Next Man Up

by John Feinstein

  Most professional athletes aren’t even registered to vote. Those who are almost always vote Republican. The most rabid Democrat on the Ravens was backup linebacker Bart Scott, who spent a lot of time in the locker room trying (to no avail) to convince some of his teammates that voting based strictly on who would tax you less was a mistake. He was shouted down most of the time, especially by those who somehow saw not supporting Bush as not supporting the troops overseas.

  Billick supported Bush, partly because of taxes but also because of an interesting theory he had developed about the war in Iraq: “We need Bush in there to get us out of Iraq,” he said. “He got us in, he’s the best person to get us out.”

  Kevin Byrne liked to say that this was undoubtedly the kind of thinking that had caused Billick to vote for Jesse Ventura, the wrestling star, when he ran for governor of Minnesota. To his credit, Billick encouraged his players to vote—and did not try to tell them whom to vote for.

  Most of the players weren’t listening to any of the speeches given by either Bush or Kerry that week, but they were listening to speeches. Billick gave his on Wednesday morning.

  “This is the kind of game where you can make an impression in a big-time way,” he said. “You don’t do it by beating Buffalo last week and, let’s face it, you don’t do it by beating Cleveland next week, even though it’s important to win those games. This is the game you do it in.

  “Gary Baxter, you want a big-time contract, this is the game to prove you deserve it; Mike Nolan, you want a head coaching job—this is the game people will notice; Gary Zauner, you want to walk in and demand to be paid like John Harbaugh [the Eagles special teams coach who made $350,000 a year], show me you deserve it in this game. You guys who think you’re Pro Bowlers—this is the game to prove it.”

  Unlike a lot of coaches, Billick has no problem with the notion of singling certain games out as special. He has never taken the approach that “this game is our biggest of the season because it’s the next one on the schedule.” Beating the Eagles would be a bigger deal than beating the Bills or the Redskins or the Bengals. Beating Pittsburgh was turning out to be more important than they had realized—although any win over the Steelers was significant—but knocking off a 6-0 team on the road would reestablish the Ravens as one of the league’s elite teams.

  Ray Lewis felt some of that. He also felt as if the team wasn’t as close-knit six games into the season as it should be. Even putting aside the Nolan blowup, he wanted to make certain there wasn’t any finger-pointing from defense to offense or within the team at all. He talked to Ed Reed about some of his concerns on Thursday night and then went to Billick on Friday before practice to ask if he could speak to the team after practice. The question was really rhetorical: when Lewis wanted to talk to the team, he knew he pretty much had carte blanche to go ahead and talk. But he always asked Billick first, if for no other reason than to make sure he didn’t catch him off-guard.

  Practice on Friday was indoors—the weather was miserable again. When it was over, Lewis asked everyone to stay on the field for an extra minute. Whenever Lewis speaks to the team, his voice is considerably different than in the locker room when he is getting himself into game mode. The intensity is still there and so is the emotion, but his voice is soft, sometimes soft enough that those not standing or sitting close to him have to lean forward to hear him.

  “We have a chance to do something special this week,” he said. “This is our time to start making a real mark, to let people know how good we are. But if we are going to do that, we have to do it together. We cannot succeed as individuals, we can only succeed together. We need to be looking forward now, not back. What’s happened up until now is over, it’s gone. There’s no reason to think about it or worry about it. There’s nothing we can do about what was good or about what was bad. It’s over. We’re about today, tomorrow, and what comes after that. We can’t be talking amongst ourselves about lacking offense or not making plays or not making calls. The defense needs the offense, the offense needs the defense, and we all need the special teams. This kind of chance doesn’t come around very often. Let’s take advantage of it. Let’s do something special. Let’s do it together.”

  They all listened intently when Lewis spoke. Perhaps it is all those Sunday mornings in church, but he sounds almost like a southern preacher when he talks to the team. There isn’t usually any screaming or yelling or wringing of hands or calling for help from the heavens—that comes on Sundays in the locker room. But there is a sense that he is a true believer talking to other true believers. When it comes to Lewis’s leadership, there is no doubt that the Ravens are true believers.

