Letter From a Baltimore Jail

Abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison spend a period of time in a Baltimore jail, placed there by those who wished to silence his prolific pen and convicted soul. His voice echoed to the hills, redounding to the plains, striking a chord of freedom that would ring throughout the land.

Garrison was unequivocal in his view and conviction concerning human freedom. While my subject is of no importance by comparison, my earnestness is real.

I am aware that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or to speak, or write, with moderation... I am in earnest -- I will not equivocate -- I will not excuse -- I will not retreat a single inch --
AND I WILL BE HEARD.

This is an open letter to the city of Baltimore and all Baltimore Ravens fans. I write this from jail myself, a jail you may feel yourself in as well. Not a jail made with human hands and temporal steel, but a jail of the mind, a jail where weariness is the guard and exhaustion the binding lock.

Simply put, in this place, I am tired.

I am tired of watching a team lose year after year, virtually every big game it plays against an elite opponent. In ten years, it has beaten New England, Pittsburgh, and Indianapolis a total of one time in the playoffs. It has never beaten Indianapolis or Pittsburgh in a playoff game. Never.

I am tired of hearing players on this team crow about their talent and complain about not getting the ball, then watching them disappear or fail in crucial situations. It's interesting that they are strangely silent at those times, only to rise again to arrogantly champion their greatness when the games mean nothing and the lights are dim.

I am tired of being told by the coaches and front office about how wonderful it is to 'play like a Raven.' That legacy would mean a lot more and that nom de guerre would have greater meaning behind it if playing like a Raven included the ability to play big in big games. When you come up small in such instances again and again, the moniker loses it's luster and the talk becomes incredibly cheap.

I am tired of listening to team leaders scream, 'no retreat, no surrender' in pregame rants and dances that glorify words and honor self, then watch as the team they are leading retreat and surrender time and time again in the face of a little adversity. When placed in the crucible of championship pressure, the best teams are forged into steel and their resolve becomes unbending, while the Raven's metal melts away time and time again into the teary dross of defeat.

I am tired of fans who are satisfied with being good, but not great, with wins, but not championships, with words, but not actions. So many say, 'don't be so hard on them, don't be so negative'; instead, 'see the glass half full, not half empty.' My response is, 'No matter how you look at it, the glass is lacking in fullness is it not? I say, 'FILL IT to the brim and unto overflowing and drink from the chalice of ultimate victory!' Isn't that, after all, why you play the game?

To be satisfied with incompleteness is to be satisfied with losing, with unfulfilled potential, and that I will never happily accept. If only the team felt the same way.

I am tired of watching this team lose big games, not because of a lack of skill, but because of a lack of will, a lack of perseverance, a lack of determination to succeed. It has learned to accept, and expect losing these games, and so they do, when it means the most. Yesterday, this team, when faced with it's first real adversity, folded like a cheap tent and played, up by fourteen points, afraid, as if it were behind. It's opponent, on the other hand, again played, down by fourteen points, knowing it could be, and soon would be, ahead. And so it was.

The ability to make plays that matter flows from a will and a belief that one can. The champion sees his future destiny before him as if it is already past, then acts in the present to fulfill the dream and realize the glory.

I am tired, finally, of a team that has had multiple opportunities to realize great moments and embrace them and wrap them in victory. United States 1980 Olympic Hockey Coach Herb Brooks addressed his team before the epic contest against the vaunted, virtually unbeatable Russian machine by telling his men, 'Great moments are born of great opportunity, and that's what you have here tonight...Now go out and take it.' And so they did.

How very sad that this team has had numerous opportunities to grasp great moments and let them slip through their fingers and rest in the hands of another.

There is, paradoxically, a slim yet vast difference between victory and defeat, between greatness and mediocrity. That difference is bridged with will, determination, and heart and, once achieved, the chasm created between victor and vanquished is enormous, revealing for all to see on which side one dwells.

Baltimore currently resides on the side where the sun sets on the hopes of a town and it's team. To be sure, it can see the sunrise and the glory, but sadly, it is always just over the horizon and out of it's reach...

Of that, I am truly tired. Aren't you?