BALTIMORE SPORTS MOMENTS WE'D LIKE TO FORGET
Bob Irsay. His mother called him "the Devil on Earth"
December 16, 1986 By Mike Royko.
When I`ve suggested in the past that Indianapolis is America`s largest hick town, the Hoosiers have been offended. But now I have conclusive proof.
As sports fans know, Indianapolis has been puffed with pride because it managed to filch a pro football franchise--the once-mighty Colts--from Baltimore.
It did this by showering the franchise owner with goodies. It built the Hoosier Dome stadium and a multimillion-dollar practice facility. And the town gave him financial deals that have made the Colts one of the most profitable franchises in football.
And what did Indianapolis receive in return?
It got a team that is one of the worst in the history of pro football.
But even worse, Indianapolis got Robert Irsay, the rich Chicagoan who owns the team.
Irsay has long had a reputation in Chicago as a loudmouthed boor and braggart. And in football as one of the biggest bumblers in the game--a millionaire who treats a team like his personal toy and his players and coaches as disposable slaves.
Of course, being a loudmouthed boor and braggart is not unusual in Chicago. Just look at some of our biggest civic and political leaders.
But now we learn that those are among Irsay`s teeniest imperfections. In its current issue, Sports Illustrated prints a meticulously detailed story of the grubby life and times of Bob Irsay.
It says that he . . . that he . . . well, there`s so much, I`m not really sure where to start.
I mean, what are we to think of a guy whose own mother, at age 84, is quoted as saying about her son:
``He`s a devil on Earth, that one. He stole all our money and said goodbye.``
Irsay`s mom was referring to how, as a young man, Irsay got his start toward becoming Chicago`s biggest sheet-metal contractor and a financial wheeler-dealer.
His mother, his own brother and others say he did it by quitting his father`s sheet-metal company, taking away customers and employees and eventually driving his old man out of business.
As his younger brother put it: ``Bob actually worked to destroy his own father. Oh, he`s a real sweetheart all right.``
Then there`s his military record. Irsay has occasionally boasted about his wartime exploits. In interviews, he`s told of being injured by a Japanese grenade on New Guinea and being discharged as a commissioned officer.
Many of us like to talk about our wartime injuries. I`ve often told my kids how I wrenched my back when I got stewed and rolled out of an upper bunk. But the magazine checked Irsay`s version with the Pentagon. True, he was a marine. But the Japanese soldier who tossed the grenade must have had an incredible arm, since military records show that Irsay never left the states. And he was discharged as an enlisted man.
The magazine also looked into Irsay`s frequent boast that he played Big 10 football at the University of Illinois while getting a degree in electrical engineering. All this while waiting on tables at a frat house to work his way through school because his family was poor.
Being a former Big 10 football player has given Irsay the aura of having knowledge of the game.
But the magazine found that Irsay didn`t play football. Nor did he get a degree. And while he went to Illinois, he didn`t wait on tables--he belonged to the fraternity and his businessman father picked up the tab. Oh, details, details.
The oddest thing about Irsay`s version of his life story is his religion. Irsay, the magazine says, has always claimed that he was raised a Catholic. Which is fine. Nothing like being an alter boy or having the nuns teach you the three R`s.
But Irsay`s parents were immigrant Hungarian Jews. Their name originally was Israel. And his mother and brother say the children were raised as Jews, according to the magazine.
Now, there`s nothing wrong with being born a Jew and raised as a Jew. And, if somebody who is Jewish decides to become a Catholic, that`s his business.
But why go through the bother of denying being born into one of civilization`s oldest and most magnificent heritages?
Irsay doesn`t explain. When the magazine asked him about his marriage in 1947, he and the reporter had this hilarious exchange:
``I`m a Catholic. I was married by Father Dolan in the Queen of All Saints Church in Chicago. You can look it up.``
``You converted?``
``No.``
The reporter then asked him about another wedding performed by Rabbi Louis Binstock at Temple Sholom, paid for by his mother.
``That`s correct, also,`` Irsay says. ``I had two weddings.``
And he added: ``Maybe my mother converted to Jewish. I don`t know.``
So that`s Bob Irsay, the rich man that Indianapolis has helped make even richer.
Say, I wonder if those Hoosiers would like to take a few other Chicagoans off our hands.
I have this uncle, see. He used to pick pockets.
