your team.
This is the city of Kyle Boller. And Art Schlichter. And many quarterbacks not named Johnny Unitas.
Hey, Joe – you were the real phucking McCoy! The real, modern day Johnny U who went about your business and your life the right way. You brought us a parade after playing flawlessly in the biggest games of the year. You made us proud!
My personal memories of our many hours of chats over the years are my lasting gifts as a lifer journalist who covered your Baltimore journey.
When you asked me on the stadium ramp after the parade if it was bigger than the first Super Bowl. When you called me from a spring vacation with a bunch of teammates when my wife was in bed fighting for her life. When you came out and did charity events and told stories and always provided me with honest, meaningful answers about football stuff and why things happened the way they did in games. The times you were the last one in the locker room tying your shoes and answering some random question from me and Luke about something bigger picture with the offense.
The baseball chats. Our mutual love of sports and competition and history. Watching you fawn over your kids and family. I had a unique view of your world, especially when I wrote Purple Reign 2 and learned the difference between Audobon and Haddonfield, New Jersey.
I hope you go win a Super Bowl and play four good years in Denver and then come back home to back up Carson Wentz for a few years in Philly. You’d class the joint up a bit from across the river in Jersey.
You’ll be back in Baltimore for reunions and Super Bowl appreciations. You’ll get your name on the façade of the purple palace.
Time will not dim the glory of your deeds.
I will never again argue your “eliteness.” Your Super Bowl ring speaks for itself. And if it doesn’t, just go Jersey and transfer it to your middle finger.
You’ll always be a hero here, to me.
I will just say you’re the best I’ve seen around here and the best we’re gonna see for a long time. Baltimore was lucky to have you. The Ravens were lucky to find you and build a championship team around you. And the Broncos are lucky to have you.
Hopefully, like you said, they’re dragging you outta the building in Denver a long time from now.
Gratitude for all of the memories, laughs, completed passes and good times.
You’re a good man, Joe Flacco!
I remember back when you were young, the week before you went to Denver for the first time. You didn’t know about the 80,000 rabid orange maniacs about to shit down your neck every time you threw a bad pass – or even a good one that hit the turf. I had to break the news to you about the best cheer in sports!
I, too, love that you’ll be on the other sideline after years of hearing that three-syllable taunt in purple during the big wins and dreadful losses to Peyton Manning at Mile High Stadium.
But when you hear it, just know that it’s my Baltimore ghost letting you know that your career is still very much:
IN-COM-PLETE
Go f**k ’em up in Denver, bro…
Cheers,
Nestor
P.S. Get a sitter and take Dana to Snooze AM and order the pineapple upside down pancakes. And tell your kids to not take gummy bears from strangers!
