We had promoted the event all week, in hopes that a fair-sized crowd would be coming to Tampa for the festivities, even if they couldn’t land a ticket to the game. We wanted to give the Ravens’ fans a place to watch the game if they didn’t get in to Raymond James Stadium.
I arrived around 8:30, to find that more than 100 people had already found their way into the restaurant. With WJZ-TV’s Marty Bass already working the crowd during a live broadcast back home, we had the logs on the fire and were ready to go.
We had advertised an 11 a.m. start – we knew they couldn’t even start serving alcohol until 1 p.m. because of a state liquor law on Sunday – but by that time there were more than 1,000 people in or around the bar and the parking lot became as congested as the streets of Tampa the previous night.
All told, more than 3,000 people stopped by Whiskey Joe’s on game day, perhaps the largest non-Baltimore gathering of Ravens fans in history.
It was truly a party for the ages.
“Festivus Maximus” shirts littered the place.
People shouting the now familiar chant of Ray Lewis and the defense:
“What time is it?”
Game time!
“Any dogs in the house?”
Woof, woof, woof, woof!
It was a celebratory sea of purple that could never be duplicated.
The sad part for me came when I had to leave the party. I was one of the few fortunate souls who had a ticket to the game.
If there was ever any doubt as to the interest of Baltimore’s NFL fans for tickets to the big game, coupled with the heavy demand of the New York contingent, Super Bowl XXXV ended up being the single-most expensive ticket in American sports history. By game time, scalpers were paying more than $3,000 for the worst seats in the stadium to complete orders for their customers. Most Baltimoreans who made the trip to Tampa were shut out.
The story of the game is well documented.
Recounting what you saw and have stored on videotape would be useless here. If you care enough to have read this far into the book, chances are you saw the game.
Suffice to say, the Ravens did what they had done all year – played lethal defense, opportunistic offense and made a few big plays that led to a 34-7 rout of the New York Giants.
Giants quarterback Kerry Collins was baited into mistakes on many occasions, and the score could have been a lot worse than it was.
Brandon Stokley caught the first touchdown pass of the game, beating cornerback Jason Sehorn down the middle of the field for a 38-yard strike from Trent Dilfer. Stokley had actually been nursing a horrible flu bug all week, and I had told him at the media tent on Thursday that he needed to rest because he was catching a touchdown pass on Sunday.
Matt Stover added a 47-yard field goal early in the second quarter and the Ravens led 10-0 at the half.
After a wild halftime show featuring Aeromsith, ’N Sync and Britney Spears, the Ravens came back amidst the lingering fog after the rock concert, and immediately jumped Collins. Starks stepped in front of a pass intended for Amani Toomer and returned the ball 49 yards for a touchdown to put the Ravens ahead, 17-0.
On the ensuing kickoff, speedy Ron Dixon went 97 yards in a flash to put the Giants on the scoreboard and give them momentary hope. It didn’t last for 10 seconds on the game clock. On Brad Daluiso’s kickoff on the following the Dixon touchdown return, Jermaine Lewis punched back, taking the ball 84 yards into the end zone to give the Ravens a 17-point advantage again, 24-7.
Point, counterpoint. Punch, counterpunch. There would be no denying the Ravens.
They would add a 3-yard touchdown run from Jamal Lewis in the fourth quarter and Stover would convert a 34-yard field goal, after Robert Bailey recovered a Dixon fumble at the 34-yard line, to complete the scoring.
The statistical breakdown of the game is sloppy. The game featured 21 punts, including 10 by the Ravens’ Kyle Richardson, who easily could have been named the game’s MVP. Time and again, he pinned the Giants deep into their own territory, forcing Collins to gamble, especially once they got behind.
Dilfer contributed his usual effort – nothing special, just another win – completing 12 of 25 passes for 153 yards. Jamal Lewis carried the ball 27 times for 102 yards.
There was very little drama for the fans of the Ravens because they had seen it before. It was the same game they had played since training camp. Make a few defensive plays, create turnovers, score a few points, hand the ball to Jamal Lewis and wind down the clock.
