Another disaster, just 6 days after the Pittsburgh debacle. And we fans in attendance at M&T Bank Stadium wasted no time voicing our displeasure with the offense – again.
The boos started early and often in the first half when it became evident that a clearly gun-shy Steve McNair was struggling once again with the same clueless game plan. The dissatisfaction built to a crescendo by half time. I leave it to my fellow columnists to dissect the X’s and O’s of the loss; I’ll concentrate on two non-football aspects of what happened on Sunday – the booing and the mass exodus in the 4th quarter.
Nobody likes booing…not most fans and certainly not the players. Well, maybe those disaffected leather lungs who got a jump start on their drinking, waiting for the 4 PM start. Booing the players is counterproductive, because they’re the last ones who want to under perform. They want to win. Giving anything less than your best effort is usually the best way to earn your way to the waiver wire.
Remember “Next Man Up?â€
I’d like to think that many, like me, would instead boo the game planning, the play calling, and overall ineptness of the offense. I directed my catcalls directly to Billick as the Ravens left the field at half time.
But a lot of fans took their frustration out on the players, Steve McNair in particular. It had to hurt. He came to Baltimore knowing this was his last, best chance to return to the Super Bowl.
Has Steve regressed? You bet.
He’s not the player he was last year and is a shadow of his glory days in Tennessee. Let’s face it – the Titans let him go for a reason. If the Titans brain trust thought for a minute that he had anything left in the tank they never would have let him walk. After all, what better mentor could a Vince Young have than Steve McNair?
I clearly remember how the crowd cheered a few years ago when Kyle Boller went out with an injury in a Colts game. I was embarrassed for Boller and for the city as that display of rudeness was telecast across the nation.
One of the local morning radio hosts stated Monday that the booing and the mass exodus were disrespectful to the fine job the defense did, playing without two starting corners and safety dealing with concussion after effects. I admit the defense did a great job, given that I had to continually look at my program to see who was playing in the back field, and that the defense was repeatedly given a short field to work with for the second straight week.
I don’t think the booing was disrespecting the defense at all.
When the d-backs came out for pre-game warm ups and I saw no Rolle, no McAlister, and (at that point) no Reed, I thought “Bombs Away for Palmer!†And who was that guy running around with the number 44 jersey? Willie Gaston? Huh? At several points during the game he was covering Chris Henry or Chad Johnson one-on-one. Heck, the game easily could have easily been 49-7.
I haven’t seen an early, mass exodus like Sunday since 1998 when Mark Brunell and the Jaguars had the Ravens buried by the end of the first half. I stayed until it got to 18-0, and then I started my long walk to the Light Rail. There was no way the Ravens would make up 21 points in 11 minutes. Not in 11 quarters for that matter. My good sense was confirmed when I heard on my radio that the Ravens had coughed it up again and it was now 21-0. I’m glad I left when I did and I make no excuses for it. Why should anybody stay to watch the end of that mess and then have to deal with a 45 minute wait on the southern-bound Light Rail platform? I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Play better and I’ll stay longer.
Last week I was mad. This week I’m disappointed and tired as the boasts of a Super Bowl run evaporate in a sea of fumbles, picks, inept offensive play calling, and injuries. Realistically, I can see only one more win left this season – at Miami.
You can bet NBC will swing that Sunday night Colts game on December 9th back to the afternoon. And I won’t have to worry about the Ravens denting my Christmas wallet for playoff tickets, either.
Who will pay for all this? I think we know the answer.
It’s just a matter of when.
Brian, you’re on the clock.
Photo by Sabina Moran
