THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, September 1, 1996 TAG: 9609010241
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ED MILLER, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: BALTIMORE LENGTH: 129 lines
On what was to have been the first full day of practice for the Baltimore Ravens, a tornado touched about 10 miles from the team's training complex in Westminster. It destroyed seven homes, and lightning from the storm sent players and coaches scurrying from the practice field before they could run their first drill.
Meteorologists said the storm had its genesis in a mass of angry air that had been swirling over Cleveland, Ohio. The system rolled southeast, gathering strength over the football country of Western Pennsylvania. It dumped disapproval - and buckets of rain - on the unsuspecting Ravens.
Really? No. Actually, it was just one of those freak weather things. But if ill will could beget ill winds, Cleveland has enough to produce a hurricane.
Cleveland, of course, had its beloved Browns ripped from its arms by owner Art Modell. He will likely never be forgiven.
The team was gussied up with a new name, logo and colors, and sold to Baltimore fans.
And boy, are they buying.
Fifty thousand season tickets in the first 15 days. Nearly 57,000 season tickets overall. The team's first exhibition drew 63,804, a stadium record. Today's season opener against Oakland is sold out.
Modell is a Baltimore hero, part of the emotional zero-sum game the city is playing with Cleveland. Cleveland's anger is Baltimore's elation. Cleveland's betrayal is Baltimore's gratitude.
Cleveland's silent. Baltimore's buzzing.
``Everybody I talk to is talking about the Ravens,'' said Jack Cockeril, a Baltimore man who was attending a Ravens practice last month.
You can bet they are not talking about the guilt they feel taking another city's team. This is sports in the 1990s.
Some fans say they would have preferred an expansion team. They're sorry for Cleveland. But, as Floyd Sample, a burly security guard working the Ravens camp put it: ``It's a business.''
Sample said his biggest concern was that in the daily crush of autograph seekers, ``some Cleveland fan'' would try to harm Modell, who rode around the practice field in a golf cart.
But guilt? Not here, where Robert Irsay moved the Baltimore Colts to Indianapolis on a snowy night, March 28, 1984.
Maybe some irony. But not guilt.
At least Cleveland has been promised an expansion team, fans said. Baltimore was left hanging.
``Where was the outcry when our team left?'' said 34-year-old Tony Butta of Baltimore.
There was an outcry, but after it died down, there were 12 years of quiet desperation.
``Your Jones is kicking for 12 years, you're thirsty for just about anything,'' said T. Elliott Sr., a federal police officer from Glen Burnie, Md., who walked to Colts games in the early 1970s.
``Bubba Smith was my favorite,'' he said while watching a Ravens practice. ``Man, he was quick. Kill, Bubba, kill!''
When the Colts split, some turned to the Washington Redskins. Recently, a few embraced the Baltimore Stallions, the Canadian Football League team that played at Memorial Stadium for two years.
But no more.
``I'm burning all my Redskins stuff,'' said 30-year-old Steven Lipka of Rosedale, Md., who was tailgating before a preseason game. ``I'm going to have a bonfire right here, before the first game.''
He probably will. If the first exhibition game is an indication, Ravens fans are nothing like the quiche-eaters who populate Oriole Park at Camden Yards.
Stadium officials told them they couldn't tailgate. Couldn't drink, cook, eat in the parking lot.
They ignored them.
``When they sold us those $1,500 tickets, they didn't tell us all that nonsense,'' said Angel Barlow of Glen Burnie, who was grilling sausages in the back of a pick-up truck before the exhibition opener.
Alex Bell, 56, and Joe Mikos, 53, a pair of teachers from Bel Air, Md., started going to Colts games in the 1950s, where they saw greats like Unitas, Berry, Donovan and Moore.
They called it fitting that the Ravens will play two years in Memorial before moving to a new stadium downtown in 1998.
``The people that come to this are going to make this city come alive again,'' Bell said at the Ravens preseason opener. ``I've been to Camden Yards four times and I've never seen anyone I knew. Standing here on the concourse I've seen all kinds of old friends.
``And look, there's the mayor.''
Sure enough, Baltimore Mayor Kurt Schmoke strolled by, shaking hands, including Mikos' and Bell's.
``This city's coming alive,'' Mikos said.
Schmoke obviously knows how to make political hay, but in a popularity contest, he'd be hard-pressed to beat Modell.
``This has been a significant compensation for the trauma of leaving Cleveland,'' Modell said from his golf cart. ``For both the Modell family, my associates, and all my players.''
Not surprisingly, Modell has his own spin on what happened in Cleveland.
``If they want to find culprits in Cleveland, they ought to look at the political structure, which is where the fault lies.''
Modell said he felt left out in a city that has recently built a new baseball stadium and a new basketball arena, while his team played in ancient Cleveland Stadium.
Not only will Modell get a new stadium, he has sold working-class Baltimore on that latest sports trend, the Personal Seat License. PSLs, as they are known, require fans to pay hundreds, often thousands, of dollars not for season tickets but for the right to buy season tickets.
PSL prices in Baltimore range from $500 to $3,000. The average PSL price is $1,028. Season ticket prices range from $170 to $750.
``It's the PSL that kills you, but after you pay that off, you're OK,'' said Bill Cochran, 28, of East Baltimore. ``If they didn't make it where you can pay in three installments, I couldn't afford it.''
Cochran, a production supervisor for a fireplace company, could afford to buy only one season ticket. So he and three friends bought a block of four. They'll take turns taking their friends and family to the games.
``I hope to move up in a couple of years, and get two seats of my own,'' he said.
Cochran was leaning on a fence at the Ravens' training camp. Modell rolled by in his golf cart.
``That's the man I want to meet,'' Cochran said. ``I just want to say, `Thank you.' '' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
CANDICE C. CUSIC/The Virginian-Pilot
Johnelle Trout leads her section in the ``Wave'' at Memorial Stadium
during a Ravens exhibition game against Philadelphia. Baltimore's
hosts Oakland today in its regular season opener.
Photo
CANDICE C. CUSIC/The Virginian-Pilot
Ravens were everywhere before Baltimore's preseason game against
Philadelphia, even in the parking lot. Hamid Qayyum of Baltimore
shows off his wings during a tailgate party. by CNB