After Sunday’s game, I have a newfound respect for Ravens safety Ed Reed.
Lost in much of the retirement talk surrounding his teammate and future Hall of Fame brethren Ray Lewis, Sunday was quite possibly the last time Ravens fans will see Reed play at M&T Bank Stadium in a Ravens uniform. While Reed said on 105.7 the Fan’s Glenn Younes show last week that he has no immediate plans to retire, Ravens fans know that Reed is notorious for having a tune that changes as frequently as the tides. Whether or not he plays in the NFL next year, his $7 million per season price tag isn’t likely to decrease, making him far too expensive for the Ravens, who are right up against the salary cap.
After the Cincinnati Bengals lost to the Houston Texans on Sunday, the possibility of the Ravens hosting the AFC Championship game in Baltimore was eliminated, but the fact was solidified that Lewis’ last home game would be the following day.
As the pre-game ceremonies began, fans cut tailgating short and went in earlier than usual. Not many purple seats remained unoccipued to see the moment everyone was waiting for – Lewis’ final dance.
Simply put, the moment was perfect. It was something fans have witnessed almost 100 times, but to me, one of the most impressive parts of the celebration of Lewis’ career during pre game introductions was the humble act by Reed.
When Reed is introduced, he slowly emerges from the fog, his number 20 begins to appear and then plays to the crowd for their approval as 70,000+ echo his last name in unison. Sometimes, he just sprints, sometimes he flaps his arms around mimicking a Raven, but Reed’s potential final emergence was one of his best ever.
As Reed appeared, he turned to to his teammates, and pointed at them and the camera filming the introductions on the Smart Vision boards. He drew his index finger to his lips in an attempt to silence the crowd, turned and pointed to a wall of fog, where, as could be seen on the video boards, Ray crouched on his hands and knees praying on the floor.
What Lewis did next was historical and sent chills through the spines of those in attendance and watching on TV around the world.
In the long run, Reed’s actions will probably be forgotten as people reflect on the memories of Lewis’ last dance. However, Reed’s actions were a stark display of humility and displayed zero of the selfishness one might expect from a superstar future Hall of Fame player potentially being introduced to his home crowd for the final time.
The bond between Reed and Lewis started before Reed’s entrance into the NFL in 2002, as fellow University of Miami alumni, which is a brotherhood in itself. Reed’s act just added to what will go down as one of the lasting memories of Baltimore sports lore.
Is anyone shocked that Reed was unselfish?
Throughout his entire career, it seems like I’ve been yelling at him to stop lateralling the ball to his teammates.
Reed has always proven he’s a giver on the football field, and Sunday was the ultimate reminder.