The Curse of Albert Belle
!n 1998, rather than go into full rebuilding mode, the Orioles decided to make a significant, high-risk plunge into the free agent market by signing former White Sox slugger Albert Belle to a franchise record contract. They gave Belle a five-year, $65 million contract with a three-year full no-trade provision. The contract was literally more than double what the Orioles were paying franchise icon Cal Ripken, Jr. There was no doubting Belle's enormous slugging ability (321 home runs in ten seasons). There was also no doubting a myriad of off-the-field controversies; including using a corked bat, a profanity-laced tirade directed at NBC reporter Hannah Storm along with other public outbursts of anger. His new team was crossing their fingers and hoping for the best.
Belle actually had two decent years -- hitting 60 home runs in 302 games -- but he didn't play the final three years of the deal because he retired with hip osteoarthritis. So the Orioles had to pay Belle $39 million not to ever come to the ballpark. Luckily for the team, a reported $27.1 million came back to them through an insurance policy. Though he wasn't completely responsible for the 14-year slide that lasted until 2012, I have labelled this era of futility as "The Curse of Albert Belle" because the O's gave a record contract to a player who was the antithesis of everything the organization stood for. Rather than embrace a city that loves its players, Belle brought his usual bag of craziness with him; causing the team's PR department to live in a constant state of worry and fear at what negative headlines he would generate.
Belle, almost from day one, didn't click with hitting coach Terry Crowley and decided not to take batting practice with the rest of the team or take advantage of Crowley's knowledge in one-on-one sessions. Instead, Belle did all his hitting indoors, with his twin brother, Terry, flipping balls to him. He did this with the team's blessing; obviously trying to make this marriage work.
Belle's decision to stop taking batting practice coincided with two off-the-field incidents. Belle was benched for defensive purposes after failing to run out a ground ball, leading to a heated exchange in the dugout with Orioles Manager Ray Miller. That same week, another incident came to light when a fan sent a letter to Orioles owner Peter Angelos complaining that Belle raised his middle finger and grabbed his crotch while facing in the direction of fans in the right field bleachers at Camden Yards.
The incidents led to Belle's benching and it was during an exchange around this time, according to Miller, that Belle expressed dissatisfaction with the Orioles' batting-practice pitching, and asked to be allowed to work on his own. Although Miller pointed out that Belle probably hits twice as long as anyone else, Miller felt Belle would benefit from seeing live pitching on the field before games.
The Orioles were not pleased with what Belle had done off the field. One team official said the organization is "concerned" about Belle's overall actions off the field, including breaking a preseason promise to be cooperative with the media. In addition to the these incidents, he also hurled a beer bottle through a television set in St. Petersburg.
Belle also accused the Orioles' public-relations staff in of leaking the story that he had agreed to waive his no-trade clause, even though the initial story quoted Chicago White Sox Manager Jerry Manuel as telling reporters that Belle had done so. During a later news conference, Belle denied that he had ever waived his no-trade clause.
It was a given in baseball circles that Albert Belle was nuts. The Indians billed him $10,000 a year for the damage he caused in clubhouses on the road and at home, and tolerated his behavior only because he was an awesome slugger. He slurped coffee constantly and seemed to be on a perpetual caffeinated frenzy. Few escaped his wrath: on some days he would destroy the postgame buffet; launching plates into the shower. After one poor at-bat against Boston, he retreated to the visitors' clubhouse and took a bat to teammate Kenny Lofton's boombox. Belle preferred to have the clubhouse cold, below 60 degrees, and when one chilly teammate turned up the heat, Belle walked over, turned down the thermostat and smashed it with his bat. His nickname, thereafter, was "Mr. Freeze."
In 2001, following his retirement, the New York Daily News' columnist Bill Madden wrote:
"Sorry, there'll be no words of sympathy here for Albert Belle. He was a surly jerk before he got hurt and now he's a hurt surly jerk. He was no credit to the game. Belle's boorish behavior should be remembered by every member of the Baseball Writers' Association when it comes time to consider him for the Hall of Fame."
In his first year of Hall of Fame eligibility (2006), he garnered only 7.7% of the baseball writers' votes, missing election by an extremely wide margin. But his vote total was high enough to keep his name on the ballot for the following year. In 2007, however, he garnered only 19 votes (3.5%).
