Halfway to N’Awlins- Look. I’m a Steelers fan. So this isn’t easy for me. Granted, it’s not as bad as 1986 when I had to choose between the Red Sox and the Mets.
That’s like trying to choose between John Wayne Gacy and Jerry Sandusky.
For the record, I decided to root for the Red Sox figuring, well, I hate both teams a whole helluva lot, but if the Mets win, being a New Yorker, the parade of bullshit would be constant, as opposed to the occasional Bowstun meathead popping out of the woodwork, or Matt Damon being predictably snide on Letterman.
Simply put, rooting for the Red Sox is the worst thing I’ve ever done. That is, aside from the time I killed that baby and drank it’s blood. But vaguely pulling for the BoSox was a close second.
No, it’s nothing like that. Shit, the Ravens didn’t even exist until the 1996. I was almost 30 years old. by the time Baltimore stole the Browns and moved into Pittsburgh’s division. So yeah, while I hate the Ravens plenty, it’s not like rooting for the goddamn Red Sox.
I actually hope the entire city of Boston dies. Of pneumonic plague. There’s three kinds of plague. That’s the coughy one.
But it is hard to root for the Ravens. And I’m gonna do it anyway. You should too. Here’s why.
Jim Harbaugh is a Dick- I really can’t bring myself to root for any team coached by this frat boy jackoff. You can’t spend three minutes staring at this spoiled bully brat and not think the term “date rape” wasn’t coined for him. Someone should cut his nuts off and then give him the ole Clockwork Orange treatment. Eye drops and all.
For All Their Faults, the Ravens are Real- I’ve got plenty of reasons to hate the Ravens, but it’s not because they’re anything like, say, the Dallas Cowboys. I mean, they’re not a bunch of pussies who think they’re entitled to anything, or prima donas laboring under the delusion that everyone loves them. The Ravens reflect Baltimore: salty and down to earthy, lunch pail in hand, and chip on shoulder. They play good, tough, physical football, and they call it like they see it. Here, for example, is linebacker Terrell Suggs calling Bill Bilichick an “arrogant prick” after last week’s upset win in New England.
Baltimore Has Become My Home- I’ll never ever root against the Steelers. Nor will I root for the Ravens 99% of the time. But I’ve been in Baltimore for nearly a dozen years now.
During that time I’ve come to look rather fondly upon Baltimore. This dirty, beaten up old harbor town, with its rat infested alleys, its syphilis epidemic, its depressed economy, and its triple-threat drug markets: crack, heroin, and meth.
Baltimore is the ugly stepchild of the northeast corridor, I-95’s version of fly-over, or this case, drive-through country. Just a tunnel and a toll on your way to New York or Philadelphia or Washington, D.C.
And everyone here knows it. Nobody ever puts on any airs or pretends Baltimore is something it ain’t. The people are humble, yet proud. Ornery, yet warm. Modest oddballs of the Chesapeake.
And boy do they want this. It’s a football town, they love this team, and they really want this.
Whereas far too many San Franciscans are too hip to give a shit.
Look, if it were against any other team in the NFC at this point, I’d say no way. Hell with it. Let the bastards suffer.
But they’re playing San Fran. I still have 49er fatigue leftover from the Montana-Young era. And now it’s Harbaugh, that raging, grunting, chio and polo-wearing jawbox who deserves to be locked in a baboon den at the zoo.
So this time, and maybe this time only, when it comes to football I’m standing with these people, these marble-mouthed, oyster-poppin’ Ravens fans.
The water taxi’s about to set sail. Get on board.
West Coast Craig’s the captain of this here ship come tomorrow. My final MtM article, including a Super Bowl recap, next week.