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From Colts to Ravens : A Behind-The-Scenes Look at Baltimore Professional Football
Step into the locker rooms, the playing fields, and the owners’ offices with sportswriter John F. Steadman as he relates the fascinating tale of football in Baltimore. In scores of animated first-person accounts, the author tells it like it from the organization of the Colts in 1947, through the sale of the team to Bob Irsay in 1972, to the infamous trip out of the town under the cover of darkness in 1984, and finally the acquisition of a new Baltimore team, the Ravens, in 1996. Included in the telling are the player heroes—Unitas, Donovan, Moore, Berry, and others—as well as the coaches, general managers, and owners. Among the cast of characters were con men, real scoundrels, and not a few bizarre figures. Some had good intentions; others were inept; still others were devious. The story is spiced with pungent comments from a man who was there—first as a fan watching the inaugural game in 1947 and later as a professional reporting the championship moments, the demise in 1984, and the ensuing struggle to return to the league.
- GenresFootball
256 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 1997
20 people want to read
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October 26, 2025
From the beginning to the end to the beginning of N.F.L. professional football in Baltimore, John Steadman was there. The dean of Baltimore’s sportswriting community, Steadman was a mainstay of sports journalism in Maryland’s largest city for decades, from 1945 up until his death in 2001. In the process, he attended every game that the National Football League’s Baltimore Colts played, from 1950 through 1983, and saw all 34 of the Super Bowls that took place during his lifetime. It is fortunate for all football fans that he set down his memoir From Colts to Ravens in 1997, four years before his passing.
The organization of this book -- A Behind-the-Scenes Look at Baltimore Professional Football, according to its subtitle – might seem curious to some, but makes a great deal of sense upon further reflection. Chapters 1 through 5 of this 16-chapter book deal with what might be considered the end of the story – the process by which the Cleveland Browns, a historic team with a fervent following throughout Northern Ohio, unexpectedly relocated in 1995 to Baltimore, causing among Clevelanders the same kind of anguish that Baltimoreans had felt just 11 years earlier with the move of the Colts to Indianapolis. Those chapters come first, I think, because in 1997, the relocation of the Cleveland Browns to Baltimore was still big news. Steadman no doubt realized that readers would want to hear his insider’s perspective on the move, first and foremost.
Why would Art Modell do it? Why, after building up decades of goodwill as team owner and civic benefactor in Cleveland, would he suddenly choose to uproot a team that enjoyed such loyal and consistent support, knowing that doing so would make him, virtually overnight, the most hated man in Ohio? As Steadman sees it, the key factor in Modell’s decision to move may have been the Cleveland Indians’ rebirth as a competitive team in a brand-new stadium, pushing the Browns down to second-tier status in Cleveland sports media. According to Steadman, “Father Art and son David took the popularity of the Indians quite personally. There seems little question, then and now, that this was a significant force, maybe even more compelling than any promised financial bonanza in Baltimore, that drew Art Modell towards the crab flats of Chesapeake Bay” (p. 15). Is that all it takes for a sports-team owner to decide that he will break the hearts of millions?
It was a painful and troubling time in Greater Baltimore when the Browns made their move. Speaking as a Marylander and a Baltimore Colts fan who was deeply saddened when the team made its midnight move to Indianapolis, I can testify that erstwhile Baltimore Colts fans certainly wanted a new N.F.L. team; but we of the old Baltimore Colts fan community didn’t want a team that had been taken away from another city the same way the Baltimore Colts were taken from us. Steadman captures well the moral ambiguity of those times. He also conveys well an unwelcome reality of modern professional sports: no community, no matter how loyal its sports fans are, is ever safe if a team owner sees greener pastures elsewhere.
The remaining chapters of From Colts to Ravens provide a history of the Baltimore Colts, from their 1947-49 tenure as a member of the All-America Football Conference, through a singularly unsuccessful 1950 season during which the Colts were “a poor excuse for a professional operation” (p. 51), through disbandment and eventual re-establishment for the 1953 season. Steadman truly hits his stride when describing the 1958 Colts that defeated the New York Giants for the N.F.L. championship in a game that is still referred to as “The Greatest Game Ever Played.” In a striking marker of the way in which Steadman and the Baltimore Colts always seemed to have a special bond, Steadman looks back at how, “for the only time in a sportswriting life, I had actually predicted the exact outcome, the Colts winners at 23-17, and published it in the Sunday American only hours before the kickoff” (p. 149).