Single Engine Plane Crashes in Memorial Stadium
On December 19, 1976, just minutes after the conclusion of an NFL playoff game with the Pittsburgh Steelers, a small plane buzzed the stadium, and then crashed into the upper rows of the upper tier of seating. Fortunately for the fans, the Steelers had won the game handily (40-14), and most of the fans had already exited the stadium by the time the game ended. There were no serious injuries, and the pilot was arrested for violating plane safety regulations. The pilot, Donald Kroner, had been grounded several years before for psychiatric reasons. He had also been arrested a few months earlier for making a bomb threat against former Colt linebacker Bill Pellington. Kroner was ejected from a restaurant and bar that Pellington owned for using abusive language and had been flying over the stadium in the week prior to the game as the Colts practiced. Kroner was treated for cuts and chest bruises from the crash before being arrested.
The Agony of 0-21
 SCAN0156 |
|---|
An unfortunate combination of aging veterans, questionable free-agent signings and a woefully unproductive farm system combined to cause the Orioles to start sinking in the mid 80s. Even luring Hall of Fame manager Earl Weaver out of retirement couldn’t keep Oriole Magic continuing unabated. Weaver retired for good after the 1986 season and longtime coach Cal Ripken Sr. finally got his long awaited chance to manage in the majors. Senior had a lifetime of baseball knowledge and strategy. He also had his son Cal Ripken Jr. and Eddie Murray anchoring his line-up, however the slide continued.
Even still, no one was prepared for the horrendous opening to the 1988 season as Baltimore set a major league record for losing their first 21 games of the season. Ripken Sr. was fired after the first six losses; replaced by Orioles Hall of Famer Frank Robinson. The team became the brunt of jokes nationwide (What do Oriole players and Michael Jackson have in common?....they both wear a glove for no apparent reason.) and earned the derisive nickname the ZerO’s.
For the final 10 games of the awful streak, Orioles fan and morning drive-time deejay Bob Rivers of rock station WIYY manned his microphone 24 hours a day, snatching sleep only when songs were being played, and rallying the city behind a team that would go on to record the worst start in major league history. He began his vigil believing it would last only a day or two but stoically stayed on for 258 hours—living primarily on pizza and potato chips, until the Orioles finally beat the Chicago White Sox 9-0. Sports Illustrated devoted an issue cover to the O’s woes and fittingly their winning streak ended at one as they lost the next day on their way to a 54-107 record; 34-1/2 games out of first place.
The "KICK"
The rivalry between the Baltimore Colts and the Green Bay Packers dominated the NFL throughout the 1960s. While the mutual dislike between the two teams probably never reached Ravens vs Steelers proportions, it was intense nonetheless. A controversial playoff game result in 1965 sealed Colt fan hatred for the Packers for the remainder of their time in Baltimore. On a play dubbed “The Kick”, the worst recorded play in NFL history went against the Colts
The playoff game came to be as the two teams finished the regular season tied with 10-3-1 records. The Colts clinched the tie on the heroics on running back Tom Matte; who filled in at quarterback as Johnny Unitas and back-up Gary Cuozzo both went down with injuries. Matte, with only three days to practice for the role and wearing a wristband with a ready-list of plays attached, ran for 99 yards on 16 carries and gutted out the in over the Los Angeles Rams. The only tie breaker back then to determine who would play the Cleveland Browns for the NFL title was to play another game. The Packers won the coin flip and the game was played in Green Bay.
The Colts surprised the football world by taking a 10-0 lead, then the Packers fought back to make it 10-7. With under two minutes remaining in the game. Packers kicker Don Chandler tried a routine game tying 22 yard field goal. As the television replay showed, the kick was clearly wide left but referee Jim Tunney signaled good. Lou Michaels and Fred Miller, on the field-goal defending unit, were livid. They led the debate, screaming the kick had gone wide of the 10-foot-high upright. But it also was above the top of the post, meaning Tunney had to visualize an imaginary vertical line extending upward. Because of this, the NFL wound up lengthening the goal post uprights another ten feet; which gave them the derisive nickname “Baltimore Extensions.”
On the NFL Films clip of the attempt, Chandler can be seen looking away in disgust and was also the recipient on a thorough butt-chewing out from his coach Vince Lombardi for his reaction. And yet, the official under the uprights signaled the field goal was good; sending the game into overtime. Chandler wound up kicking the game-winning field goal and the Packers won 13-10. Green Bay would go on to win another NFL Championship the next week; depriving Baltimore of a chance for a championship rematch against the Browns.
