THEY WERE US: THE COLTS AND BALTIMORE
by Rick Benson
Although you’d likely get disagreement from the citizens of Green Bay, Pittsburgh and maybe others, no sports team was ever as connected and part of the city’s fabric like the Colts were to Baltimore. Not only where they the city’s Sunday heroes, they were their neighbors. They attended the same churches, worked side-by-side during the off-season and enjoyed the cold beverages together at local watering holes. Their kids played with our kids. It seems like every Baltimorean from that era had a personal story of connection with one or more of the Colt players. They were us.
The Colts were revered and personalized. They gained an identity and popularity that set them apart. "I think it was something that can never be repeated in sports again," says Tom Matte, a broadcaster who was a halfback (and emergency quarterback) for the Colts from 1961 to 1972. "We were part of the community. We interacted with the fans. We were real. I had a listed phone number!" Hall of Fame running back Lenny Moore, who was the city’s first African-American sports star during a time when racial divide was still very much a part of the landscape, recalled “The players built their own popularity in a community that embraced them and became your good neighbor. "Playing for the Colts was something special. We were good for the city and the city was good for us. The most famous Baltimore Colt of all time, Quarterback Johnny Unitas, even said "I don't know if Baltimore will ever again capture the wild enthusiasm our teams enjoyed.”
Bruce Laird, who played defensive back for the Colts during much of the dreaded Irsay period from 1972 to 1981, and is now an executive for Multi-Specialty Healthcare, speaks fondly of the era right before he joined the team: "Seventy-five percent of the players who played here lived here. They raised their children here. You saw them at the grocery store. They went to the school board meetings. They were part of the community in every sense of the word." And the players themselves had a special bond that inspired the fans. "We were a close-knit group," explains Matte. "We stuck together."
Often an overlooked afterthought to their I-95 corridor neighbors from Washington, Philadelphia, New York and Boston; Baltimore wallowed in a massive inferiority complex, albeit often self-inflicted. Unitas lent much to the Colts' persona, a kid rejected by his hometown team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, who was signed to a $7,000 contract (no bonus) in Baltimore, and when he got the opportunity proved he had enormous ability. Unitas became Charm City’s gift to American folklore by what he represented – a little-known player who wouldn't take no for an answer because all he wanted was a chance to show what he could do; becoming, as Sports Illustrated would proclaim “The Best There Ever Was.”
Then there were the Colts. A 1967 Life Magazine cover featuring a story by local author Ogden Nash was titled “My Colts.” Nash wrote that “Colt Fever” is “the disease fate holds in store / For the population of Baltimore / A disease more virulent than rabies / Felling men and women and even babies.”
Nash was not alone in self-identification with the men whose helmets had horseshoes. Every kid—myself included—wanted to be Unitas, who made crew cuts and high top sneakers the favored look of the day. My mother used to drag me as a kid to the Wilmington Dry Goods, which was a discount store with a seemingly endless amount of wooden tables piled with clothes. I hated having to go there on Saturdays until one week I went and they had Baltimore Colts sweatshirts available. Team apparel, unlike today, was a rarity back then and I whined and fussed until my mother finally gave in and bought me the Colts sweatshirt—a white shirt with a side view of the horseshoe helmet above three inch letters spelling out COLTS. Come to think of it, that might have been the last time she made me go to the Dry Goods.
The Baltimore Colts were a civic treasure. There are scores of men now approaching social security age from Baltimore named Johnny, Lennie, Artie, Gino, Alan and Raymond. They put the city on the sports map by knocking off the New York Giants in the 1958 NFL Championship game; the game that to this day is still referred to as “The Greatest Game Ever Played.” More books have been penned about that game—the first televised pro football championship game ever---than any other. The commemorative 45 rpm record of the game produced by National Bohemian Beer found its way onto local jukeboxes. The game itself turned Unitas, who engineered the drive that sent the game into overtime, into an MVP and a national phenomenon. But he was still Johnny U; confident, yet humble and unassuming. He turned down an opportunity to appear on the Ed Sullivan Show; opting instead to travel home and celebrate with his teammates, which opened the door for halfback Alan Ameche, who scored the game winning touchdown, to appear instead.
Local “Blue Laws” made sure that Colts games didn’t start before 2:00 p.m. on Sundays and the churches on Loch Raven Boulevard were packed with attending worshippers who then made their way to 33rd Street to the “World’s Largest Outdoor Insane Asylum” in time for a little pregame tailgating. Once inside, it was the Baltimore Colts Marching Band playing the familiar fight song “Let’s Go You Colts” and then game time featuring multiple Unitas to Raymond Berry pass completions and a loft or two to Jimmy Orr in the corner of the end zone that was affectionately dubbed “Orrsville.” Cheers of “C-O-L-T-S” burst forth from the stadium to be heard in the surrounding neighborhoods of Waverly and Ednor Gardens.
The Colts were very visible in the community, doing public relations work, charity work and taking second jobs as products of an era long before the mega salary explosion of modern times. Monday nights they were showing up at a little bar in Highlandtown, named Gus’s Downbeat. The word got out that players like Carl Taseff, Artie Donovan, and others were showing up and patrons would actually stand in line outside to chat with them. Art DeCarlo opened a putt-putt course, Jim Parker ran a package goods store and Lenny Moore tried his luck with a night club. Bill Pellington owned and operated the “Iron Horse” steak house. Ordell Braase had the Flaming Pit and Art Donovan had the Valley Country Club. Ameche, Gino Marchetti, Joe Capanella and a silent partner bought an old ice cream parlor on Loch Raven and converted it to a fast food drive-in named Ameche’s that featured Powerhouse sandwiches, fries and Coke. “Meet-cha at Ameche’s,” was heard on the radio and TV commercials. Marchetti branched off and opened fast food hamburger stands all over town and customers ordered his famous Gino Giant sandwiches to go.
