If anyone still reads this blog out there in cyberspace, please write or call me and let me know if the NFL Draft is this weekend.  I’ve been scouring espn.com and cnnsi.com and have found absolutely nothing on the prospects, the needs and wants of each team, and how it might all play out once draft weekend finally comes. 

In all seriousness, and I realize I’m in the vocal minority, but I cannot STAND the attention given, the radio air time wasted, and the television hours spent speculating about where 18-22 year olds (or 26 year olds in the case of BYU grads) are going to sign next year in the NFL.  It makes me sick that prissy, clean cut yuppies like Mel Kiper, Jr., spend hour upon hour coming up with mock drafts about rough and tumble kids from Clearwater, FL, or Pigsknuckle, AR (name the movie reference), only to be proven completely wrong on draft day when the New York Jets completely blow their pick yet again and send every subsequent team either scrambling to re-evaluate their picks or try to hide their elation at the fact that Matt Ryan just fell to the 8th spot.  Who CARES???!!!

Type in “NFL Mock Draft” into google.com and you’ll come up with approximately 1,800,000 sites devoted to the “science” of trying to determine if Johnny Cornfed from Ohio State is going to go before the character risk from East St. Louis because his one brother is a Blood and his other brother is a Crypt (and yes, that’s a true story about Darren McFadden).  

The worst part about the entire debacle is that NO ONE tells the truth during the month leading up to the draft.  Even the most reputable football writers who claim to have the inside scoop on what’s going on inside the general manager’s head are blowing smoke.  April is a liar’s month in the NFL: the highest stakes game of poker in the land.  Some bluff, some stay straight-faced, and some are so completely inept that fans cringe when their team is on the clock.  Luckily, the Ravens have one of the best teams of talent evaluators around. 

That still doesn’t make up for the fact that writers actually publish mock drafts with names like “NFL Draft 11.o.”  ELEVEN POINT ZERO!  I can’t even stand to read through an entire first round mock draft much less sit through eleven different versions from some alleged “in the know” writer who has Thurgood Jenkins going to the Vikings in round six. 

Granted, there are arguably some edge-of-the-seat moments where a team will pull something out of their ass, or look like an ass, at the top of the first round for doing something incredibly stupid, which throws the next 5-6 teams into a frenzy, but other than that…the draft is a tool to market the NFL, sell advertising, and make a big deal out of something that could otherwise be better served with a bottom line scroll on espnNews.  “The Ravens drafted who?  Oh, really?  Well, he better freakin’ live up to the hype, because I’ve been hearing about him every day for the last five weeks!”

All in all, the draft is a great reason to go out with your buddies, grab a barstool, and settle in for the long haul.  But come on!!!  Half of the teams sh*t the bed with their picks…some strike gold, and the rest just hope to stay competitive.  Does that warrant 24-hour coverage from ridiculously self-absorbed analysts who one week ago swore that Johnny Leftguard was a better value than Brick Hands Corner, and yet Corner went five spots earlier than expected?  No, no, and no. 

Now, I will pay attention to who the home team ended up drafting when Monday rolls around.  But until then, let me sleep through it and don’t tell me it’s worth the hype.  Besides, all the advice I’ve been getting lately involves me “getting sleep while I still can.”  I’m not one to pass up good advice. 

Unless I have the #8 pick.

With a press conference that didn’t come close to receiving the attention that it deserved, former Houston Oiler, Tennesse Oiler, Tennessee Titan, and Baltimore Raven quarterback Steve McNair retired last week.  Completing a career that spanned 13 season, McNair told the football world that, while his mind and spirit could still perform with the best, his body couldn’t stand the test of time. 

One can conjure up feelings of astonishment and bewilderment:
Astonishment because McNair was a Raven killer during his career in Tennessee — someone so feared by the defense that Ray Lewis basically led the charge to acquire him after the 2005 season. 
Bewilderment because a man of his alledged warrior mentality and never-say-die attitude seemed to bid farewell to the game with such a whimper. 

Believe what you want from the local and national media: Much has been made of his Hall of Fame-worthiness; it just seems to me that no matter what you read or who you listen to in the newspaper, on the television, or on the radio, no one is able to provide the complete picture of McNair’s career, his relationship with the city of Baltimore, and his candidacy to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.  Fear not, devoted reader(s)…I shall break it down for you.

‘Tis best that we reiterate the points about which almost everyone agrees - from teammates to opponents, from coaches to fans, and from local and national media.  Steve McNair, for the majority of his career, did whatever it took ON SUNDAYS to make his team better, to fight for victories until his body was battered and bruised, and to bring a presence to the offense that made everyone more confident in themselves and their capabilities as a unit.  In the words of an attorney: no one can deny these charges. 

But Baltimore fans have such a jaded view of McNair from his two seasons as a Raven, it is difficult to define his legacy - not only as a hometown hero, but as a football player in general.  In the heyday* of (what was at the time) the AFC Central - Steve McNair was one of the three biggest thorns^ in the side of all Ravens fans. 

*I start with 1999 because the argument can be made that in the years preceding this (also coinciding with the pre-Billick era), the Ravens, as a new franchise, were still trying to find their identity within the NFL.  They had some high-powered offenses (thriller Michael Jackson was a high-flying receiver in the early years), but they didn’t really have direction as an organization until 1999-2000.  Then, the first of many superb crops of 1st round draft picks started to find their way in the league and started to mold the Ravens into the team that we’ve come to know for almost a decade.  The likes of Jonathon Ogden, Peter Boulware, and a skinny, hard-hitting linebacker named Ray Lewis (watch tape from 1998 and 1999 when Ray wore his neck protector - he looked like a stick compared to the Ray of 2001 and beyond) were starting to define smash-mouth Ravens football. 

^You’ve got to throw the combination of an in-his-prime Jimmy Smith and Mark Brunell in there - they used to torch the Ravens secondary when we played the Jaguars.  In fact, I will argue vehemently to this day that breaking up the AFC Central the way the league did killed what could have been one of the best new three-way rivalries in the NFL.  After the 2001 season, both Tennessee and Jacksonville became part of the AFC South, while the Ravens got lumped in with Cleveland and Pittsburgh in the AFC North.  As I’ve said in this space before, the Ravens are now the red-headed step-rivals of the Browns, Steelers, and Bengals…all of whom do not consider the Ravens real “rivals.”  But with three relatively new franchises in the AFC Central back in the day (Baltimore, Tennessee, and Jacksonville), the Ravens had the chance to really build a rivalry with either and/or both of those organizations.  Instead, we’re left to stroll the playground like the wandering bully who’s looking to pick a fight, but who’s main targets already have a fight of their own going on. 