Alomar spits on Hirschbeck
Over the course of his 17-year career, Roberto Alomar established himself as the best second baseman in baseball. He won 10 gold gloves, recorded 2724 hits, stole 474 bases, and was a 12-time All-Star during his Hall of Fame career. Three of those seasons were with the Orioles and included the one event that blemished his otherwise magnificent career.
Baltimore was playing in Toronto toward the end of the 1996 season. Umpire John Hirschbeck struck out Roberto on a called third strike. Alomar went ballistic, firing a series of brutal insults before manager Davey Johnson could interfere. Alomar, who was ejected by that point, suddenly spit right at Hirschbeck's face, prompting further bickering before the second baseman could be hauled away. Alomar later said he was prompted to spit on Hirschbeck when the ump began using racial insults, particularly one about his mother. Hirschbeck denied this claim, saying that if he used any vulgar language it was after he was spit on, not before. Davey Johnson never divulged what he heard at home plate, only saying, ''I think they're both guilty."
Alomar instantly became a media pariah for spitting at an authority figure. His post-game comments incited even more criticism. ''I used to respect him a lot. He had a problem with his family when his son died -- I know that's something real tough in life -- but after that he just changed, personality-wise. He just got real bitter.'' Hirschbeck's eight-year old son, John Drew, died in 1993 from ALD, a rare condition that causes inflammation of the brain. His nine-year old son, Michael, was diagnosed with the same inflection. When Hirschbeck got wind of Alomar's comments the next day, he rushed into the Oriole's clubhouse shouting that he wanted to "kill" him. The other umpires had to race in and restrain him.
Following the regular season, the umpires' union threatened to strike. They were outraged that Alomar only received a five-game suspension, that he would be paid for all five games and that his suspension wouldn't go into effect until next April. Major League Baseball, fearing that a strike could cancel the World Series for the second time in three years, received an injunction from a federal judge that ruled the umpires could not strike because it would violate the labor agreement they signed with MLB in May of 1995. Baltimore beat the Indians in four games but the aftermath of the spitting incident and then the Jeffrey Maier fiasco in the next round against the Yankees tarnished the O’s return to postseason after a 12-year absence.
Alomar apologized to Hirschbeck that October, and the two have since reconciled their differences. When they faced each other for the first time since the spitting incident, Alomar shook hands with Hirschbeck. The two now claim each other as friends. Michael Hirschbeck was a batboy with the Indians during Alomar's three-year stint with Cleveland, and Alomar has donated money to Hirschbeck's foundation dedicated to fighting ALD.
"If that's the worst thing Robbie ever does in his life, he'll lead a real good life," Hirschbeck said. "People make mistakes. You forgive, you forget and you move on."
When the Colts left town: the night that lives on in infamy
by Kevin Cowherd, The Baltimore Sun
I was there that night. It was 28 years ago, in the snowy, pre-dawn darkness of March 29, that the Mayflower vans rumbled out of Owings Mills and the Baltimore Colts left for Indianapolis, ripping an entire city's heart out in the process.
Just before midnight, we started getting calls on the sports desk at the old Evening Sun that there was unusual activity taking place at the Colts complex. At first we thought it was just a couple of crank calls. But more folks were calling in to report that the complex was lit up, with the sound of trucks echoing everywhere and security guards stopping anyone not authorized to enter.
I jumped in a car with two other Evening Sun reporters and a photographer and we went fish-tailing out of the Sun parking lot. We set a new land-speed record for the drive out there and arrived shortly after midnight.
The scene was absolutely surreal.
Our jaws dropped: it was true. The Colts were leaving town. Yes, it had been rumored for weeks that this might happen. But as one veteran TV sportscaster noted -- this was the late, great Chris Thomas -- it was like something out of a Fellini movie.
With the snow now blowing almost sideways, thick, white flakes were outlined against the dark green of the Mayflower moving vans as they roared out of the gates, one after the other in periodic intervals.
Some hired security goons prevented us from going inside. Even people who worked for the Colts that had been alerted to the move and were now trying to retrieve their stuff were refused entry.
So we stood outside the gates and interviewed everyone we could: stunned onlookers with tears in their eyes, disbelieving cops who had been called to the scene, the few Colts staffers who were allowed inside and were now leaving in their own cars.