  One of Lewis’s flock was missing as he spoke. Outside, in the rain, Jamal Lewis worked out on his own. He would watch the game on TV on Sunday. He would be back with the team on Monday.

  Halloween morning in Philadelphia was extremely warm and bright, the rain swept away. The square that surrounds City Hall was alive with people early, many of them already decked out in Eagles jerseys. The entire town appeared to be green and white. One couple stood in front of the plaque commemorating the fact that Mother’s Day had been invented in Philadelphia in 1908. He wore a number 5 jersey (McNabb); she wore 81 (T.O.). At the stadium, it would appear from the sidelines as if half the crowd of 67,715 was similarly dressed.

  It felt more like September than the last day of October. The game-time temperature was 73 degrees, and it felt warmer in the sunshine on the field. In the locker room Ray Lewis was directing his pregame message at one person: Kyle Boller. “This is your day,” he screamed at Boller. “These people are in for a major surprise. Your day. Remember that.” He clapped Boller on the shoulder pads. Boller stared back at him blankly, not sure how to respond.

  The toughest thing about playing in Philadelphia as the road team might be waiting for the endless pregame introductions. First there’s the Eagles fight song. Then, of course, the theme from Rocky has to be played. Then come the fireworks (yes, in the daytime). And finally, the PA announcer stretches the name of each Eagle out for what feels like about a minute.

  When the game finally kicked off, the Ravens got off to a brutal beginning. Trying to make something happen right away, the offense came out with Deion Sanders lined up as a receiver on the first play from scrimmage. Using Sanders as a decoy, Boller tried to throw deep to Travis Taylor, hoping to mimic the start the Eagles had gotten on the same field in August. It didn’t work. Cornerback Lito Sheppard read the play all the way and broke it up. Two plays later Jevon Kearse beat Orlando Brown cleanly, sacked Boller, and caused a fumble. Fortunately, Brown was there to jump on the ball for a 7-yard loss.

  Zastudil punted to the Eagles’ 42, but Musa Smith was called for a personal foul on the play, setting the Eagles up on the Ravens’ 43. On the Eagles’ second play, McNabb tried to throw deep to Owens. Ed Reed rolled back in coverage to help Chris McAlister and intercepted the ball. But the official saw McAlister turn away from the ball, trying to fight Owens for it, and called him for interference. Instead of a turnover, the Eagles got the ball on the Ravens’ 4-yard line. That made one sack, one fumble, and 54 yards in penalties with the game less than two minutes old. The defense stopped them there, though, and forced the Eagles to settle for a field goal, a major moral victory at that moment.

  The Ravens pieced together an eleven-play drive midway through the quarter that ended with Stover kicking a 44-yard field goal that tied the game. The Eagles appeared ready to take the lead back when they drove to the Ravens’ 5-yard line with a first-and-goal. But McNabb was hit hard by Ed Hartwell as he tried to cross the goal line and he fumbled. Will Demps jumped on the ball at the 1, averting the threat. The Eagles did take a 6-3 lead a few minutes later on a 41-yard field goal by David Akers but a three-point deficit at halftime didn’t seem so bad. In most games, the Eagles had blown the opponent off the field in the first half. Mike Nolan had talked to the defense about withstanding their early attempts to make big plays and blow the ga
me open. They had done that.

  Boller had been efficient in the short passing game (14-of-17), and the defense had stopped McNabb on several key plays. Billick was animated at halftime. The game was being played the way it needed to be for his team to have a chance. “This is a big-time football game, guys,” he said. “Let’s keep it at our speed and our tempo.” Nolan reminded the defense not to worry if the Eagles made a play. “We’ll make the next one,” he said. “Just don’t catch yourself lingering after the play. Get back up and get ready for the next one.”

  The third quarter was a punting contest until the Eagles took over with 2:19 left at their own 16 and, as Nolan had known they would eventually, made a couple of plays. McNabb found Owens for 24 yards to the 40. Then he hit Chad Lewis for 10 yards and was helped out by another personal foul on the Ravens, this one on Maake Kemoeatu. McNabb then scrambled 13 yards for another first down, at the Ravens’ 22. Again the defense—not lingering—dug in and forced an Akers field goal. It was 9-3 with a quarter to play.

