This past Saturday marked the fifth anniversary of the Ravens Super Bowl XXXV victory at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa.  The date triggers emotion and memories for all Ravens’ fans – a day that will go down as an unforgettable one in Baltimore folklore.

I recall a conversation that I shared with a friend during the summer leading into the 2000 season.  We agreed that the two of us would trek down to Tampa for the Super Bowl without regard for the participants for no other reason than a desire to witness the grandest stage in all of professional sports.  Little did we know that our fortunes would take a dramatic turn north when our very own Ravens rode the shoulders of a once in a lifetime defense to a NFL title.

Fresh off an 8-8 season, no one expected so much from the Ravens.  There’s nothing more exhilarating than achieving something that seems out of reach – to extend well beyond expectations.  There’s an enormous sense of accomplishment when that happens and as a result one could argue that no matter what the Ravens accomplish from this point forward, they will never again match the sheer joy of Super Bowl XXXV.

The victory wasn’t just one for the team, Brian Billick, Art Modell or the organization.  It was one for an entire community scarred by the departure of the Colts and the repeated rejections by the NFL.  From the time Bob Irsay and his cronies high-tailed it out of town on a snowy night in March of 1984 right up to the arrival of the Ravens in 1996, Baltimore played the role of the jilted lover.

The city attempted to land an expansion franchise in 1993 but lost out to Carolina and Jacksonville.  Paul Tagliabue suggested that instead of investing in the NFL, perhaps Baltimore should build a museum – an ill advised quip that our city will always tag on Tagliabue.

The night before that historical evening of January 28, 2001, I happened to be in the Ravens team hotel.  I bumped into Billy Davis who I had met on several previous occasions and asked him how he felt.  I’ll never forget Davis’ response – a player who was a repeat Super Bowl winner as a member of the Dallas Cowboys.  Davis said, “I’ve been here before and I have never been part of a team this well prepared to win.”

The look in Davis’ eyes was that of sheer confidence and determination.  These weren’t just words but rather a statement of conviction and will – a will that the team collectively exerted upon the seemingly defenseless New York Giants.

After the game, Ravens fans both old and very new basked in a communal glow of purple as celebratory confetti tumbled from the sky.  The moment seemed to stand still in time – a freeze frame of life interrupted by the words of then Ravens owner Art Modell as he stood at the podium with the vilified Tagliabue: “This is for the people of Baltimore City, Baltimore County and the State of Maryland.”

On that night, Baltimore received its official validation.  We were back in the NFL and back in a very big way.  No longer was there a feeling of the jilted lover; no longer did Tagliabue’s silly little statement rip at your soul; no longer did the Colts’ clandestine exodus seem as painful. 

We were World Champions and Silver Betty was coming home to Baltimore!

Upon leaving the stadium I felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment.  Yet while I would never have traded my first hand experience in Tampa that weekend, I immediately wanted to be home.  I wanted to be part of my community.  I wanted to be with all of my friends and family and dance with them through the streets of Baltimore.  In a sudden and strange way, I was homesick.

Little did we know on that glorious night that the Ravens over the course of the next five seasons would win only one playoff game and appear in only three.  The Ravens have struggled offensively ever since and they’ve attempted to mitigate their offensive ineptitude by employing the team’s winning formula in 2000: Great defense, protect the football, control the clock, win the battle of field position.

Theoretically the formula seemed sound.  Practically it didn’t work!  The margin of error was too great when the execution wasn’t there.

Since Super Bowl XXXV, some have openly wondered if it might be better to have the sustained success of the Pittsburgh Steelers than the flash in the pan brilliance of the 2000 season.  In Bill Cowher’s 14 campaigns along the Steelers’ sidelines, his teams have reached the AFC Championship Game 6 times yet so far, they’ve failed in their attempts to get that one for the thumb. 

Would you Baltimore, trade that 2000 season for regular albeit incomplete trips to the post season dance?

How fast can you say “No way!”?

Super Bowl XXXV wasn’t any ordinary Super Bowl for Baltimore.  It was a red letter day.  The next Super Bowl victory should it ever come, will pale in comparison because XXXV, holds a very special place in our collective heart.  Some have suggested that winning XXXV might be the worst thing that happened to the Ravens’ franchise since it arguably created a sense of complacency.  While in some small way that may be true, it could be argued that Super Bowl XXXV was a greater accomplishment for a scarred city than any of the Baltimore Colts championships.

For Baltimore, Super Bowl XXXV truly was Festivus Maximus.