The wind blew and the snow fell. We stayed out there for four hours as the moving vans rumbled out, until at last most of them were gone.
Then we thawed out with steaming cups of coffee in a diner on Reisterstown Road before racing back downtown to file our stories -- the biggest story most of us had ever covered.
And all throughout that long, gloomy night, we turned to each other seemingly every few minutes to say in hushed tones: "Can you believe this is happening?"
Twenty-eight years later, it still feels like a dream.
A bad dream.
John Elway Disses the Baltimore Colts
In the 1983 NFL Draft Elway was selected as the first overall pick by the Baltimore Colts. (He is one of three quarterbacks in the history of the draft to be chosen first and later be inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. The other two are Terry Bradshaw and Troy Aikman.) Elway was wary of playing for the Colts, then among the worst teams in the league, and his father advised him against playing for head coach Frank Kush, who had a reputation as a harsh taskmaster.
After unsuccessfully attempting to negotiate a private agreement with the Colts in which Elway would cite his alleged desire to remain on the West coast to explain the team trading him, Elway publicly threatened to join the Yankees full-time if the Colts did not trade him; his agent Marvin Demoff wrote in his journal, published three decades later, that "he would be a garbage collector before he'd play for Baltimore."
The Colts' general manager Ernie Accorsi badly wanted Elway as, Accorsi later said, he (correctly) did not foresee the 1984 Draft as producing any first-round quarterbacks, and announced Elway as the team's choice as soon as possible during the 15-minute window on draft day, surprising observers. Elway that day reiterated his wish to not play for the Colts at a press conference, saying "As I stand here right now, I'm playing baseball". (When a reporter pointed out that the Yankees were not based on the West coast, Elway replied "They play baseball during the summertime".) The Colts, however, were interested in offensive lineman Chris Hinton, who the Denver Broncoshad chosen as the fourth pick in the first round. On May 2, Colts owner Robert Irsay and Accorsi agreed to trade Elway for Hinton, backup quarterback Mark Herrmann, and a first-round pick in 1984.
Cito SUCKS, Cito SUCKS, Cito SUCKS
The All-Star game in 1993 was held, as most of you I'm sure know, at Oriole Park at Camden Yards. It was only the second year that Camden Yards was open, so everything was still shiny and new and people couldn't stop going on about how beautiful it was. Two Orioles made it that year; Cal Ripken was the starting shortstop, and twenty-four year old Mike Mussina was making his second consecutive all-star appearance in his third season in the majors. Left off the roster was the Orioles closer Gregg Olson, who was in the midst of an absolutely filthy season.
Managing for the AL All-Stars that year was Cito Gaston of the reigning world championToronto Blue Jays. Three Blue Jays had been voted into the game that year: Joe Carter, Roberto Alomar and John Olerud. Gaston supplemented the roster with four more: Devon White, Pat Hentgen, Paul Molitor, and Duane Ward.
The National League jumped out to a two-run lead in the first inning, but from then on it was all American League offense. The AL scored nine times in the first seven innings and took a healthy six-run lead into the bottom of the ninth inning. Gaston had worked through his list of pitchers, using Mark Langston, Randy Johnson, Jack McDowell, Jimmy Key, Jeff Mongomery, and Rick Aguilera.
Options for the ninth inning were Mussina, the home town ace, and two Blue Jays: Duane Ward and Pat Hentgen. Gaston opted not to use Mussina, and when Mike found out, he got up and began throwing in the bullpen. This got the hometown crowd riled up, which of course was exactly what Mussina wanted. He'd say later that he was simply getting his throwing in because that was his schedule, but Mussina was playing the crowd.
When Gaston opted to bring in his closer, Ward, instead of Mussina, the crowd went nuts. They chanted "We want Mike!" But Mussina wouldn't enter the game. This spawned a hatred of Cito Gaston that lasts until this day. You couldn't go anywhere around the Baltimore area without seeing a shirt that looked kinda like this. The most popular of these shirts said "Cito Sucks" on the front and "Kill the Blow Jays" on the back.
