HouseofUsher
01-11-2007, 11:34 AM
It’s funny but I think I fell for the Colts after they left town. Like a detective with a hard on for a dead girl he never laid eyes on, I followed the epic, unfolding horror conscientiously. It haunts me a little still.
I had just moved into Baltimore, after nibbling around its edges for years, and was in complete awe of the size of the emotion seizing this odd, odd city I wanted so badly to know. The glacial hopelessness of its grief. The vastness of its undeserved inferiority. It felt like one man had brought down an entire civilization. Outsiders couldn’t understand; only an outsider could understand.
I remember driving through Indianapolis on a family trip out West when I was a kid. Just a hot, dusty town sitting stupidly on the plains. Look at the speedway, get some gas, keep moving. Yes, now they have the Colts, the colors, the horseshoe. But that’s it. No matter what anyone says in either city, history stayed right here on March 29, 1984. They never got that. Everything that ever mattered with the Colts, happened right here. And nothing has happened since. All the color, the feeling, stayed right here. Even the marching band. All they got were some empty uniforms. They never even really got the Colts. You can see they know it in their empty eyes, hear it in their hollow cheers. Perhaps they are to be pitied, too.
Anyone who cares about sports knows how fleeting the moment of glory is: but defeat, defeat lasts forever. The only things that are real are the memories.
Maybe if we beat them on Saturday, we’ll both be released.
I had just moved into Baltimore, after nibbling around its edges for years, and was in complete awe of the size of the emotion seizing this odd, odd city I wanted so badly to know. The glacial hopelessness of its grief. The vastness of its undeserved inferiority. It felt like one man had brought down an entire civilization. Outsiders couldn’t understand; only an outsider could understand.
I remember driving through Indianapolis on a family trip out West when I was a kid. Just a hot, dusty town sitting stupidly on the plains. Look at the speedway, get some gas, keep moving. Yes, now they have the Colts, the colors, the horseshoe. But that’s it. No matter what anyone says in either city, history stayed right here on March 29, 1984. They never got that. Everything that ever mattered with the Colts, happened right here. And nothing has happened since. All the color, the feeling, stayed right here. Even the marching band. All they got were some empty uniforms. They never even really got the Colts. You can see they know it in their empty eyes, hear it in their hollow cheers. Perhaps they are to be pitied, too.
Anyone who cares about sports knows how fleeting the moment of glory is: but defeat, defeat lasts forever. The only things that are real are the memories.
Maybe if we beat them on Saturday, we’ll both be released.