Back to McNair’s credentials as a Hall of Fame quarterback.  The only way a case can be made for him being enshrined in Canton is the fact that the NFL, much more so than any of the other three major U.S. sports (baseball, basketball, and women’s beach volleyball), votes in their candidates based as much on tales of glory and panty hose commercials as their actual career statistics.  And as has been mentioned, McNair had no shortage of epic on-the-field battles. 

However, if you examine McNair’s overall body of work, you’d see from statistics, playoff appearances, and career numbers, that he was fairly good throughout his tenure in the NFL, but he sustained his peak for only 4-5 years.  I’ll leave this portion of the supporting argument up to everyone’s favorite MMQB http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/writers/peter_king/04/20/mmqb/3.html (note the sarcasm), but it’s a statistical fact that McNair’s career numbers are eerily similar to those of Mark Brunell’s.  The one thing that McNair has that Brunell doesn’t are the tales of glory.  The “how did he just elude that tackle and scramble for 15 yards on a third and 12?” play.  That’s the difference. 

And that is precisely where the Baltimore fans start to take issue.  For as much as he impossibly found the open receiver all of those years in Tennessee, for as much as he mended the broken play in Nashville, he was a main source of discontent in Baltimore.  Granted, 2006 was an incredible year.  A franchise-best and division-winning 13-3 record should be commended and applauded, but the Ravens did it with consistent, game-managing offense, stifling defense (a given), and a freakish scenario in which none of their key players got injured.  McNair as a quarterback was decent at best–16 TD’s vs. 12 INT’s for just over 3,000 yards (3,050)–but he gave the offense something it lacked, something it yearned for, during the Kyle Boller years: confidence.  Poise.  Presence.  Those three things alone made our offense better.  Lord knows it wasn’t Jamal Lewis.  It wasn’t McNair’s arm strength, and it wasn’t his ability to scramble; it was his character…it was personality. 

Which is why 2007 was such a huge disappointment.  He didn’t have arm strength and maneuverability to fall back on.  All of the intangibles that McNair brought to the table in 2006 – everything that made him valuable to the offense – vanished.   He looked lost.  He looked confused.  And worst of all…the thing that was so difficult to finally admit as fans…he looked old.  Maybe it’s the injuries, everyone speculated.  Unfortunately, as we found out last week, it wasn’t an injury…it was the complete body of work - the complete body of hurt.  All of the sacks, and all of the scrambles, and all of those “McNair got pummeled on that play but somehow managed to get the throw off” plays…finally caught up to him.  And for that, McNair deserves to be enshrined in the Football Warrior Hall of Fame.  But to many Ravens fans, his career in Baltimore looks very similar to a glorified end of the most beloved quarterback of all time.  Surely San Diego felt lucky just to watch quarterback John Unitas suit up and complete a couple of passes in a Chargers uniform.  But they obviously knew they weren’t getting the Johnny U. 

And with that, Steve McNair, Canton welcomes you.  Somewhere between Boston and O’Donnell Streets, in the tales of on the field glory, you will always be enshrined. 

The Giants just made it to the Superbowl.  The Giants!  They of Eli “Draft day whining” Manning.  Those New “Got Completely Blown Out At The Beginning Of The Year Yorkers.”  It’s a wonder Brett Favre didn’t lay down for another Strahan sack during this one.  Too bad this one wasn’t in Giants Stadium, I was waiting for the Gate D Halfitme Show that never was…

So many thoughts run rampant at this point…10:18pm on Sunday night right as Pam Oliver is wrapping up her on-field post-game interviews.  I can’t wait for the AT&T Postgame Show.  Which reminds me, I should look into buying some AT&T products.  Wait…isn’t Cingular part of AT&T now?  Oh, that’s right, I switched to Verizon a year ago.  Take that AT&T.  Actually, maybe I won’t watch the AT&T postgame show.  Why should I support something that they’re sponsoring when I have a Verizon phone?  

I can see the headlines now:

Eli finally steps out of big brother’s shadow – USA Today

Eli takes a Giant step forward – NY Times

It’s about Tynes – NY Post

PMizzle gives li’l bro straight dope on da Big One –Harlem Today

We wouldn’t have gotten there without Favre, but if he didn’t screw us in overtime, we might be in the Superbowl – Green Bay Star-Ledger

I finally know what the rest of the country felt like when the Ravens made it to the Super Bowl: These guys are terrible!  How did they beat the Titans and the Raiders in the playoffs???  They were inconsistent AT BEST during the regular season.  (How little did they know…When in fact, our consistency lay in our ability to survive games without scoring a touchdown in the regular season.) 

But seriously, is there anything worse than the media in the two weeks leading up to the Superbowl?  Randy Moss’s assault charges are going to be ingrained into every football watching household in America.  (“Honey, can you believe that a lifelong friend of his would bring these accusations against him during one of the most important seasons – in the playoffs, no less - in the history of the NFL?  And Belichick supports him!  There’s no ‘I’ on that team!  And can you pass the candied yams, please?”)  And that’s the wife’s comment.  We are going to hear incessantly about Eli now being respected in his own family…much less by the football fans around the country, as well as the fact that Plaxico Burress got his first name because his mom worked in a Crest toothpaste manufacturing plant.*  And it’s inevitable, Peter King will write a 50,000 word article on Brett Favre and the championship that almost was. 

