If you know of a place I can find a dead horse, ship it to me in Indianapolis. I’m here all week covering Super Bowl 46.
I’ll find a baseball bat somewhere in the hotel.
Today was the once-a-year occasion where everyone in Baltimore gets to see precisely why the Ravens are the Ravens and play in front of 70,000 people ten times a year and why the Orioles are the Orioles and play in front of crowds of 7,000 more times than they’ll ever publicly admit.
In a weird twist of fate, I have another story to add to the mix. It won’t surprise you. But it will be another log-in-the-fire that continues to rage in Baltimore as our baseball team – now with a new accomplice – once again displays an amazing lack of professionalism.
How does that situation involve you and/or the fans in Baltimore?
It does, trust me.
If you saw the press conference today – the “State of the Ravens” as they like to call it in Owings Mills – you witnessed the football organization allowing the media to openly discuss their method of operation. There was nothing particularly earth shattering to come out of the 55-minute gathering. It was filled with mostly benign stuff like “Joe Flacco and Ray Rice are a priority.” (We knew that already.) ”The Ravens are going to do everything we can to get better by looking at all available player options.” (Right…we knew that too.) ”We feel like our team is built for the now and the future.” (Of course you do.)
But it wasn’t the content or the quality that mattered today. When you’re 12-4 and come within three-tenths of a second from going to the Super Bowl, there aren’t a lot of blemishes and hiccups to discuss.
What was important, of course, was the mere fact that the Ravens undressed themselves in front of the media and allowed everyone to ask questions about their hairy legs, love handles and receding hairline.
The Orioles never let you see them dressed or undressed. Unless you happen to be part of their inner circle.
They remain as disingenious with the community and the media as they’ve ever been, despite modest improvements over the last few years in their day-of-game entertainment and civic endeavors. They’re the friend who ignores your text when your car breaks down and you need a ride to work. They’re the co-worker who tells you the company tickets for the football game have been claimed, only to see them in the top drawer of his desk a week later when he asks you to grab his car keys before heading out to lunch. The Orioles are the ex-girlfriend who never liked your favorite band until AFTER you guys broke up eight months ago.
They’re lazy, mean-spirited and never quite fully aware of how much they hurt you. (Please see next page)