  The offense had been moving the ball all day but stalling when it got near scoring range. This time it moved quickly from the Baltimore 20 to a first down at the Eagles’ 39 on a pretty Boller-to-Travis Taylor pass, good for 21 yards. But on first down, Chester Taylor, trying to push forward for an extra yard or two, fumbled. The Eagles recovered and the stadium, which had been nervous all day while the Ravens continued to hang around, got very loud.

  It got louder. McNabb found Owens. Then he hit tight end L. J. Smith for 17 yards over the middle, a play Nolan had been concerned about all week because the defense had to pay so much attention to the outside receivers. It looked as if the Ravens would hold the Eagles to yet another field goal—which would still give them a two-score lead—when McNabb threw two incomplete passes from the 11. But on third down McNabb threw a short slant over the middle to Owens. He made the catch, dodged Baxter, twisted to the outside, and ducked past Reed into the end zone for a killing touchdown. The place went crazy. It went even crazier seconds later when Owens began to dance. End zone dances are a dime a dozen in the NFL, but this wasn’t just any dance. This was an on-the-money, step-for-step imitation of the dance Ray Lewis does when he is introduced in Baltimore. Clearly Owens had studied tape of Lewis in preparation for this moment, and he carried it off perfectly.

  Not everyone in the stadium knew what he was doing, but the Ravens did. Even without the music of Nelly, they knew exactly what they were seeing. They were not happy about it. They were also not happy to be down 15-3 (the Eagles went for two and failed) with 9:12 left in the game. Boller and the offense gamely came back and drove 72 yards, the key play coming on a leaping catch by Clarence Moore, good for 52 yards. Boller found Dan Wilcox for the touchdown from seven yards out, and with 5:52 still left, they were back in the game again, down 15-10. Perhaps Owens’s dance had been a bit premature. The game clearly wasn’t over.

  The Ravens had two more chances. The defense held the Eagles to three-and-out, and the offense, starting from the 19, picked up one first down before stalling. Billick elected to punt with 2:01 left, hoping to use his time-outs—and the two-minute warning—to get the ball back in decent field position one last time. The strategy worked. The defense held, and the Ravens got the ball back at the 29 with 1:34 left. This was Boller’s chance to be a hero back in Baltimore. This was the chance to do something special that they had talked about all week. On the sideline, Ray Lewis knelt on one knee, propping himself up with his helmet, and screamed at Boller: “Come on, cowboy, grow up right now! This is the time. Grow up, son! Be a star right now!”

  Boller certainly tried. On first down he found Travis Taylor streaking across the middle for 23 yards into Eagles’ territory at the 48. Quickly, he spiked the ball to stop the clock with 1:18 to go. A nervous rumble went through the stands. On second down Boller’s pass to Chester Taylor was tipped. Third-and-10. He tried to force a pass into Kevin Johnson. It was broken up. Fourth down. Last chance. Boller dropped, scrambled to avoid pressure, and found Travis Taylor open inside the 30. The pass, thrown on the run, wasn’t perfect, just a tad behind Taylor. But it was a catchable ball, the kind of pass a team’s best wide receiver should make—has to make. Taylor had it, bobbled it, and dropped it as he was hit. If he had held on, they would have been on the Eagles’ 25 with a minute still left. That certainly was a long way from the end zone, but the game would have appeared eminently winnable.

  Now it was over. McNabb knelt twice to run out the clock. The camera crews made a beeline for Owens as soon as the clock hit zero. So did Corey Fuller. “You need to grow up, T.O.,” he screamed. “Act like a man when you make a play. Your act is low-rent.”

  Actually his act was very high paying, and right now it was a huge success. The Eagles were 7-0. The Ravens were 4-3. Lewis wasn’t going to be drawn into a verbal war with Owens. “If we didn’t let him get in the end zone,” he said, “he wouldn’t have had the chance to do the dance.”

  Billick wasn’t really concerned about T.O.’s dance. In fact, he was a lot more concerned about the two missed tackles on the play that had led to the touchdown. He was drained. Before speaking to the team, he made a point of shaking hands with Boller and telling him how proud he was of the way he had played. In the end, Boller hadn’t pulled the game out, but in many ways he had grown up. He had completed 24 of 38 passes, many of them while running for his life. His only interception had come at the end of the first half on a Hail Mary into the end zone. He had put the ball where Taylor should have been able to catch it on the last drive.