Steadman describes other Baltimore Colts highlights, such as the 1959 N.F.L. championship that “stands as the only championship the Colts ever won before the home audience, right there in Memorial Stadium” (p. 154), as well as the team’s 1971 victory over the Dallas Cowboys in the mistake-filled Super Bowl V that was “either the sloppiest or the most exciting of all Super Bowls, depending on the point of view” (p. 179). Dutifully, he also chronicles lowlights like the time when the Colts, favored by 16½ points, lost Super Bowl III to Joe Namath and the New York Jets. The reason for that 16-7 loss? According to Steadman, “The overly confident Colts…figured they could win by merely showing up – but it didn’t happen that way. It never does” (p. 177).
After 1971, sadly, the story of the Baltimore Colts was mostly lowlights. Owner Carroll Rosenbloom, miffed that neither Baltimore City nor Baltimore County was willing to build a new stadium for him, arranged an elaborate team-for-team trade of the Baltimore Colts for the Los Angeles Rams – a process by which Robert Irsay came to Baltimore as the Colts’ new owner, in what might be regarded as Rosenbloom’s parting shot toward Baltimore. Instability in the front office was reflected in inconsistent performance on the field, and the relationship between Baltimore and the mercurial Irsay deteriorated until March 28, 1984, when Mayflower moving vans took the team to Indianapolis in the dead of night.
For Steadman, who worked for the Baltimore Colts for a time and covered them for three decades, it was like a death in the family. Watch the videos covering the Colts’ midnight relocation on YouTube, and you can see the heartache in his face and hear it in his voice. A striking moment in the book occurs when Steadman describes a run-in with Irsay at the Colts’ new stadium in Indianapolis during the 1984 season:
I thought maybe he was coming to gloat over the new “house” his team was playing in, compared to Memorial Stadium. He appeared to put out his hand and I got up to say hello. With that he pulled me in close to him and said, “How does it feel to be a shit-heel?” I pushed him away and replied, “How does it feel to be devoid of common decency?” (p. 223)
That passage captures well Steadman’s pessimistic feelings regarding the behavior that can be expected from professional sports team owners in the modern era. Root for a team as much as you like, but be aware that you can’t count on that team always being there for you. Civic loyalty counts for nothing. When enough money talks, sports teams walk.
John Steadman died on January 1, 2001. Had he lived 27 days longer, he could have seen the Baltimore Ravens defeat the New York Giants, 34-7, in Super Bowl XXXV at Tampa, Florida. How would it have felt for him? I’m sure he would have liked the historical irony of a new Baltimore team triumphing over the Giants, the Baltimore Colts’ old antagonists from the 1958 and 1959 N.F.L. championships. But I don’t think he would have felt the same degree of emotion in 2001 that he felt back in 1958. For Steadman, “The Colts remain irreplaceable”, even though the Ravens could, from the 1996 season onwards, play “before new generations of followers who deserve the chance to have a team of their own” (p. 224).
Those new generations are running things now. A Baltimorean born on March 28, 1984 -- the day the Baltimore Colts left town -- is more than 40 years old now, and has had the Ravens to root for since they were 12 years old. Additionally, as of the start of the 2019 N.F.L. season, the Colts have been playing in Indianapolis longer than they played in Baltimore. The earth belongs to the living.
Still, like a number of Baltimoreans I know who are of Steadman's generation, Steadman would rather “Hold dear the memory” (p. 225) of the Baltimore Colts than transfer his loyalties to the Baltimore Ravens.
From Colts to Giants is well-illustrated with photos from throughout the Baltimore Colts’ history. Published by Tidewater Publishers, a no-longer-existent Centreville, Maryland, publisher that excelled at publishing Chesapeake Bay and Maryland regional material, this book deserves a place on the shelf of any pro football fan, or any student of Baltimore’s history and culture.
The organization of this book -- A Behind-the-Scenes Look at Baltimore Professional Football, according to its subtitle – might seem curious to some, but makes a great deal of sense upon further reflection. Chapters 1 through 5 of this 16-chapter book deal with what might be considered the end of the story – the process by which the Cleveland Browns, a historic team with a fervent following throughout Northern Ohio, unexpectedly relocated in 1995 to Baltimore, causing among Clevelanders the same kind of anguish that Baltimoreans had felt just 11 years earlier with the move of the Colts to Indianapolis. Those chapters come first, I think, because in 1997, the relocation of the Cleveland Browns to Baltimore was still big news. Steadman no doubt realized that readers would want to hear his insider’s perspective on the move, first and foremost.
