Bruce Raffel

Bruce Raffel holds up his Matt Stover (left) and Kyle Boller bobbleheads while posing in his basement, which has purple carpeting and yellow walls as a tribute to the Ravens. (Sun photo by Lloyd Fox / November 19, 2007)

The thoughts tug at Bruce Raffel's mind and tumble his guts.

Yet another Sunday night passes with little comfortable sleep. And as he tries to shift his mind to work on Monday, he just can't let go of the previous day's happenings.

What if he had been able to tell Brian Billick to run on third-and-short instead of calling another fruitless pass? Might the Ravens have held on instead of crashing to another dispiriting loss?

If you're wondering, Raffel doesn't work for the Ravens or any other NFL team. He's not a scout. He never played football above the recreational league level. At age 49, he has spent most of his working life making sure that elderly people have comfortable beds and healthy meals.

But on Sundays, and really every day because his passion can't be contained easily, Bruce Raffel is a football fan.

That sounds simple, like saying your buddy plays the standing bass or your grandmother collects porcelain dolls. But it's not.

As it does to many Americans, football has crawled inside Raffel and lodged itself as something more than a hobby and slightly less than an obsession.

Why does the game so possess this trim, friendly father of three, who runs two assisted-living homes and says he "loves to take care of old people"?

Football, Raffel says, offers a unique chance to be immature and mature at the same time. On Sundays, he gets to dress in purple camouflage pants and bellow in common purpose with 70,000 other nuts at M&T Bank Stadium. But as he runs through the games in his mind, he gets to apply critical thinking skills built up over a lifetime.

Of course, that part of it can get a little out of hand. After the Ravens' sloppy Monday night loss in Cincinnati to open the season, Raffel said he had to pace up and down his driveway just to burn off the frustrated energy.

For road games, he doesn't like a big crowd in the house because "I want to dissect every bit of it, talk to the TV, yell.

"Sometimes, it's best for me to be alone," he surmises.

For the past few years, Raffel has unleashed his daily football musings on, a Google blog that gets a few thousand hits a week. He loves that people care about his opinions and believes that many of his pronouncements are prescient.

"Brian Billick would do very well to read my blog," he says.

As a manifestation of his inner love for football, Raffel has transformed his basement into a very outward tribute to the Ravens. From the tree-lined driveway to the basketball hoop outside to the barking dogs at the door, Raffel's Reisterstown home screams stereotypical suburbia ... until he opens the door to the lower level and reveals the first glimpse of plush purple carpeting and bright yellow walls.

The color scheme persists throughout the basement, and Raffel's attention to detail is astounding. From the life-size cutout of Ray Lewis bursting from one wall to the Ravens' light-switch covers to the purple-clad Santa statue on top of the television, this super fan has every angle covered.

Some objects have odd stories. There's the nesting doll of Vinny Testaverde, ordered special from Russia through a shop in Juneau, Alaska. There's the light-up Ravens sign, which Raffel won on eBay for 99 cents only to pay $29.99 to have it shipped from China.

"I just always try to have an eye out," he says.

If you're thinking his family members must be horrified by the decor, they're not.