  “I feel like we just lost a playoff game,” Billick told the team, his voice hoarse from yelling over the crowd most of the day. “If that’s one of the best teams in the NFL—and I think it is—then we are, too. We came in here without some key people and we had a hell of a chance to win that game. Maybe we’ll see them again. I hope that we do.”

  With good reason. The only way to see them again would be in Jacksonville on February 6. That was the day of the Super Bowl.

  20

  Second Chance

  ALTHOUGH THERE WAS A LOT TO FEEL GOOD ABOUT as the Ravens boarded their chartered train for the trip home to Baltimore, it didn’t change the fact that they were now 4-3. What’s more, when they got home they learned that the Steelers had ended the Patriots’ winning streak with a 34-20 victory. That meant the Steelers were 6-1 and had a two-game lead in the division race. The season would be halfway over in a week. The Browns were coming to Baltimore for a rematch of opening day. A loss to the Eagles was disappointing but understandable. A second loss to the Browns would be an unmitigated disaster.

  Billick was concerned that there might be an emotional letdown during the week because they had put so much into the Eagles game. He had planned to remind the players after practice on Wednesday that the loss to Cleveland counted just as much in the standings as the loss to Philadelphia, but the team practiced so well that he decided he didn’t need to say anything. “Historically, we’ve played well at home after playing poorly against a team on the road,” he said. “I was afraid there might be some hangover after Philadelphia, but there wasn’t.”

  For the third time in five games, the Ravens were playing at night. The game was an ESPN Sunday night game, a rare chance for a team like the Browns to play on national TV. The game would also mark Jamal Lewis’s return to the lineup. Chester Taylor had played well in his absence, but with Lewis back, Billick and Matt Cavanaugh were hoping—even with Ogden still out—to pound the ball more and pass the ball less. No one was looking forward to that more than Lewis, who had been unhappy with the way the first Cleveland game had evolved and was, needless to say, eager to get back on the field and show people that his three-week break had not affected him.

  “Watching on TV just about killed me,” he said. “I knew I could have helped if I had been there.”

  Lewis had missed the start of the Buffalo game the week before because he had been in Atlanta and had failed to realize that a game
between Baltimore and Buffalo wasn’t likely to be televised there. “I never even thought about it,” he said, laughing. “I turned on the TV at one o’clock and our game wasn’t on. I never got the satellite package down there because I’m not there during the season, so why do I need it? I had to call a friend who had the satellite and go over to his house and watch.”

  He might have been better off not watching the Eagles game. Now he was back on the practice field and happy to be there. The news on the other two injured offensive stars—Jonathan Ogden and Todd Heap—wasn’t as good. Heap had now missed five games and still wasn’t close to being ready to play. The local radio shows were filled with callers who wanted to know why it was taking so long for a sprained ankle to heal. Heap was just as frustrated as the callers. “I can’t believe it’s taking this long,” he said. “When it first happened and they said it wasn’t broken, I was relieved. Now the doctors are telling me I might have been back faster if it had just been a clean break.” Ogden had known the minute he got hurt that he would be out for at least two weeks. He had set the game in New York against the Jets on November 14 as his target date to return. Watching practice on Wednesday, he shook his head when the possibility of playing against the Jets came up. “I still can’t touch my toes with my left hand,” he said. “Every time I try to do it, the leg grabs up on me. I don’t see it happening.”

  Ethan Brooks had played well against the Eagles, holding his own for most of the afternoon. There were other questions on the offensive line, though, especially on the right side. Orlando Brown, who had been riding an emotional roller coaster since July, had played that way: up and down. He had broken a finger early in the Buffalo game and had struggled all day, then had a predictably tough time in Philadelphia against the Eagles All-Pro Jevon Kearse. Bennie Anderson, who lined up next to him at right guard, was also having difficulty. Mike Flynn was finally ready to be activated, but with Casey Rabach playing so well at center and Anderson struggling, the plan was to get Flynn snaps at Anderson’s spot.