Perhaps the most impressive fact about the Ravens run to the Lombardi Trophy, and the relative ease with which they pulled it off, was the level of competition they were playing. Each of the four teams they defeated in the postseason had been involved in dominating, if not shutout, wins in their previous game.
Denver had defeated San Francisco, 38-9.
Tennessee had embarrassed Dallas, 31-0, on Christmas night.
Oakland eliminated Miami, 27-0.
And, now the New York Giants, who had destroyed the Minnesota Vikings, 41-0, in the NFC Championship Game, were about to be euthanized.
As the clock got close to expiring, I thought about the greater meaning of it all. I thought about my Mom watching the game at home, how crazy the fans would go in Baltimore, the memories that I’d have for a lifetime.
I also thought a lot about my Dad and how I didn’t have him to enjoy the big game with. If only this could have happened before 1992, so I could have enjoyed it with him, I thought.
I took heart, however, in watching so many others enjoy it with someone special in their life.
The best story of the father-son bonding that I saw in Tampa was that of Director of College Scouting Phil Savage, who had his dad, Phil Sr., with him every step of the way.
Big Sav and Little Sav became their names to all who came in contact with them and saw their glow during the “Festivus” season.
It began with a handshake at the Jacksonville game early in the season, when Little Sav brought his Dad over to North Florida from his home in Alabama for the game against the Jaguars. After a handshake from David Modell, the Ravens finally won in The Swamp.
Big Sav reappeared in Baltimore in December for the “Festivus” clincher against San Diego, when Modell, who is notoriously and ridiculously superstitious, had to shake his hand again for good luck, and then gave him a pat on the shoulder, touching what would become the “secret weapon.”
The “secret weapon” wound up being the big overcoat with the fur collar that Phil Sr. was wearing to stave off the northern cold.
When the playoffs began, Phil Sr. made the trip into Baltimore for the Denver game, and this time, Modell, who insisted that the jacket be at the game, shook Big Sav’s hand, gave him a pat on the back and a little hug for “extra playoff luck.” Again, a victory!
The following week, Nashville was just a short drive away, so Big Sav brought the “secret weapon” along, and the Ravens pulled off the biggest and most dramatic win during their run to the Super Bowl.
After the game at Adelphia Colisuem, Art Modell ran into the Savages in the tunnel leading to the Ravens’ clubhouse and insisted that Big Sav be in attendance for the AFC Championship Game. Two days later, at Big Sav’s home in Mobile, Ala., a plane ticket arrived with his name on it.
“I called my Dad and he couldn’t believe it,” Little Sav said. “He really thought that Mr. Modell was kidding in Nashville. Once the plane ticket arrived, he had to go. I told him, ‘Old man, they are going to carry you out in a stretcher out in Oakland rooting for the Ravens.’ ”
The jacket, Big Sav and the Ravens survived the elements in California. At this point, David Modell was actively seeking out Big Sav prior to kickoff to touch him and his fur jacket for good luck.
By the time Big Sav and Little Sav got to Tampa for Super Bowl XXXV, they appeared attached at the hip. You couldn’t see one without seeing the other. It was a heartwarming story for everyone in the organization, mainly because Little Sav is a popular guy, and so respected for his draft acumen. Everyone knew his story.
What they didn’t know was the story of his incredibly gregarious father.
Phil Savage Sr. was a two-time All-State football player in his own right in Alabama in the mid 1950s. A pulling guard at Murphy High, he developed a mysterious cramping problem and couldn’t continue playing football. Despite having a series of back surgeries and having a titanium rod in his back – it caused Big Sav a lot of pain to be flying around the country during January – he simply told his son, “I’m a piece of meat. Just deliver me on time for the game.”
So, here at the Super Bowl, were these two self-described “country bumpkins,” sitting on the 50-yard line of the biggest game of them all, replete with a stake in the game and the “special weapon” – the fur jacket.
And then, the Ravens won in a waltz.
“I can’t put into words how emotional it was,” Little Sav would later tell me. “Since the eighth grade, I’ve spent every day of my life thinking and working and talking football – that’s 29 football seasons – and here I was in Tampa at the Super Bowl, on the field with me and my Dad holding the Lombardi Trophy with the confetti flying all over the place. It was something I’ll never forget.”
