Ten years ago, the Ravens won a Super Bowl. Thirty years before that, the Baltimore Colts did the same.
Now, as the city celebrates milestone anniversaries of two world championships, players from both teams marvel at the stark differences between their Super Bowl experiences and the spectacle that will take place Sunday night.
Super Bowl XLV, they say, has grown to size XXL, from the enormity of the players to the girth of their championship rings, and from skyrocketing ticket prices to the cost of TV commercials.
"When we played (in 1971), the sun didn't rise and set on the Super Bowl," said Bob Vogel, 69, the Colts' All-Pro offensive tackle. "Now it's a central part of American culture."
Even the past decade has produced significant change, players said.
"I don't recall media coverage being this exhaustive 10 years ago," said Trent Dilfer, 38, the Ravens' Super Bowl quarterback who now works for ESPN. "We have an army of analysts to talk about every single element of the game. It's very much like a presidential election, with all of the hype and spin."
Few have seen the game morph more than Bill Curry, the Colts' Pro Bowl center who played in Super Bowl I (with the Green Bay Packers) and in Super Bowls III and V, with Baltimore.
"We (players) were made to feel larger than life, but that has increased exponentially," said Curry, 68. "Now, the Super Bowl is a full-fledged bacchanalia. It's sad. The game is almost a sidelight."
In 1967, tickets for the first NFL-AFL championship game, as it was then called, cost $12. Four years later, when the Colts defeated the Dallas Cowboys in Super Bowl V, seats were $15.
"This year, I called the NFL and asked if former players could buy tickets," Curry said. Told the cost would be $900, he asked, "That's for two tickets, right?"
Wrong. Curry was stunned.
"I decided not to buy them," he said.
A sloppy, brutal game
Super Bowl V was the first one thus named; the first played for an NFL championship (following the merger of rival leagues); and the first played on artificial turf.
The newfangled grass worried the Colts' long-haired rookie kicker, Jim O'Brien, who'd said as much before the game.
"I hope they don't need me. I can't kick on this stuff." he'd groused.
But with five seconds left and the score tied, O'Brien nailed a 32-yard field goal to give the Colts a 16-13 victory – and the first-ever, sterling silver Vince Lombardi Trophy.
"I still get a warm, fuzzy feeling when I see the kick on TV," said O'Brien, who turned 64 on Wednesday.
That game in 1971 was full of gaffes: 10 turnovers, 14 penalties, a blocked extra-point and a twice-tipped touchdown pass.
Congratulating the winners afterward, President Richard Nixon quipped, "I hope I don't make that many mistakes in one day."
But those bonehead plays masked the Colts' obsession to win Super Bowl V, said the players, who were still smarting from their upset by the New York Jets in Super Bowl III.
"After losing that game, we thought, 'My God, what have we done?' " said guard Dan Sullivan, 71. "It's not easy, getting back to the Super Bowl."
But the Colts did.
"People say it was a terrible game, but the hitting was awesome to the end," Vogel said. "We were determined to make up for having lost to the Jets in 1969. The intensity was such that there was so much testosterone squirting around, the quality of play got lost in it.
"Sometimes, the juice gets in the way."
To celebrate, Colts' owner Carroll Rosenbloom flew the team to the Bahamas, where players caroused and licked their wounds.
"I remember going into a restaurant in Freeport, for breakfast. I couldn't hardly raise my arms to eat pancakes," said Fred Miller, 70, an All Pro defensive tackle. "I'd never been physically beat on so much in my life."
While the rings they received seemed big then, they pale alongside the bands of today.
"I couldn't wear the rings they get now," Curry said. "They've got to be three times bigger. They look like bracelets. I tried one on and it kept banging into things. I couldn't get my hand in my pocket. The ring protruded."
Super Bowl V drew a TV audience of 64 million, compared to the 110 million expected to watch Sunday night. Forty years ago, a 30-second commercial could be had for $72,000; now, it costs $3 million.
"The game has become marketing mayhem," said Matt Stover, 43, the former Ravens kicker who has been to three Super Bowls – 1991 (New York Giants), 2001 (Ravens) and 2010 (Indianapolis Colts).
"On the field, I've not seen much difference through the years. Football has been football, as long as I can remember," Stover said. "But the digital world has brought (the Super Bowl) alive all over the globe. Ten years ago, we didn't have Facebook or Twitter. Now, reporters, and even players, can put stuff on the web and it goes viral, around the world, in a matter of seconds.
"The upside? The Internet is great for fans. The downside? From a player's perspective, you better watch every move you make during those two weeks (before the game) because, with hand-held phones, everybody has a camera in his pocket. And if you've been recorded doing something, there's no denying it."
An easy win
A decade ago, in Super Bowl XXXV, Stover kicked two field goals as the Ravens trampled the New York Giants, 34-7. Looking back, players said, victory was a lock.
"Not to sound arrogant, but we all made jokes about it while playing ping-pong the week before," Dilfer said. "It wasn't a question of would we win, but by how much."
At halftime, the Ravens led, 10-0. That was all the points they'd need.
"In the locker room, a few of the defensive players said, 'Thanks, offense, but we'll take it from here,' " Stover said. "It made me giggle."
The Giants weren't laughing.
"We knew we were going to shut them down, because we'd done it to teams all year," said linebacker Peter Boulware, 36. "We asked ourselves, 'Will New York get a field goal, or somehow slip through and get a touchdown?'
"It was, like, our easiest game of the playoffs."
Midway through the fourth quarter, with the Ravens' victory in hand, a messenger approached the owners' box and told Art Modell that he was wanted on the field. Forget it, his wife said. Why take chances?
"You sit your [butt] down," Patricia Modell insisted. "You're not going anywhere until this thing is over."
That championship was the apex of Modell's career, launched 50 years ago when he bought the Cleveland Browns in 1961. Six years later, the Super Bowl was born.
"This game has undergone an evolution," Modell said. "Yes, it's a huge spectacle, and it has a tremendous hold on the audience. People want to know every nuance and every side story. But the game itself is still number one, and we (the NFL) are too smart to let it get away from us."
Players aren't so sure.
"The Super Bowl is a gigantic party now," said Miller, the old Colts lineman. "If I had the opportunity to go to the game, I believe that I'd refuse. I just wouldn't want to get involved in all of that hoopla."
Forty years ago, he said, the halftime show featured mainstream singer Anita Bryant.
"Who the hell is it this year, the Black Eyed Peas?" said Miller, a native Louisianan. "The only black-eyed peas I know grow in my garden."