For one moment…let’s actually take a very high-level view of how much fun it would have been to have a Favre-Brady Superbowl.  I was emailing with a buddy last week, ranting about this very topic, and when it comes down to it, Tom Brady can’t hold Favre’s jock strap with a prosthetic hand.  And here’s why…Brady is a microcosm of today’s man: allegedly good-looking, suave, dating high-profile women, probably spending thousands a month on hair products, knocking up high-profile women (TANGENT ALERT – Imagine if Donovan McNabb knocked up a woman while dating a new woman…he’d be crucified in the press.  Brady…not so much….okay, back on track…) and coming from unheralded beginnings to be on top of the game.  Now, we gloss over Farve because his many accomplishments and overall bad-assdom came over a decade ago.  But let’s rehash:Favre came into the league as a back-up on the Atlanta Falcons.  Traded to arguably the mecca of professional football in Green Bay, Favre came into his own and captured the hearts of Green Bayites (ons? uns? ous?) in no less a way than Cal Ripken captured the hearts of Baltimorons.  Even the consecutive games played streak is similar.  But Favre was a huge boozehound early in his career.  Not only that, but he had a serious and dangerous addiction to painkillers!  So, here he is boozing like a party animal, popping pills like Joe “Mental” Mentaliano from Dumb and Dumber, and still growing into one of the best quarterbacks of all time. 

Brady gets drafted late from Michigan, takes over for an injured Drew Bledsoe, and goes on to win three, possibly four (if that jinxes them…GOOD) Superbowls.  But does he have dual addictions to drugs and alcohol?  No.  He does Movado Watch magazine ads and impregnates supermodels.  That’s not a man, baby!  That’s a metrosexual.  Hey Brady, go put some more gel in your hair and call Tony Romo so you two can double date in Cabo.

Favre runs down the field after touchdown passes and lifts receivers onto his Herculean shoulders.  Brady throws a touchdown and then hits the sideline for a facial and a quick blue-tooth call to Giselle.  This comparison reminds me of the whiskey ads in Sports Illustrated that have pictures circa 1970…”Your dad wasn’t a metrosexual,” the ad says. And it has pictures, supposedly of the son’s (whose presumably reading the ad) dad, with long hair, dancing with women, shaving with a knife, and being an otherwise Easy Rider-esque character.  Well, Tom Brady is a reflection of the facial moisturizing new century male.  Brett Favre embodies the jeans and sweat-that-smells-like-Jack Daniels persona of an era whose light is quickly fading under the duskan sun.  The times are a-changin’:

…all the people we used to know

I don’t know what they do with their lives…

So…sit back, relax and tune in to media row outside of Phoenix.  If you have any questions about the area; please let me know.  I spent a very memorable week there last year…about 2 hours of which was in a hot air balloon over the desert above the University of Phoenix Stadium outside of Glendale. Scared me half to death. 

Media fabrication #1329853: The Giants played the Patriots so close in week 17 that the Superbowl is going to come down to the wire. 

Reality #1329854: The Pats are going to stomp the Gints. Belichick is going to treat the Giants and Tom (Cah!  Cah-ou-uh-uuuuh-ough-ach-ach-ach)lin^ like they treated the Redskins and the Bills.  The Superbowl isn’t a must-win for them.  It’s a statement game.

*Stories contrived to protect the real media. 

…FoxSports.com’s Jay Glazer and WNST are both reporting that Brian Billick has been fired.  This comes just a day after the front office interviewed the Ravens players to determine whether or not Billick has lost the respect and confidence of his players (ie. “lost the locker room”), and whether or not he could ever win it back.  Apparently, the answers are yes and no. 

What do we do now? 

There are three different ways we can go:
1.  Hire a re-tread of some sort.  Whether they were successful in their previous coaching stint(s) or not, ex-coaches such as Marty Schottenheimer and Bill Cowher could be possibilities. 
2.  Promote from within.  Speculation swirls that ousting Billick could be the best way to keep/promote Rex Ryan to head coach.
3.  Go young and hire a coach in the Mike Tomlin/Lane Kiffin mold - a young guy who can supposedly connect better with the players. 

Regardless of what they do, there will be both rejoicing and regret all over Baltimore this New Year’s Eve.  Respected for winning a Super Bowl and hated for his arrogant demeanor and stubborness when it came to sticking with Kyle Boller, Billick will leave with the most wins ever for a Baltimore football coach. 

Merry Christmas to you, Billick, and Happy Freakin’ New Year.  Don’t let the door of 1 Winning Drive hit you on the way out. 

Let’s hope the Ravens’ new year resolutions are to restore the team to greatness, to find a respectable head coach, and make 2008 a much better one than 2007. 

But be careful what you wish for (*cough*Angelos buying the Orioles*cough*).  I’m not saying that a shake-up wasn’t needed, but the replacement could be a lot worse. 

“Sorry, Brian.  You don’t fit in with the profile
of this team anymore.” 

As many of you know, I often enjoy peppering these diatribes with song lyrics, and tv and movie references.  The above title references the title song from the Broadway musical Avenue Q, which graced Charm City with its presence this month.  A mix of human characters and puppets, it’s a hilarious spoof of Sesame Street with songs such as “It Sucks To Be Me,” “If You Were Gay,” “Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist,” “The Internet Is For Porn,” “I’m Not Wearing Underwear Today,” and “There Is Life Outside Your Apartment.”  At one point in the plot, the characters are trying to raise money for a particular cause, and they pass around hats to the audience.  Playing to the local crowd, the characters gather back onstage to see what the audience has “donated,” and after calling everyone cheapskates, one of them pulls out a Baltimore Ravens ticket stub.  Had that occurred after the Miami game, I think the crowd would have booed the show to an immediate hault…but I digress.  

It’s an interesting experience to watch a Ravens game in Durham, North Carolina, outnumbered in a house full of displaced Buffalo Bills fans - but that was my game-watching experience for the Baltimore-Miami game this past Sunday.  Given the outcome of what could arguably be the worst defeat in the history of the franchise, it’s probably for the best that our gracious host’s house wasn’t full of enraged/apopletic/suicidal Ravens fans. 

My initial reaction to the game can be summarized in three words: silent…stunned…disbelief (much like the look of everyone on the Ravens bench.)  Then I had a drink, took a second to collect myself, and then reacted in a more normal manner: “WE LOST TO THE *&%$#@ WINLESS MIAMI DOLPHINS??!!  WE LET GREG CAMARILLO LIGHT IT UP AGAINST US!!??  WHO???  DID THEY PULL HIM OFF THE GROUNDS CREW JUST PRIOR TO GAME TIME???  WHAT, WERE PEDRO BORBON AND MANNY MOTO ON THE I.R.???  ANSWER ME, BRAIN!!!  WHY WON’T YOU ANSWER MEEEEEEEEeeeeee???!”  Then my brain proceeded to check out for the rest of the afternoon (and with good reason). 