Much has been made of this incident, and while it's true that Mussina was in all likelihood trying to rile up the crowd as a way to get back at Gaston for not using him, the simple fact is that there is no reason why Mussina shouldn't have been used in the first place. The All-Star Game is an exhibition and a celebration of the game (especially back then when there were no postseason implications), and there would have been no better way to celebrate in Baltimore than for Mike Mussina to close out a win at Camden Yards. There's nothing wrong with saving a few pitchers in case the game goes into extra innings, but by the time Gaston needed to make a decision on the ninth inning the game was in hand. He chose Duane Ward because he wanted to play his own player, and while that decision is understandable on a personal level, the All-Star Game is bigger than Cito Gaston. He knew that, he ignored it, and he deserved the ire that was piled upon him.
Jeffrey Maier deserves a big Bronx Cheer
On October 9, 1996, the Yankees trailed the Orioles 4–3 in the bottom of the eighth inning when shortstop Derek Jeter hit a deep fly ball to right field. Right fielder Tony Tarasco moved near the fence and appeared "to draw a bead on the ball when the then-12-year-old Jeffrey Maier clearly reached over the fence separating the stands and the field of play 9 feet below, snatched the ball with a glove of his own. While baseball fans are permitted to catch (and keep) balls hit into the stands, if "a spectator reaches out of the stands, or goes on the playing field, and touches a live ball" spectator interference is to be called.
Right field umpire Rich Garcia immediately ruled the play a home run, tying the game at 4–4, despite the protest of Tarasco and Orioles manager Davey Johnson (the latter was ejected in the ensuing argument).
The Yankees won the game in the eleventh inning on Bernie Williams' walk-off home run. The Orioles maintained their protest of the Maier play after the conclusion of the game, but their protest was denied by American League President Gene Budig because judgment calls cannot be protested. After viewing the replay, Garcia admitted that there was spectator interference, though he maintained the ball was not catchable. Garcia's contention that the ball was not catchable has been disputed. Had Garcia ruled it spectator interference, he would have then used his own judgment to determine what the most likely outcome of the play would be—either an out or awarding Jeter a given number of bases.
The Yankees went on to win the series against Baltimore, four games to one, as well as the World Series against the Atlanta Braves. As a result of the play, a railing was added behind the right field wall at Yankee Stadium to prevent fans from reaching over it.
Meanwhile, in New York, Maier became a minor celebrity. The New York Daily News allowed him to sit behind the Yankee dugout later in the postseason. The boy appeared on national talk shows.
Tagliabue: Baltimore, Go Build a Museum
In May of 1991, the NFL announced it was expanding from 28 to 30 teams for the 1995 season and cities started lining up for the opportunity to have professional football come town. Cities with previous NFL pedigree like Oakland, St. Louis, and Baltimore began an effort to rekindle their relationship with pro football while other locales like Sacramento, Charlotte, Memphis, and Jacksonville all offered the enticement of breaking new ground in areas previously untouched by the NFL. By May of 1992, the NFL had whittled the contenders down to five potential new teams: the Baltimore Bombers, the St. Louis Stallions, the Carolina Panthers, the Memphis Hound Dogs, and the Jacksonville Jaguars.
Despite having what was considered one of the stronger bids, the prospective Bomber franchise had a problem: the NFL braintrust. Commissioner Tagliabue and his cronies apparently had what former Baltimore Sun reporter Vito Stellino referred to as an “A.B.B Policy” or anyone but Baltimore. Tagliabue, current NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, and Washington Redskins owner Jack Kent Cooke worked behind the scenes to railroad any chance for Baltimore to gain momentum as the city of choice for the final expansion franchise.
By the end of 1993, Carolina and Jacksonville were anointed as worthy of the NFL. Ken Rosenthal of the Baltimore Sun, noting the commissioner's affinity for Jacksonville, dubbed him "The Sun King". Favoring an expansion candidate with no stadium plan in place and the smallest television market over one steeped in history and tradition, Tagliabue suggested that Baltimore could use their stadium money to build a museum.
So why not Charm City? You see, “reasoned” Tagliabue and the NFL, some cities are football towns and some are museum towns. Plus, Baltimore was “clearly” part of the Washington DC market and plans were in the works for Cooke and the Redskins to replace RFK Stadium with a shiny new palace in Laurel, a location close enough to Baltimore to finally put any hope of getting a new NFL team to rest.
The whole process was pretty much a sham and a slap in the face to the city and community. Those involved in the process from the Baltimore side were disillusioned and disgusted.
“I’m sorry,” prospective Bombers owner Leonard “Boogie” Weinglass told the New York Times. “I’ve had enough, enough.”
