Yesterday morning, a morning which finally permitted the possibility of dreaming for all who desire the return of the National Football League to Baltimore, Peter Angelos sat in his law office here and held up a cautionary hand.
Yes, he said, he is definitely onto something in his bid to buy the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. But, no, he said, the deal is not done. And, no, he added, even if Tampa Bay people agree to a deal, it doesn't mean the sale includes Baltimore.
"Without question," Angelos said firmly, "we're the front-runner. We will be the highest bidder. But buying the team's only half the game. We don't know what kind of fight the NFL might put up to keep them from moving. At this point, making the deal is not the tough part."
The last sentence gives pause when attached to the $200 million Angelos has been waving about, and when it comes at the end of a decade of no Baltimore Colts and a cold shoulder from National Football League officials who should have some sense of history and heart but apparently misplaced both.
Paul Tagliabue, the NFL commissioner and nobody's hero around here, might try to stand in the way of Baltimore football even if Angelos buys himself a team. He doesn't like Baltimore, for multiple reasons having nothing to do with the greater glories of his league but plenty to do with personal conflicts.
For one thing, he knows the barrage of criticism he caught after the NFL snubbed Baltimore as an expansion city, and he resents it. For another, he resides in Jack Kent Cooke's back pocket. And Cooke wants all football money in Maryland strictly for himself.
Angelos, speaking increasingly cautiously as the possibility of a deal with Tampa Bay looms more clearly, won't comment about Tagliabue. In the past, he's made it clear that he thinks all legal obstacles could be overcome.
It's been learned, though, that Angelos has met with Tagliabue twice in recent weeks. Angelos, who doesn't have much interest in purchasing a team that couldn't play in Baltimore, would like to smooth any potential legal disputes. And Tagliabue would like Angelos to wait a while, hoping Tampa Bay will finally get its act together.
In two decades of existence, the Buccaneers have never found much artistic or financial success. But now in Tampa Bay, there are frantic plans for a more profitable stadium -- that is, one with sky boxes and other big-ticket items -- and corporate efforts to vTC guarantee season-ticket sales, as a good-faith bid to keep the team where it is.
If those Tampa Bay efforts fail, it raises some new questions, including:
Would Tagliabue admit the financial prospects are far brighter in Baltimore than in Tampa Bay, and finally discard any efforts to block a move here?
Would he continue to dance to Jack Kent Cooke's tune?
Cooke, owner of the Washington Redskins, still has dreams of moving to Laurel and cornering the market on all Maryland money for skyboxes and such, and also for TV revenue. Citizens of Laurel have mixed feelings about such a move. The outgoing and the incoming governors of Maryland both want the Redskins to stay out of Laurel.
And Peter Angelos, meeting today with his attorneys, George Stamas and Russell Smouse as they try to piece together the various aspects of this negotiation, tries to focus strictly on his dealing with the Tampa Bay people.
"Tampa Bay has an outmoded stadium, and not much fan support," he said. "They can't make a deal work at $200 million. And it's not just that we're heroic and civic-minded on behalf of Baltimore. Give credit to the governor" -- he means William Donald Schaefer -- "who got us the stadium deal. That's what makes the finances work for us."
Public funding for a $165 million stadium here has been approved by the General Assembly.
"Teams that come to Baltimore could walk away with million-dollar paydays," Angelos said. "They're going into Tampa Bay and coming out with a third of that."
In case anyone's keeping score, this Sunday will be 35 years since the only NFL championship game ever played here -- Colts 31, Giants 16, in 1959. Baltimore's still a long way from another football championship. But, for a town that's sustained itself strictly on memories over the last decade, the Angelos negotiations are at least a chance to dream of better days to come.