THB, Banditos, Wayward and more confirmed for Cosmic Cocktail!

Backing Baltimore's newest bird

THE BALTIMORE SUN

Oh, we know your type, mister. You spent all day at the office yesterday yakking about the Ravens' thrilling last-minute win over Jacksonville this weekend, hopping from cubicle to cubicle with a steaming mug of Maxwell House to offer your own unique perspective on the big game.

You went on and on about this Ravens team: about what a killer defense we have, about what a cool customer quarterback Tony Banks is and what great hands Shannon Sharpe has, about how Brian Billick is the logical successor to Vince Lombardi and how this is our year, you can feel it and blah, blah, blah.

The Ravens have played a grand total of two games this season. But, fueled by a heady mixture of civic pride, sleep deprivation and Bud Light, you have them going to the Super Bowl already.

Whoa, big guy!

Time to take a deep breath and slow down the purple-and-black bandwagon just a bit.

Here are some other signs that you've officially - and shamelessly - climbed aboard the Ravens' bandwagon:

You went to Dick's or Wal-Mart or Target after the game and bought your first purple Ravens jersey. (Buddy, with all due respect, you look like Peter Boulware the way George Wendt looks like Billy Dee Williams.)

When someone points out that Mike Mussina picked up his 14th loss the other day, you reply: "The Orioles are still playing?"

You now go around correcting how others pronounce the name of fullback Obafemi Ayanbadejo. As if suddenly you're some kind of African linguist.

You are seriously considering naming your first male child "Priest."

When the sports guy on the 11 o'clock news leads off with O's highlights, you scream: "What about Duane Stark's hamstring pull?"

Whereas you used to complain about the expense of taking your family to a Ravens game, you now view $200 for four seats, $20 for parking and $80 for food and drinks as "eminently reasonable."

"Hell," you say, "look what they charge you to go to Europe these days."

You view this season's Domino's promotion - $1 off every large pizza for every touchdown the Ravens score - as the most magnanimous gesture by the business community since free polio vaccines.

You've taken to complaining to your cable TV provider about why there are no "classic Ravens games" on the ESPN Classic channel.

You regard the team's pre-game Jumbotron clip - where a flock of fierce-looking cartoon ravens appears to fly into the stadium, their intimidating cries of "Caw! Caw! Caw!" reverberating everywhere - as the greatest battle scene since "Star Wars."

In a heated discussion about the old Colts at a cocktail party, you were actually overheard snorting: "Unitas?! Give me a break! Unitas couldn't carry Tony Banks' jock."

When your friends remark that Peter Angelos appears to be stonewalling on a new contract for Cal Ripken, you reply: "The Orioles are still playing?"

Like someone waiting to pull the wings off a butterfly, you have Oct. 15 circled over and over in red Magic Marker on your calendar. That, of course, is the day the Ravens are scheduled to play the Redskins. And already you're envisioning a Baltimore win and a series of cruel, gloating phone calls to all your Washington pals.

You are seriously considering naming your second-born male child "Qadry."

When your colleagues at the office debate whether mercurial outfielder Albert Belle should return next season, you reply: "The Orioles are still playing?"

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