Unitas opened his bowling alley in Dundalk and later on, his restaurant (along with co-owner Bobby Boyd), The “Golden Arm” in Towson where he was always found welcoming visitors, signing autographs and posing for pictures. The Golden Arm was not only Unitas’ restaurant, it was a place where fans would grab brunch and then hop on a bus taking them right to Memorial Stadium.
The bus would return after the game along with players who were again just part of the community. "It was sort of our hangout after the game," Matte told The Baltimore Sun. "Three-quarters of the team would come back. ... It was a meeting place." On the other side of town in South Baltimore, you would also find Colts players at Club 4100; another place where Unitas would visit after games. Outside of Club 4100, it is a shrine to Unitas. His handprint, of the right hand that threw the ball 39,768 yards for the Colts, is cast in a block of cement sitting outside
In later years, even after the Colts were stolen away on that fateful evening of March 28, 1984, many former players continued to stand out in the community. Wide receiver Sam Havrilak became a dentist and still has his practice on Joppa Rd in Parkville. Lydell Mitchell teamed up with Penn State teammate and Hall of Famer Franco Harris to rescue Parks Sausage from bankruptcy and became company CEO. Defensive lineman Joe Ehrmann is not only a football coach at Gilman High School but also a minister and co-founder of a youth program called Building Men for Others which deals with life coaching and breaking negative life-cycle patterns. Lenny Moore worked in public relations for the Colts until their 1984 departure but continues to do community service in Baltimore to this day. Throughout the country, there are dozens of business and community leaders who once played at 2:00 pm on Sunday afternoons at Memorial Stadium.
The Baltimore Colts Marching Band may in fact be the most tangible evidence of the magical bond between Baltimore and its beloved Colts. After that fateful evening on March 28, 1984 when the Mayflower fans unceremoniously carted away everything of the team in route to Indianapolis and a city mourned the death of its team, one last vestige of its proud heritage remained. As chronicled in a 2009 ESPN 30 for 30 documentary titled “The Band That Wouldn’t Die”, director and Baltimore native Barry Levinson told the story of how the band stayed together despite not having a team to march and play for on Sunday afternoons. The marching band was founded on September 7, 1947 to support the Baltimore Colts of the All-America Football Conference. The team folded after the 1950 season, but the band continued to play together until a new Baltimore Colts franchise was founded in 1953 to play at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore. In 1984, the Baltimore Colts' Marching Band was once again without a team. During the twelve-year period in which Baltimore had no football team, the marching band stayed together, continuing to practice every week in hopes that a new team would arrive.
The band stayed together, playing at football halftime shows and marching in parades, eventually becoming well known as "Baltimore's Pro-Football Musical Ambassadors". The band remained an all-volunteer band as it is today and supported itself. When Baltimore was in the running for an NFL franchise in the 1990s, band president John Ziemann enlisted the band's help in convincing the Maryland General Assembly, the state legislature, to approve funding for a new football stadium. The band played on the steps of the Maryland State House while the legislature was in session one evening, causing a crowd to gather, including then-Governor William Donald Schaefer, who had been pushing hard for a team and a football stadium. Eventually, the legislature approved the funding for what is now M&T Bank Stadium; the home of the Baltimore Ravens. The Baltimore Colts' Marching Band retained their name until 1998, when they renamed themselves Baltimore's Marching Ravens. And the band plays on.
No recollection of the bond between Baltimoreans and the Colts would be complete without mentioning Colts Corrals. Under the leadership of Leo Novak and Ed Loud, and along with the blessings of Don Kellett, general manager, and Ray Gilland of the Baltimore Colts, the era of the Baltimore Football Fan Club was birthed with Colts Corral #1 founded in 1957. Meetings were held twice monthly during the football season, and once monthly during the off-season. Some of the famous visitors to the Corral meetings in the early years included Unitas, Donovan, Kellett, Weeb Eubank, Joe Croghan, L.G. Dupre, John Steadman, Bailey Goss, Joe Bellino, and other players on the Navy football team. In October 1957, Colts Corral #2 was formed with Hurst Loudenslager as president. 'Loudy' as he was known, was instrumental in the formation of the Council of Colts Corrals in 1964. 'Loudy' was a Colts fan icon in the 60's and 70's who always greeted the players at the airport returning from away games; complete with a portable phonograph player to play the Colts Fight Song. The Corrals, who maintained specific and detailed requirements to achieve club status, continue to operate today as Ravens Roosts and have carried on the tradition of annual conventions in Ocean City and Bull and Oyster roasts.
As time marches on and generations now only know of the Baltimore Ravens, the rich history of the Baltimore Colts is a recollection of the remaining of us who knew what 2:00 pm on Sunday was all about. Apart from the wins and losses, the Colts and Baltimore enjoyed a relationship that few cities and teams ever fostered. They'll be remembered with fondness -- not only for the talent exhibited but more so for the kind of men they were and what they gave to a community that made the Baltimore Colts more than just another football team playing for a paycheck. They were us.