Another prospective Bombers owner and future Tampa Bay Buccaneers owner Malcolm Glazer, told the Times, “I’m going to go home and cry. I feel very sad. Baltimore has a group of fans you can’t find anywhere else in America.”
For a generation, it was a frustrating time to be an NFL fan with an allegiance to the city of Baltimore. Many were too young to remember the Colts, but never felt comfortable rooting for the Redskins. While some had Washington fans in their family, many more believed that Baltimore fans “don’t root for DC teams, especially the Redskins.” The city was a city without a team. The expansion process was both exciting and disheartening, leaving many with an understandably bad taste in their mouths.
Broadway Joe's Guarantee
The 1968 Colts had just finished the best season in team history; going 13-1 during the regular season and after taking out the Minnesota Vikings 24-14 in the first round of the playoffs, completely obliterated the Cleveland Browns 34-0 to advance to Super Bowl III. By game time, Baltimore was a 19-1/2 point favorite over the New York Jets of the AFL. Nobody in their right mind thought the Colts would lose this game. Nobody but Jets quarterback Joe Namath.
Namath more than earned the nickname “Broadway Joe” with his outspoken, brash lifestyle. He embraced the City That Never Sleeps and probably started the tradition of making headlines during the week leading up to the big game. He almost got into a fight with Colt Lou Michaels; who was clearly not a fan of Namath’s brash personality. He stayed out late partying one night and overslept the next morning; missing a mandatory team photo session. But his biggest bombshell--after being asked about the large point spread on the game---said the unthinkable. “We’re going to win the game. I guarantee it.”
In between making outrageous comments and staying out late and enjoying adult beverages, Namath apparently did his homework and noticed a yet to be exploited weaknesses in the Baltimore defense. Running a fairly conservative offense, the Jets pounded the ball on the ground with journeyman back Matt Snell picking up 121 yards. Colts quarterback Earl Morrall, who was named NFL MVP, had perhaps the worst game of his career; completing just 6 of 17 passes with three interceptions for a dismal QB rating of 9.3. Down 16-0, Baltimore coach Don Shula took Morrall out and went with Johnny Unitas, who has missed almost the entire season due to injury. The Golden Arm rallied the Colts with a touchdown drive late in the fourth quarter, but it was too little too late.
The stunning loss left Baltimore sports fans to ponder what could have been. Perhaps a long and illustrious coaching career for Shula with the Colts instead of Miami. Perhaps the Colts never winding up in the hands of the evil buffoon Bob Irsay and eventually leaving to Indy. Oh what could have been.
O's Fall to the Miracle Mets
The year 1969 was anything but kind to the Baltimore Sports fan. First there was Joe Namath’s “guarantee” and then deliverance of the 16-7 upset win by the New York Jets over the heavily favored Colts. Then the New York Knicks knocked the Baltimore Bullets out of the NBA playoffs. So when the New York Mets, who had never won more than 73 games nor finished higher than next to last in a season couldn’t possibly continue New York’s mastery over their Charm City sports foes in the 1969 World Series. Not against the Orioles; winners of 109 games and as balanced and talented a team in baseball. No possibly way, right? But hey, this was the year a man landed and walked on the moon. Anything is possible.
After Mike Cuellar outdueled Mets ace Tom Seaver--a 25-game winner--4-1 in game 1 at Memorial Stadium, Orioles fans were thinking their “Would You Believe Four Straight” mantra from the 1966 World Series would be reincarnated. But New York, who had won 38 of their last 49 games before sweeping the Atlanta Braves in the NLCS, were getting used to winning. Jerry Koosman outdueled Dave McNally 2-1 in game two and the Mets blanked the Birds 5-0 in game three as the series moved to New York’s Shea Stadium.
A controversial non-interference called allowed pinch runner Rod Gaspar to race home with the winning run in a 2-1, 10 inning win for the Mets in game four. McNally was cruising along as the Orioles led 3-0 in game five. The Mets, however, would benefit from two questionable umpire's calls. In the top of the sixth inning, Koosman appeared to have hit Frank Robinson with a pitch, but plate umpire Lou DiMuro ruled that the pitch hit his bat before hitting him and denied him first base. Replays showed, however, that Robinson was indeed hit first—the ball struck him on the hip, then bounced up and hit his bat.