I’d like to begin this paragraph with the words “all kidding aside,” but I can’t.  I actually said some of those things.  NFL Films has tape of the pre-game playing surface analysis, and they caught this conversation that took place on the home team’s 20 yard line:

Miami field leader: “Greg, what do you think about the turf?”
Greg: “Meteorologist’s calling for on and off rain throughout the afternoon…no need to water it again before game time.  Natual humidity in the air will keep the surface almost perfect until the precipitation sets in.”
Miami field leader: “Hey, you’re Greg Camarillo, right?  My son’s in his first semester at Stanford and is a big fan…you think I can get an autograph?  Hell…screw the autograph…why don’t you just suit up for us today?  Since we basically gave away Wes Welker and no one took his number 83 jersey, you can have that one!” 
Greg: “Um, I don’t think NFL rules allow for me to…”
Miami field leader: “Greg, we’re the Dolphins for Christ’s sake!  Do you think the NFL is going to care if we sign a guy off the grounds crew??” 
Three catches, 109 yards, a touchdown, and inside knowledge of the playing surface at Dolphin Stadium.  It’s been one of those seasons…

There is no use trying to recap a game like that - what can you say?  If you’re reading this, you either saw the game, taped it and then watched it later (and scratched your eyes out as you pleaded with Father Time to give you the last 3.5 hours of your life back), heard about the game in some capacity, or mistyped the keyboard as you were attempting to go to a Web site that dealt with one of the 31 other teams in the NFL who are better than the Ravens right now.  And to think, only two months ago (to the day), I actually wrote “10-6? It should be done.  11-5? It can be done.”  Ugh…

AT ANY RATE, what say you good people about the fourth and goal from the one yard line at the end of the game?  The Ravens had absolutely nothing to lose by taking the chance; but we were running the ball with reckless abandon, and you don’t bet against the second most accurate kicker in the history of the NFL.  Still, should we have gone for it?  (Post a comment or send me an email and I’ll throw them up on the site.)

The recipe for a Dolphin’s win was pretty much laid out for them in preceding weeks.  We’ve had more than our fair share of injuries to the secondary, and  watching the game on HD (something that our Hampden abode has yet to experience…well…HD and the internet…), there were numerous close-up’s of Mike Mularkey, the Dolphins offensive coordinator, screaming out onto the field, “Just throw it to whoever Ivy is covering!!!  Yeah, that’s right!  I-V-Y!  He’s number 35 for the purple team!!!  What?  No…you don’t even need a play.  Just see who Cory Ivy is lining up against!!!”

As Greg Camarillo once said to the Ravens as they ran out onto the field (complete with Ben Stiller accent and whip cracking a la Anchorman) :
Bienvenido a Miami, bitches. 

Bienvenido a 2008 draft…

Speical thanks to Eric and Brandi Haase - our accommodating hosts for the Ravens game; and to Meaghan and Deebo - who are friends with Eric and Brandi and therefore our connection to the HD watching and Wii game “Rock Star.”  (I was terrible.)

And one last note - the picture below is the real reason the Ravens lost on Sunday (Kyle Boller, 3:58am, 12/17/2007, Miami, FL)

“Sure we should probably head out of here, but Miami
is horrible. Besides, it’s the 4th quarter and I’m giving
you the two minute warning, baby…”

Giggiddy giggiddy.

Clark W. Griswold’s quasi-heart-felt eulogy for Aunt Edna rings loud and true for the Baltimore Ravens and their fans in 2007.  Yesterday, in what several players dubbed “our Superbowl,” the Ravens played their hearts out in what has to be the most gut-wrenching loss of the season.  Worse than a Monday night stinker at Pittsburgh, worse than a home loss vs. Cincy, and yes, worse than a last second clanged field goal vs. Cleveland.  In almost every Ravens-related article I’ve read over the past two months, and in almost every conversation I’ve had in that same time frame, one phrase seems to get repeated over and over again: If it weren’t for bad luck, the Ravens would have no luck at all.  Heck, even Steve McNair was quoted to have said those exact words after the Cincinatti game in Baltimore. 

But another quote defines both the miserable season that the Ravens are having, and the extraordinary season that the Patriots are having…”They make their own luck.” 

By now, fans from Cumberland to Cambridge have engaged in obligatory discussions about that last second timeout Rex Ryan called, about the ticky-tack foul called on Jamaine Winborne, and about the questionable sure-handedness of last minute hero Jabbar Gaffney.  Far fewer people are going to look within the Ravens organization and identify the real issues that explain why we lost that game, and for the most part, the 2007 season. 

This phenomenom surrounding the Ravens inability to escape “bad luck” lies within so many on and off the field intangibles, anyone who thinks that we just happen to be the recipients of a wrong place-wrong time joke gone bad are fooling themselves.  Mentally, the Ravens players as a whole seem to be gasping from the stench of one, giant, collective brain fart:
–Ed Reed intercepts a pass and proceeds to turn it back over to the Patriots.  That’s a potential three or seven point swing right there.  Had we converted that into a touchdown, Brady’s last minute touchdown artistry would have been rendered moot. 
–Rex Ryan calls a timeout because he doesn’t like the fact that we only have one defensive lineman on the field for the fourth and one.  Drive extended…
–Bart Scott chucks a penalty flag into the stands after he gets whistled for unsportsmanlike conduct (Whoa, that’s like…double unsportsmanlike, man…).  Chance of a run back on the ensuing kickoff: zero. 

