Linebacker Ray Lewis was named the MVP of Super Bowl XXXV, as much a make-good for all of the abuse he had taken over the previous 52 weeks more than for his standout effort. It wasn’t that Lewis didn’t deserve the game’s highest honor, but of the 82 games he had played as a Raven, his efforts in Tampa that night probably weren’t even in the Top 30 of games he’s had in the past. He played a typically strong Ray Lewis game, knocking down several passes and making an amazing pursuit and tackle of Tiki Barber early in the game, but someone had to take the individual honor for what was clearly a team effort. It might as well be Lewis, who was undeniably the leader of the pack.
While Lewis was the MVP, it was quarterback Trent Dilfer who received the invitation to Disney World. While Lewis was the MVP, it was Qadry Ismail, Michael McCrary, Shannon Sharpe, Jonathan Ogden and XXXX, who got their faces on the Wheaties box.
Lewis would have a Super Bowl ring and an MVP trophy, but respect off of the field from the public, specifically the business community, would have to wait.
At the conclusion of the game, tears of joy streamed down the faces of many wearing purple at Raymond James Stadium. Everyone connected to the team has a story of a special moment that night.
For many, that special moment included at least a quick thought about owner Art Modell and his triumph
“For a lot of us, it was about winning for Art,” defensive end Rob Burnett said. “Art put his balls on the line to win. He hurt himself personally for that opportunity. He made sacrifices. What I wish people outside of football could see is Art’s humanity. He has stood by so many players. Suspensions, trials, you name it. And he never wavers. He’s there for you. He’s a wonderful human being and he runs a first-class organization. It’s been a privilege and pleasure to say that I’ve played my whole football career for Art Modell.”
For Baltimore, it was an eternal civic memory.
For Art Modell, it was restitution for all of the pain and agony of the past.
As Art and David Modell were led down onto the field for the ceremonial presentation of the Lombardi Trophy, the younger Modell turned the corner on the field to see a man in a suit holding a royal blue bag with the Tiffany’s logo on the outside.
David knew what was in the bag.
“It didn’t even hit me until that moment,” he now says. “The (Lombardi) Trophy was in that bag and that was the reward. We would always have that Trophy.”
Modell said he saw the bag, turned the corner to go up the short stairway, looked up and there it was.
The Lombardi Trophy was sitting in front of commissioner Paul Tagliabue.
“I don’t even know how it got there so quickly,” Modell said. “It was sort of magically out there. I’ll never know how it got from the bag up onto the dais so quickly. The whole thing is such a tough recollection for me.”
The Lombardi Trophy would become a civic in-joke around Baltimore for the next few weeks, as David Modell was spotted everywhere with it. Some called it an appendage. Some called it his “constant companion.” Some said his hands were attached to it, others said he slept with it. He talked openly, prior to winning it, of sleeping with it.
“Why wouldn’t I be attached to it?” he says with a big smile. “Wouldn’t you be? I’m just a normal guy with a severely abnormal job.”
For weeks, it didn’t leave David Modell’s presence. “I had to let Tony (Siragusa) take it to a parade in New Jersey and it was like letting my kid go to camp.”
In his defense, Modell has allowed anyone who wants to hold the Trophy a chance. He flatly refuses to shine or clean the Trophy. Ever.
“That thing has the fingerprints of every person who has touched it since the minute it was handed over to the organization still on it,” Modell said. “I think it’s symbolic. The reaction that people have when they see the Trophy is so amazing, so pure and innocent. People just want to touch it and hold it. I think Tiffany’s is going insane with what I’ve done with it. It was because of the people that we have this, so here – touch it, hold it, take your picture with it. It is here for everyone to enjoy!”
Everyone who contributed to the championship made sacrifices, some larger than others. There are two names that have been conspicuously missing throughout the pages of this book, two members of the 2000 Ravens who played on a near-championship team in New England in 1996, but didn’t get to taste victory: Ben Coates and Sam Gash.
Gash, a fullback, caught one measly touchdown pass in a 44-7 rout over Cleveland and his name doesn’t show up much in the Monday morning box score, but he was extremely significant and selfless in his role as the blocking back for Jamal Lewis, especially late in games, after Obafemi Ayanbadejo went down with a foot injury in early October.
Coates made the ultimate sacrifice. An all-decade tight end, he had other choices during the summer when selecting a team. He chose Baltimore for one reason: he thought the defense was good enough to win a Super Bowl.
“There’s a guy who played for the league minimum and knew he wasn’t going to have a leading role with Shannon (Sharpe) here,” Burnett said. “He knew he was going to be a supporting act. He had a lot of choices, especially for the money he played for. He could have gone anywhere and he came to Baltimore. To me, that says a lot.”
As the confetti flew from the sky at Raymond James Stadium, Billick sought out one player who held special significance to him. Wide receiver Qadry Ismail, who was drafted by the Minnesota Vikings in 1993, while Billick was still the tight ends coach there, had been through it all. Benched, called a role player, subjected to special teams duty, traded to Green Bay, traded to Miami, released and signed by New Orleans and released again, Ismail was a well-traveled, if not always respected, veteran. He joined the Ravens before the 1999 season with no promises, and wound up being a major contributor and weapon in an offense that often had too few.
“We pulled Qadry off of the trash heap of the NFL and he took advantage of his opportunity here,” Billick said. “I always talk with him about our wilderness trek, about how we started together and had now come full circle. Now, we had won a championship together.”
For many, the post-game celebration still needs to be viewed on videotape to be fully appreciated.
“When you’re walking around down on the field and the fireworks are going off and there’s confetti flying all over the place and the smoke it’s like a dream,” said Burnett. “It’s kind of like you’re walking around in a daze. I got really emotional. When you dream about it, you don’t get emotional but when I was down there I did. You’re just kind of floating around. I can’t even explain how satisfying it is.”
Burnett summed it up best when he walked across the field to Siragusa, his best friend on the team, who was holding his beautiful daughter Samantha.
“Goose, if I have a heart attack in my sleep tonight,” Burnett said, “I’ll have a smile in my casket. We did the impossible!”
