Those Moments in Time

In many ways, our lives are largely made up of “I remember where I was when” moments.

Most people would admit that they remember their exact location when those key, life-changing moments happened.

The moment they found out they would become a grandparent. The moment their favorite celebrity passed away.

Without question, we run through this life with very identifiable markers that are generally paired with the memory of “where we were” when those things happened. It’s normal — and for most people, those memories are filled with pivotal, life-changing items.

As I watched the Ravens dismantle the Texans in the second half of this Saturday’s divisional round game, this concept came to my mind in, admittedly, a bit of a strange way. At 25 years old, I realize that many of my “I remember when” moments are quite sports-centric. And as a lifelong Ravens fan, they are even more Baltimore football-centric.

But through that strange way of thinking, it made me understand just a bit more about why this thing we call fandom is really one of God’s greatest gifts to those of us who wish to savor the precious moments we are given here on this earth.

Thanks to Ravens football, my “moments” are lifelong and full of great joy.

On January 20, 2013, I remember where I was when the Ravens defeated the New England Patriots in the AFC Championship Game. And while I remember the perfectly-executed Joe Flacco touchdown passes up the seam in the red zone (weren’t they just perfect?) — I more so remember the “where” and “who”.

On that day, I spent the evening with my grandmother in the small basement of her Harford County home that I had spent over a dozen years prior watching Ravens games and building my Baltimore sports passion inside of those very walls.

I remember sitting on her red shag carpet while stressing over whether the Ravens would execute their next third-down stop.

I remember stress-eating Utz potato chips that she served in one of the many straw baskets that lined the wall leading down her basement steps, ones she walked time and time again to deliver food to me and my dad as we watched the Ravens together.

Yes, I remember the AFC Championship win, but I also remember those baskets, that carpet, and time spent with my family.

On April 26, 2018, I remember where I was when the Ravens drafted Lamar Jackson, unofficially ushering in the new era of Baltimore football right before our eyes. And while I remember — as we all do — Lamar’s post-draft interview and his words spoken to the city of Baltimore, I again remember the “where” and the “who”.

On that day, I sat in my college house in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in just my second semester away from home and still trying to find my way in the world. In Chapel Hill, what kept me connected to “home” was — perhaps unsurprisingly — my love for the Ravens.

I remember sitting on the dilapidated couch with my two roommates (who, to this day are my two best friends) and watching that first round unfold. We argued about Lamar Jackson’s future in the league over a box of mediocre delivery pizza and lukewarm oven-baked wings from the freezer section of Walmart.

I remember the optimism I had regarding Lamar’s success in Baltimore, as well as the fact that I had yet to study for the next day’s end-of-semester ethics exam. Instead, I was spending the evening betting my best friend — under the dimly-lit LED overhead light that screamed “college boy house” — that Lamar would win an MVP within the first five years of his time in the NFL.

(And yes, Dante, I am still waiting to collect on that bet.)

Are you starting to sense a trend here?

There are plenty of other obscure Ravens memories that I can pull out of thin air.

I remember Steven Hauschka missing a 44-yard field goal against the Vikings in 2008 to drop a mid-October game.

I remember sitting in M&T Bank Stadium in December of 2014 and watching the Ravens clinch an AFC playoff spot courtesy of a win over the Browns and some help from the Chiefs halfway across the country.

I remember them all.

But more importantly, I remember the “where” and the “who”.

I have watched countless games with the family and friends who make this life so great.

Over time, I have learned that being a Ravens fan has less to do with the results on the field and more to do with the memories created along the way.

Does that sound cliche? Good. It should. Cliches are there for a reason — they ring true.

The moments are what make being a sports fanatic so great.

So as I sit this Sunday with my grandfather — a man I have bonded my entire life with over our love for Ravens football — I will remember the other fun stops along the way.

I’ll remember Granny’s red shag carpet that probably still has traces of potato chips and chicken soup from our years of watching Ravens and Orioles games together.

I’ll remember memories with my dad walking “Ravens Walk” and being in pure awe of the vastness of an NFL stadium.

And most importantly, I’ll try to make even more memories as this postseason moves along.

Every step of the way — through childhood, college and now young adult life — my “moments” have been marked by my love of the Ravens.

I hope that in 2044, I can tell my children about where I was when John Harbaugh hoisted the Lombardi Trophy over his head in February of 2024.

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