No one can honestly be serious if they ask why the Ravens have floundered this year after being so successful in 2006.  The multitude of reasons, though subtle, have reared their ugly head as the season has progressed:

1.  We lack discipline (to quote Danny DeVito in Romancing the Stone: “Understatement of the year, a–hole.”)  I don’t care if the official shouted obsenities over the P.A. system at Samauri Rolle and Bart Scott, players have to keep their composure.  The game is physical; and at times, it can get extremely emotional, but COME ON, learn to control it.  Has How the Grinch Stole Christmas not taught Bart Scott anything???  When the Grinch steals all of the Who’s presents, decorations, and food (the roast beast!), did the enforcer Who’s get together and plan the Grinch’s demise?  No!  They ignored him; they said, “Go ahead and throw our belongings off the side of Mount Crumpet.  We’re still going to have our celebration and enjoy the day like we always have.”  Translation: Bart Scott should not let the officials affect him to the point that he becomes a detriment to the team winning the game.  It’s inexcusable.  Things like this have gone on all year - to the tune of the second most penalty yards in the NFL.  False starts, offsides, delay of game penalties…I don’t think our players are any less smart than players on other teams.  So why are our games littered with these penalties?  There is no accountability–”There was miscommunication”, “We were just so fired up”, “We just jumped the gun a little bit”–Excuses, excuses, excuses.  That’s fine if we get these penalties; then we’re also getting a 4-8 record. 
2.  The entire team is in a perpetual state of denial (as Joe Tomarchio poigniently states, “It ain’t just a river in Egypt.”) Ray Lewis and Company love to point out that we can stop the run.  Guess what, Ray…that’s half of your job.  Getting a 50% on a test signifies a failing grade.  Study up on the pass, please.  The defense also loves to point out that if we take away those one or two big plays, everyone played really well.  Yeah…see…I don’t know about everyone else, but my flux capacitor’s on the fritz and I can’t go back in time to eliminate those big plays; so, I guess they’ll have to count and figure into the final outcome of the game.  (Damn…damn damn.)
3.  Simple, overlooked truths.  In 2006, everything that could have gone right for us, did.  Heap narrowly misses getting decapitated by Shawn Merriman in the San Diego game last year and scores the game winning touchdown; the Ravens lose practically no one to injuries; turnovers on offense are almost non-existent, and an oppotunistic defense forces fumbles and interceptions.  Outcome: a team that led the league in turnover ratio last year (+17) has regressed into a team that leads the league in turnover ratio–for the worst–this year (-12).  The team is led by an egotistical coach who cannot for the life of him form some semblance of discipline, focus, and sense of urgency among the players.  Whether they want to admit it or not, this has a trickle down effect with everyone below Billick - however inadvertent it may be.  And while I now need to chop my fingers off for writing the next few words…look at three of the most well-respected, highly regarded, and “professional” (as in behavior) teams in all of sports: The New York Yankees, the Duke University Blue Devils (basketball), and the New England Patriots.  What do they all have in common (until recently)?  The most well-prepared, highly regarded, and sought-after coach (Joe Torre, Bill Belichick, and Mike Kriwjfiojo23iovnd&^ski) in their respective sports.  It’s no coincidence.  I believe that Billick may be an excellent motivator with deep-rooted knowledge and passion for the game; but when it comes to reigning in some of his players for outlandish behavior and regaining control of the locker room, he’s a non-factor.  Right or wrong, I honestly believe that Billick is secretly terrified of Ray Lewis. 

NOW, look at the Patriots.  Here you have a disciplined team; a well-prepared team; an actual team…not just 11 individuals playing together and hoping for their time in the spotlight.  As cliché as it has become…Tom Brady and Adalius Thomas were being honest - they are a team sans chest thumpers.  A team that shares the spotlight.  A team. 

So when the fans bitch and moan about how we got screwed by the refs, go over the following scenario in your head:
You’ve never been shot.  You’ve never been mugged.  And unless you’re my friend Brian in the early morning hours of March 18, 2007, you’ve never been pistol-whipped.  Now, pretend you’re driving through the worst part of Baltimore at 3am.  You roll up your windows, right?  You lock your doors, right?  You keep your foot on the gas and get ready to haul ass back to the good side of North Avenue (is there even a good side?).  When the referees are constantly dealing with players who commit stupid penalties, who celebrate routine plays, and who are always jawing at the refs, more flags (right or wrong) are going to get thrown.  I’m not saying they should be thrown, or that referees should be insulting players or showing any kind of bias whatsoever…I’m just saying it’s human nature.  Those flags being thrown were like the doors in your car locking in the bad part of town: Human nature says that we all have tendencies in particular situations. 

It won’t make me stop rooting for the Ravens, or follow them any less passionately.  Billick should stay, in my opinion; Ray is still the man; and I will always think they have a chance to win every game.  I thought it about last night’s game (despite being openly laughed at and called crazy by everyone in Bridgeport, Connecticut).  Being a fan doesn’t mean you can’t analyze the team’s weakness - but it does mean that you always hope things get better.  I’ll tell you one thing…it definitely means you don’t boo at a home game. 

On the other hand, you take a disciplined team without a history of excessive celebration, chest thumping, and screaming in the referees’ ear, and–HOLY COW–less penalty flags get thrown (or more get thrown for their opponent).  Again, I’m not saying it’s right or fair that this happens, but it happens. 

On opposite ends of the spectrum, both the Ravens and the Patriots make their own luck.

The Ravens played brilliantly at times last night and in my mind deserved that victory so bad.  That’s why the Hindus speak of karma…but I echo Clark W. Griswold’s sentiments and still implore the football Gods - give the Ravens a break!

It was like the first Rocky…didn’t win, but went the distance and rose to the occasion.
–Eric Leikus, on his brief, yet highly effective analysis of last night’s game.

I hope everyone had a filling and relaxing Thanksgiving.  Besides rooting against my fantasy team’s opposition this week (damn you Addai, Jennings, and K. Jones!), my family’s day was relatively uneventful given the fact that we had a record 21 people at our feast this year. 

Before I’m off to walk around for a couple of hours in the middle of nowhere (aka. hiking and camping), I wanted to put some quick thoughts down on pen and paper…er…keyboard and monitor?

What do the Ravens do with Steve McNair? 
He certainly looks done…as in…”stick a fork in him, injury or no injury the guy doesn’t have it anymore” done.  Is that what the Ravens’ brass is preparing for, or do you think that after he has an opportunity to completely heal (which in itself may be impossible given the pounding he’s taken over the course of his career), he can come back and be a successful quarterback next year?  McNair did sign a five-year deal before the 2006 season - although, the way his salary is structured, the Ravens basically expected him to be a viable starter for only the first three of those five years.  Ugh…five years?  It’s like he went from top-tier performer to hapless back-up in less than two seasons. 

