INDIANAPOLIS — If you’ve tuned into my programming or radio show or WNST at any point over the past two decades, you’ll know there is no love lost with me and Indianapolis. It’s a place I’ve visited far too many times over the past 15 years and a town that has sent me packing for the airport far too many times with Ravens’ losses instead of wins.
Every March, I’m here for the annual NFL combine and despite many memories of beers with coaches, prospects in gym shorts with prison numbers and sinuses bleeding from the shrimp cocktail at St. Elmo’s Steakhouse, there has never been any love lost between me and Indianapolis.
Here are a few examples of my past angst, anger and longing about all things blue and white and horseshoes:
And then there’s this genius, who I met the day that Chris McAlister allowed Peyton Manning to play catch with Reggie Wayne and friends:
I’ve opined regarding my experiences and relationship with Indianapolis Colts owner Jim Irsay and finally “dropped the sword” two years ago after 26 years of angst related to his father Bob’s moving of my childhood love and passion, the Baltimore Colts via Mayflower vans in the middle of the night.
And perhaps the ultimate indignity was watching Lee Evans drop a sure touchdown and Billy Cundiff miss a chip-shot field goal that would’ve sent the Baltimore Ravens to this Super Bowl just 12 days ago in New England as undoubtedly a favorite to win Baltimore’s second Super Bowl of the purple era and then