In the bottom of the sixth, McNally bounced a pitch that appeared to have hit Mets left fielder Cleon Jones on the foot, then bounced into the Mets' dugout. McNally and the Orioles claimed the ball hit the dirt and not Jones, but Mets manager Gil Hodges showed the ball to DiMuro, who found a spot of shoe polish on the ball and awarded Jones first base. McNally then gave up Series MVP Donn Clendenon's third homer of the series (a then record for a five-game World Series). The Mets' winning runs scored in the eighth as Game 4 defensive hero Ron Swoboda doubled in Jones with the go-ahead run. Swoboda then scored when Jerry Grote's grounder was mishandled by first baseman Boog Powell, whose throw to first was then dropped by pitcher Eddie Watt in an unusual double error. The stellar defense and clutch hitting that were both hallmarks of the Orioles became conspicuous by their absence as the Miracle Mets continued to make 1969 a year that Baltimore sports fans would like to forget.
We Are Family Does In Orioles Magic
Up three games to one in the 1979 World Series and Cy Young Award winner Mike Flanagan making the start in game 5, the Orioles looked like a cinch to cap off a magical season with a world championship. Baltimore had fallen in love again with its baseball team as this band of solid, yet unheralded players with a couple of stars named Murray and Palmer and a genius manager named Weaver cruised to the AL East title; ending the Yankees two-year reign as World Series champs before finishing off the California Angels to take the ALCS.
Their rallying cry song “Orioles Magic” told the team’s story in the lyrics: Something magic happens, every time you go. You make the magic happen. The magic of Orioles baseball. When the game is close and the O’s are hot, there’s a thundering roar from (Section) 34 to give it all they’ve got. And you never know whose gonna hear the call. Every game there’s a different star. That’s the magic of Orioles baseball. Yes, Orioles Magic seemed a certainty to prevail; even if the DH rule was not a part of the series and Baltimore slugger Lee May was relegated to the bench.
The Orioles opponent in the Series, the Pittsburgh Pirates, were also a team of largely obscure players and their pillbox-style caps had more stars on them than their roster. Mid-season acquisitions gave the Bucs a new left side of the infield with steady fielding shortstop Tim Foli and former two-time batting champion Bill Madlock at third. But there was this fearful slugger named Willie Stargell and his series performance was the icing on a Hall-of Fame career. “Pops” as they called him, batted .400 for the series with three home runs and a total of seven extra base hits, as the Bucs rallied to take the series in seven games; including the final two at Memorial Stadium. Game one of the series was postponed a day because of snow and the temperature at game time was just 41 degrees. Even colder were the Orioles bats; managing just two runs over the final 28 innings with Murray going 0-for-21
The Pirates adopted the disco song “We Are Family” as their rallying cry and to this day, just the mere hearing of that song stirs up feelings of nausea and disgust among die-hard Oriole fans. A little consolation can be had from the fact that Pittsburgh has not made it back to the World Series since.
Antonio Brown becomes the Ravens Mr. Grinch
The Baltimore Ravens and the Pittsburgh Steelers have become one of the NFL’s greatest rivalries; a rivalry chronicled on its own page on this website. Two divisional opponents that combined have won 11 of the last 15 division titles. Mutual respect, yes. Complete dislike for each other, absolutely. With the 2016 AFC North title on the line, the two teams met on Christmas night at Heinz Field. What ensued was a classic passing duel between Joe Flacco (30-44, 262 yards, 1 TD) and Ben Roethlisberger (24-33, 279 yards, 3 TD, 2 INTs). Four Justin Tucker field goals and a touchdown catch by Steve Smith Sr. gave the Ravens a 20-10 lead early in the 4th quarter. A pair of Le’Veon Bell touchdowns allowed the Steelers to retake the lead until Baltimore fullback Kyle Juszczyk capped a 14-play, 75-yard drive with a 10-yard run to put the Ravens ahead 27-24 with just over a minute left to play. But, as it turned out, there was another 75-yard drive yet to happen. Roethlisberger engineered another one of his classic game on the line drives and moved the ball down the Baltimore four-yard line. Antonio Brown, who had already caught nine passes, hauled in another Roethlisberger toss at the one and as he was getting hit by Ravens safety Eric Weddle; he extended his arm just enough for the ball to cross the plane of the goal line with just nine seconds left to give Pittsburgh a 37-31 win. A collective groan could be heard throughout Charm City. Another Christmas heartbreak for Baltimore football fans; courtesy of “The Stretch”.