I’m of the opinion we let Kyle Boller finish out the season as the starter and then evaluate our options in the off-season.  Can Boller handle the full-time responsibilities, or should we look to the draft for a potential replacement?  Also…from the Captain Obvious Conspiracy Theory department - I don’t honestly believe that McNair is that injured now.  I mean, you’ve got Kurt Warner tossing underhanded passes with his left hand - which, by the way, has about 24 torn elbow ligaments - to avoid sacks and lead his team to victory.  I read that McNair is suffering from a partially dislocated non-throwing shoulder, which is football code for “very vague and non-descript injury that may or may not sideline him for the remainder of 2007.”  Given how highly regarded McNair has been up to this point in his career…as a warrior…as a leader…as a winner, I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that this “injury” is simply the Ravens way of deflecting additional criticism, while allowing him to bow out gracefully - at least for the rest of the season.  Classy move on the Ravens part; but don’t you at least partially think that if McNair was a true warrior and a tireless leader (ala Brett Favre), he would never “allow” the Ravens to sit him down with a fake injury?? 

Getting ready for the Patriots
I know it’s a few weeks away still, but at what point do Rex Ryan and Rick Neuheisel walk into Billick’s office, close the door behind them, and have a very off-the-record conversation about what Billick should say (and what type of punch he should throw) to Bill Belichick during the always entertaining coach’s post-game handshake?  If Belichick refuses to exchange pleasantries, Billick should say something like the following:
“Hey, Bill, you don’t come into our stadium, win by 35, and then NOT shake my G–D—- hand after the game, do you understand me?!?!  You may have a personal vendetta against the rest of the NFL for what happened earlier this year, but the last thing you’re going to do in our house is disrespect my players, my coaching staff, the franchise, and me by doling out some half-assed handshake without ever making eye contact!”  If you’re like me, at this point in my imagined Billick/Belichick interaction, I envision Billick, Rex, and Rick punching Belichick in the face and stomping on his body (ala Jimmy Conway, Henry Hill, and Tommy DeVito in Goodfellas), with Billick ultimately standing over a mangled Belichick and saying ”THAT’S for going for it on fourth and one from your own three yard line with two minutes left to go in the game.”  Cut scene. 

Billick may be too concerned about how a scene like that may be perceived by Roger Goodell (and the Baltimore police department, for that matter), but just one mental lapse during that handshake could lead to one of the funniest moments sports fans could ever witness.  Keep your fingers crossed… 

You can’t say that 90% of the football watching world would not like to see this happen.  It would definitely be the highlight of an otherwise disappointing Ravens season.

A week that could have started off with mild celebration on Sunday afternoon has regressed into a week of lost hope for the Baltimore Ravens.  A season that started out with “The sky’s the limit” has turned into “What could have been.”  And with the Bolts, Colts, and Dolts next up on the schedule on successive Sundays, and given the festive nature of this holiday week, rather than forecast how bad the Ravens could end up, our time together could be better spent by reflecting (with an air of sarcasm, cynicism, bad humor, and some seriousness) on the things, both sports-related and otherwise, for which I am most thankful for as a Ravens fan.  We’ll start small and work our way up…

I’m thankful for the Baltimore Ravens franchise - Of course, it helped that I graduated college the year (1999) in which the Ravens took a turn for the better (competitively-speaking).  They have also given me a wonderful excuse to drink before noon, eat all day, and they are the main reason that I’m hoarse during Monday meetings. 

I’m thankful for the Golden Year of 2000 - Let’s face it, there isn’t going to be a worse team to win a Super Bowl in a long, long time.  We caught lightning in a bottle with an impenetrable defense, solid special teams, and a relatively turnover-free offense and turned it from a 5-4 record through nine games into a Lombardi Trophy celebration.  Plus, their Superbowl paved the way for the greatest 2 1/2 years in Maryland sports history: two back-to-back final four appearances by the Terps (and at some point during their run to glory Billick gave the Terps a half-time speech to fire them up), and Baltimore-native Hasim Rahman upset his way to boxing’s heavyweight title.  Of course, the open-air car Rahman was riding in during his victory parade was t-boned by an errant cabbie and he was catapulted out the back…but I digress…
Editor’s note: Faithful reader G. Lindsay correctly pointed out that Maryland Terps football was also celebrating an unprecedented run of back-to-back 10-win seasons, an ACC championship, and two major bowl berths during this timeframe. 

I’m thankful for Ray Lewis’ murder trial - With the memories of O.J.’s trial slowly fading and the media in need of a Super Bowl-worthy story, Ray stepped to the plate and delivered a blockbuster: at first there was footage of orange jump suits, handcuffs, proclamations of innocence, and a skeptical Baltimore fan base.  By the end of this fairy tale year Ray was hauling in playoff interceptions, making sure everyone in the city knew what time it was and that his dogs were in the house, and taking home a Superbowl MVP award.  Not to mention the additional business he generated for that limo company (”Ride in Ray’s limo - now with REAL bullet holes!”)

I’m thankful for our perpetually crappy offense - Without it, Ravens fans would become spoiled.  Imagine if our team, over the past eight years, constantly put up 20-30 points a game.  It would be awful!  We wouldn’t even come close to knowing the value of a great defense.  Plus, by exposing us to such horrid offensive play, the fans have become accustomed to whispers of divided locker rooms, coaches on the hot seat, the front office’s inability to evaluate offensive talent (Chris Redman, Travis Taylor, Kyle Boller…maybe), poor play calling, a flawed “system,” poor clock management, and players calling out coaches.  Believe me, it’s better to expose fans to these types of issues NOW than to wait until attendance drops and THEN lay it all on them (this mechanism is known in the area as Oriolus Putridous). 

I’m thankful for Brian Billick’s vocabulary (otherwise known as a “Billicism”) - By repeating such phrases as “profile of the team,” “dynamic of the system,” “everyone processes these things in alternative ways,” rednecks from Bel Air to Brooklyn Park will be able to confuse their bosses when asked as to why they were late to work at the glue factory on Monday morning.  To support my point, here is an all-time favorite Billicism: “Anthony Wright is the starter for an undetermined period right now due to injury. Kyle Boller is our starting quarterback. If I left it open to interpretation, if I left that in a way that led to speculation that we did not have the faith in Kyle, that our faith is wavering, that was not my intent.”  To quote The Princess Bride, Billick ”truly does have a dizzying intellect.” 

