On the first day of training camp for the 2000 season at McDaniel College, Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis stood away from his teammates near the 50-yard line. Wearing football pants and half a shirt, he was an incredible specimen, his body sculptured and chiseled.
It would have been hard to find any other person God created to have as much muscle spread out on a 260-pound frame. Lewis had been involved in a double murder trial in Atlanta months earlier in which he pleaded guilty to obstruction of justice, but now everything seemed so far behind him.
“I’ve been reading what you guys wrote about me, not you,” said Lewis, when I approached him. Lewis never looked at me, just started straight ahead. “And now, they will see. They will see.”
A couple of months later, Lewis was named the NFL Defensive Player of the Year and Most Valuable Player of Super Bowl XXXV as the Ravens defeated the New York Giants, 34-7. In that season, Lewis was the best football player in the world, but he wasn’t the toughest player on that team.
It’s been 20 years since the Ravens won that game with a defense that was perhaps the best in NFL history. The key to success was both their mental and physical toughness. In other words, in old school vernacular, the Ravens had a bunch of “tough-tailed men” on the roster.
They were a collection of veterans still in search of a championship in the twilight of their careers, such as defensive tackles Sam Adams and Tony Siragusa, defensive ends Rob Burnett and Michael McCrary, wide receiver Qadry Ismail and fullback Sam Gash. They had experienced players who had won Super Bowl titles in safety Rod Woodson, tight end Shannon Sharpe and offensive tackle Harry Swayne.
But the nucleus was a group approaching its prime, including linebackers Jamie Sharper, Peter Boulware and Lewis, offensive linemen Jonathan Ogden and Edwin Mulitalo, wide receiver Jermaine Lewis, cornerbacks Chris McAlister and Duane Starks and safety Kim Herring. The Ravens also had one of the game’s best kickers in Matt Stover.
As far as coaching, Marvin Lewis, then a young coordinator, brought a major change to the defense, and coach Brian Billick was a great organizer and communicator who had become the face of the organization.
Team leaders?
Many thought it was Ray Lewis, but the front four on defense kept everyone under control. Boulware, Lewis and Sharper were still young and finding their voices, but the linemen were experienced veterans who could physically dominate on or off the field. Siragusa was the big run stopper and McCrary was an outstanding pass rusher. Adams had the explosive first step and could defend the run as well as the pass.
Burnett, though, was the quiet assassin. He kept the law and order and did it with few words.
On offense, Sharpe was the leader. His best days on the field were behind him, but maybe only one player in NFL history, Minnesota Vikings defensive tackle John Randle, talked more trash then Sharpe. He gave the Ravens offense personality and confidence. He liked talking trash because he had the defense to back him up.
So, he didn’t mind calling Pittsburgh Steelers wide receiver Plaxico Burress “Plexiglass” or brag that if the Ravens scored at least 10 points, the game was over. He turned out to be right because the Ravens allowed only 10.3 points a game and posted four shutouts during the regular season and allowed an average of 5.75 points in four playoff games.
No one could run against Baltimore because Boulware, Sharper and Ray Lewis formed one of the best trios ever. Lewis spent the entire season causing a lot of sleepless nights for running backs such as Pittsburgh’s Jerome Bettis, the Cincinnati Bengals’ Corey Dillon and the Tennessee Titans’ Eddie George.
The person who put this defense together was Marvin Lewis. When the Ravens first moved to Baltimore in 1996, they played that old “read and react” style under former Browns coach Bill Belichick in Cleveland. Some of the old Belichick boys, such as safeties Eric Turner and Stevon Moore, both leaders, wanted to revolt.
But Lewis stayed with the philosophy he taught in Pittsburgh with the Steelers. After general manager Ozzie Newsome selected Starks (1998) and McAlister (1999) in the first round of their respective drafts, 2000 was the year it all came together. The Ravens were already able to generate consistent pressure up front with Adams, Burnett and McCrary, so Lewis could blitz and bring more pressure without fear of giving up big plays on the back end.
Finding the right formula on offense wasn’t as easy.
Quarterback Tony Banks was just one of several rejects Billick had brought through Baltimore since 1999, including Scott Mitchell and Stoney Case. The Ravens wanted a more wide-open attack under Banks, but eventually went to Trent Dilfer as the starter once Billick realized that it was better to use the legs of rookie running back Jamal Lewis and Stover than rely Dilfer’s arm.
Dilfer’s clock management style was the perfect complement to the defense and Lewis’ running ability. But within two weeks of beating the Giants, Dilfer learned that he was being replaced by Elvis Grbac, a move that he is still bitter about 20 years later.
But there were stories about how bad Dilfer was in practice and how Billick once had to ask defensive players not to intercept his passes so the offense could work on timing.
It was a good move by the organization to upgrade the passing game. If the Ravens hadn’t lost both Lewis and right tackle Leon Searcy to season-ending injuries in the 2001 training camp, the Ravens might have played in a second straight Super Bowl. Plus, after leaving Baltimore, it wasn’t as if Dilfer lit it up for the next six years with stops in Seattle, Cleveland and San Francisco.
Few teams can or ever will win a title the way the Ravens did in 2000. As one looks back, Billick was the right coach at the right time for the Ravens. The previous coach, the late Ted Marchibroda, was a stop-gap for a team handicapped by money problems. Billick gave the Ravens credibility. His face was plastered on billboards throughout the city when the Ravens hired him after the 1999 season.
A great communicator, Billick could work a room filled with top corporate executives like a politician. He was bold in telling the media they weren’t qualified and wouldn’t be allowed to put Lewis on trial during Super Bowl week when the team first arrived in Tampa, Florida. Billick could talk as much trash as the players, and that was clearly evident during the postseason, especially in the divisional-round win against Tennessee.
In retrospect, the Ravens’ Super Bowl victory over the Giants was a microcosm of the season. Stover kicked field goals of 34 and 49 yards and Lewis rushed 27 times for 102 yards. The offense made just enough big plays, with Ismail hauling in a 44-yard pass and fellow receiver Brandon Stokley catching a 38-yard touchdown pass. The Ravens sacked Giants quarterback Kerry Collins four times and forced four interceptions, including a 49-yard touchdown return by Starks.
After the game, there was a lot of celebrating in the locker room, but it all settled down when Billick presented the owner, the late Art Modell, with the championship trophy.
Modell thanked his front office staff, his coaches and players as he started to cry.
And for once that season, a tough team didn’t have be so tough anymore.
They had brought an NFL title back to Baltimore.