I’m thankful for the location of M&T Bank Stadium - For three years of my life, I was able to walk to every single home game, every single tailgate, and every single post-game Carib celebration in the parking lots.  Of course, these post-game celebrations also left me vulnerable to the infamous “Delaney’s not home but his door is open, let’s go in and eat all of his food and drink his beer and then pass out on his couch” incidents.  By the way, I was home…the entire time (I was just in a post-celebration meditative state). 

I’m thankful to have such great friends and family, (most of whom are also Ravens fans) - From 1999 through 2004, I attended the majority of home games without ever having to pay for a ticket.  Tailgating with steak subs, wings, chips, pistachios, Guinness, and in the colder months, hot apple cider, started just after 10am and more often than not, finished with icy cold Carib closing out another victorious Sunday. 

I’m thankful for the NFL - It gives me the biggest reason to get out of watching the Food Network on Sundays (Rachel Ray must die) in those long, long weeks between the end of baseball and the start of college basketball.  No, the NBA is not a viable excuse, as some of that content also makes me want to burn my eyes out with a Pumpkin Spice Yankee Candle and Van Gogh my ears off with a Cutco Forever Guaranteed set of Super Shears. 

I’m thankful I’m still 29 - In a little over 26 hours from now, I will have officially hit my expiration date and turn 30 years old.  I’ve already got the gray hair and “minor procedure” needed to qualify for AARP status under my belt.  It’s only a matter of time before I settle down, get married, move to Hampden and fill my weekends by picking out new dining and living room sets from Gardiner’s Furniture.  Oh…dear…God…

I’m thankful for your loyal readership - It’s been a bumpy ride so far this season; but it’s been my pleasure to bring you the REAL inside scoop on Baltimore Ravens news and the football-related happenings in and around Charm City. 

Happy Thanksgiving.

It is not a fun time to be a Ravens fan right now - unless you’re Mike Preston and you get really jazzed up about a team in turmoil.  It’s not a fun time, but it’s a necessary time - it’s a time when loyal fans look at themselves in the mirror and resolve to continue to wear the gear, openly cheer, and trust that there are brighter days ahead.  However, judging by the meager 3,000 or so fans that stayed around until the final whistle at M&T Bank Stadium yesterday evening, continued enthusastic fan support may be hard to come by during the latter part of the season.  Anyone can root for a team that’s playing well and winning ball games; but it takes a true fan to stand by the team when they just flat out stink.  At halftime yesterday, I had the great pleasure of telling one fan in particular about what it really means to be a fan…

Ravens fans who read these diatribes know that we layed an egg yesterday against the Bengals - and for much of the afternoon the game was difficult to stomach.  Fair Weather Superfan #1 (we’ll call him FWSF for short) was having a really rough go of it during the first half, blatantly standing up and instructing everyone else in our section to boo and curse the home team.  As luck would have it, I ran into FWSF outside of the bathroom at half time.  Much to my wife’s dismay and horror, I told FWSF what I thought of him booing during the game; using some very impassioned and colorful language to get my point across.  In so many words, he told me that he was fed up with our offense and with Billick’s play-calling, and he was going to watch the second half from the confines of a warmer and more comfortable establishment (presumably a bar or his house).  In so many words, I told him that real fans didn’t want him watching the rest of the game from his seat in our section anyway, peppering in some meaningful nicknames and adjectives that I save for such situations. Seeing as how FWSF was wearing shorts at the game, I should have known right away that I wasn’t dealing with the next Nobel Prize winner (but then again, I one time forgot to wear a winter jacket to the Ravens/Vikings game in January of 2002) but I digress…

The big issue here is - I actually agreed with a lot of what FWSF was saying! I, too, am fed up with the terrible offense, shoddy play-calling, the unnecessary chest thumping, and all of the players laughing it up when the team as a whole is getting absolutely embarrassed.  But I’m not going to attend a game to boo the home team and create a sour atmosphere of ill will and foul tempers.  What’s the point of doing that? 

Baltimore football fans are getting a national reputation for prematurely turning on their team.  It wasn’t that long ago that 70% of the stadium started cheering when Kyle Boller went down with an injury.  A display like that is ridiculously classless! It’s so EASY to jump off the bandwagon when the team loses.  It’s so EASY to point fingers and complain about what we’re not doing well.  It’s so EASY to think that a new coach, new calls, and a new quarterback are miraculously going to right the ship.  Now, if you want to be a true fan of the Ravens - or any team for that matter - you’ve got to pledge your undying support in the tough times; you’ve got to defend them when we lose at home, or to Buffalo, or to Cleveland.  You’ve got to summon the willpower NOT to boo during the game; NOT to criticize the multitude of mishaps; and NOT to perpetuate the collective angst that flows out of the stadium with most of the other “fans” midway through the third quarter.  Losing doesn’t make me cheer any less, and it doesn’t cause me to follow the team any less frequently.  It’s just not as fun to watch your favorite team, after such high pre-season expectations, go down the crapper.   

Ticket holders who shell out good money for seats to the game are certainly entitled to boo as loud and as long as they want.  But it’s amazing how a little three-letter word can speak volumes about their loyalty; and how transparent they become after claiming to be such die-hards. A lot of fans have an incurable case of the need for instant gratification: Don’t like the play calling?  Replace the coach.  Don’t like the offense?  Replace the quarterback.  Don’t like a player?  Cut him. 

Victory is the sweetest after enduring the most difficult of hardships and overcoming the biggest of obstacles.  Sticking with your team on the way down to, and throughout, ”rock bottom” means their eventual success will be all the more savory.  When you take a ” stop at nothing to win every time all the time” mentality…like…the Yankees for example…you contaminate the pureness of hard work paying off.

So FWSF, you can waste your time and money and energy getting all decked out in Ravens gear (and shorts), heading down to the stadium, and traversing the upper deck stairs just to boo your way through a half of football and leave early when the game isn’t going the way you want it to.  That’s the easy way…the coward’s way…out. 

 As a Baltimore fan who endured the past decade of Orioles baseball, I know first-hand that sometimes the toughest thing to do… is be a loyal fan. 

Quick thoughts:
1.  This is the end…our only friend…Kyle Boller.  Or Troy Smith?
2.  Never start McNair on your fantasy team because you hoped to generate a spark on offense using “good karma.”
3.  Kicking, spiking, or throwing the ball in between downs will result in a penalty.  When are these knuckleads going to learn that?  Kelly Gregg, I’m looking in your direction.

With just a few hours to go before our second nationally televised disaster game of the year, I thought back on what an up-and-down rivalry we’ve had with the Steelers over the past eight years or so.  This is the second time the notion of a Baltimore “rival” came to my attention over the past three days - the first being over the weekend when my nature-loving wife and I were taking a leisurely hike through the Pocono mountains…

As we returned to the Hickory State Park (park) office on Saturday afternoon, a family - what appeared to be a grandfather, his son, and the son’s son (that’s three generations of men for you scoring at home) - inquired with us about the difficulty of a trail (not aptly) named “Shades of Death.”  Several things were quirky about this interaction as it pertains to Baltimore sports (and how I would have liked to respond to these people)…
1.  The plump grandson was proudly wearing a Pittsburgh Steelers jacket
2.  The father of the kid was proudly wearing a New York Yankees jacket
3.  I was wearing a Ravens t-shirt, and my wife, Lesley, was wearing an Orioles winter hat. 
The grandfather was the one who asked about the difficulty of the trail; as his son (who I’d estimate at around 45 years of age) gave me the crook eye - apparently because he saw Lesley’s Orioles hat.  As I was about to inform him that the Yankees suck and the Steelers were going down on Monday night, the grandson (who was about nine or 10 years old) nervously piped up, “You didn’t see any real shades of death, or dead or scary things on the trail, did you?” 

I guess the tree-hugging atmosphere got the best of me…because instead of replying, “Listen, fatty, you keep eating the way you do and they’ll have to haul your Steelers-loving carcass off the trail with a forklift,” I simply stated that the trail wasn’t actually as deadly as the name might suggest.  The little porker let out a sigh of relief, and we left the parking lot. 

HOW does this pertain to Baltimore sports, you ask?  Well…when you encounter not only someone wearing a Steelers jacket, but that person’s dad who is also wearing a Yankees jacket, and it boils your blood a little bit.  But WHY?  Baltimore and Maryland sports fans get so fired up over our supposed “rivalry” with these two teams, but in reality, the ill will goes unreciprocated.  To wit…

If Ravens fans had to choose who our most intense rival is - the majority of folks would say the Pittsburgh Steelers.  Both teams are similarly built, with strong running attacks and smash-mouth defenses, and over the past seven or eight years, the games between the two teams have been some of the fiercest and most highly-contested in all of football.  Nobody in Baltimore liked The Chin.  We all loathed Joey Porter, and we all secretly can’t wait until a Ravens players gets to bring down Troy Polamalu by his hair that sticks out from under his helmet.  And don’t get us started on the debacle that is Kordell Stewart (although he did win Special Teams Player of the Week for coming in and handling the emergency punting duties a few years ago with the Ravens). 

When asked about the Ravens’ biggest rival, no one is really going to say Cleveland.  Despite the obvious animosity they have towards us for “stealing” their team, they’ve pretty much stunk up the NFL since their rebirth in 1999.  And while folks around 695 love to hate the Redskins; because they play in the NFC, that rivalry is based more on proximity than anything else. 

The CRAPPY part about Ravens football is that we do not have a true rival.  Ask any Steelers fan who their biggest rival is, and without hesitation, they’re going to say the Cleveland Browns.  They’ve got history, and the two cities are pretty close from a geographic standpoint (which is one reason why the NFC East is a great conference - three of the four teams reside within a three hours drive of each other).  So, as Ravens football fans, we are left to wander the NFL and the AFC North in search of a meaningful and worthy opponent to truly call our rival. 

The same holds true for Orioles baseball.  Going back a decade, if you ask Orioles fans who our biggest rival* is, the majority of fans are going to say it’s the New York Yankees.  Those games of 1996 and 1997 were action-packed, hard-fought, down-to-the-wire games…and to this day I’d like to run into Jeffrey Maier at 2am outside of Mother’s in Federal Hill.  Not to enact revenge, mind you, just to slice his head open with a Natty Boh bottle shake his hand for being such a great fielder when he was 12 years old and ruining the entire Orioles organization for the next 10 years. It’s a good thing that I’ve recovered emotionally from that playoff series.  Thousands of dollars of therapy will do that for you.

*There is obvious need for clarification here for several reasons:
1. Since about 1999, one could make a case, at least competitively-speaking, that the Catonsville Comets could be the Orioles biggest rival.
2.  You’re going to be hard-pressed to convince an Orioles fan to put down his cell phone and stop waving at the [bleeping] tv camera during a game to answer your question.
3.  A case could be made that Peter Angelos is the Orioles biggest rival (there are so many things both sad and true about that statement…but I digress)

ANYWAY, if you ask a Yankees fan who their biggest rival is, they’re going to correctly state that it’s the Boston Red Sox.  Moreso now than throughout the 1990’s, but in reality, this is one of the oldest rivalries in all of professional American sports. 

So, at least residents of Maryland can take comfort in the fact that our state’s main college basketball team - the Terps - has a true rival, right?  Alas, even this path leads us to yet another dead-end on the road to rivalhood.  Because if you ask a Maryland Terps basketball fan who our main rival is, chances are the majority of people are going to say the Duke Blue Devils.  Given the exchange of words between the fans of College Park and Durham, Duke beating the Terps in their first-ever Final Four, the ACC Championship game of a few years ago, and even the mini-rivalry between Juan Dixon and Jay Williams to determine college basketball’s best player back then, one could make a strong case that Duke/Maryland is as intense a rivalry as it gets in college hoops. 

But sadly, if you ask a Duke fan who their main rival is, any and everyone knows that they are going to respond with ”North Carolina.”  And while Rivalry Week pits us against those confounded Cavaliers from the University of Virginia, the game has such an anti-climatic feel to it…as though it’s just another ACC conference game.  No Dick Vitale and Mike Patrick for that one - which airs on the incomparable Jefferson Pilot Sports Network (or is it now the Raycom Sports Network???) 

So Baltimore (and Maryland) fans, we are officially the red-headed stepchildren of hometown professional and college sports teams.  With that being said, it still holds a bigger and more special meaning to me when we beat the Steelers, or Yankees, or Blue Devils.  So, here’s hoping that we can show the Steel City that despite our rivalry shortcomings, we can still lay the kind of smack-down that would make a Duke lacrosse player…okay, I won’t go there.