Why would Art Modell do it? Why, after building up decades of goodwill as team owner and civic benefactor in Cleveland, would he suddenly choose to uproot a team that enjoyed such loyal and consistent support, knowing that doing so would make him, virtually overnight, the most hated man in Ohio? As Steadman sees it, the key factor in Modell’s decision to move may have been the Cleveland Indians’ rebirth as a competitive team in a brand-new stadium, pushing the Browns down to second-tier status in Cleveland sports media. According to Steadman, “Father Art and son David took the popularity of the Indians quite personally. There seems little question, then and now, that this was a significant force, maybe even more compelling than any promised financial bonanza in Baltimore, that drew Art Modell towards the crab flats of Chesapeake Bay” (p. 15). Is that all it takes for a sports-team owner to decide that he will break the hearts of millions?
It was a painful and troubling time in Greater Baltimore when the Browns made their move. Speaking as a Marylander and a Baltimore Colts fan who was deeply saddened when the team made its midnight move to Indianapolis, I can testify that erstwhile Baltimore Colts fans certainly wanted a new N.F.L. team; but we of the old Baltimore Colts fan community didn’t want a team that had been taken away from another city the same way the Baltimore Colts were taken from us. Steadman captures well the moral ambiguity of those times. He also conveys well an unwelcome reality of modern professional sports: no community, no matter how loyal its sports fans are, is ever safe if a team owner sees greener pastures elsewhere.
The remaining chapters of From Colts to Ravens provide a history of the Baltimore Colts, from their 1947-49 tenure as a member of the All-America Football Conference, through a singularly unsuccessful 1950 season during which the Colts were “a poor excuse for a professional operation” (p. 51), through disbandment and eventual re-establishment for the 1953 season. Steadman truly hits his stride when describing the 1958 Colts that defeated the New York Giants for the N.F.L. championship in a game that is still referred to as “The Greatest Game Ever Played.” In a striking marker of the way in which Steadman and the Baltimore Colts always seemed to have a special bond, Steadman looks back at how, “for the only time in a sportswriting life, I had actually predicted the exact outcome, the Colts winners at 23-17, and published it in the Sunday American only hours before the kickoff” (p. 149).
Steadman describes other Baltimore Colts highlights, such as the 1959 N.F.L. championship that “stands as the only championship the Colts ever won before the home audience, right there in Memorial Stadium” (p. 154), as well as the team’s 1971 victory over the Dallas Cowboys in the mistake-filled Super Bowl V that was “either the sloppiest or the most exciting of all Super Bowls, depending on the point of view” (p. 179). Dutifully, he also chronicles lowlights like the time when the Colts, favored by 16½ points, lost Super Bowl III to Joe Namath and the New York Jets. The reason for that 16-7 loss? According to Steadman, “The overly confident Colts…figured they could win by merely showing up – but it didn’t happen that way. It never does” (p. 177).
After 1971, sadly, the story of the Baltimore Colts was mostly lowlights. Owner Carroll Rosenbloom, miffed that neither Baltimore City nor Baltimore County was willing to build a new stadium for him, arranged an elaborate team-for-team trade of the Baltimore Colts for the Los Angeles Rams – a process by which Robert Irsay came to Baltimore as the Colts’ new owner, in what might be regarded as Rosenbloom’s parting shot toward Baltimore. Instability in the front office was reflected in inconsistent performance on the field, and the relationship between Baltimore and the mercurial Irsay deteriorated until March 28, 1984, when Mayflower moving vans took the team to Indianapolis in the dead of night.
For Steadman, who worked for the Baltimore Colts for a time and covered them for three decades, it was like a death in the family. Watch the videos covering the Colts’ midnight relocation on YouTube, and you can see the heartache in his face and hear it in his voice. A striking moment in the book occurs when Steadman describes a run-in with Irsay at the Colts’ new stadium in Indianapolis during the 1984 season:
I thought maybe he was coming to gloat over the new “house” his team was playing in, compared to Memorial Stadium. He appeared to put out his hand and I got up to say hello. With that he pulled me in close to him and said, “How does it feel to be a shit-heel?” I pushed him away and replied, “How does it feel to be devoid of common decency?” (p. 223)
That passage captures well Steadman’s pessimistic feelings regarding the behavior that can be expected from professional sports team owners in the modern era. Root for a team as much as you like, but be aware that you can’t count on that team always being there for you. Civic loyalty counts for nothing. When enough money talks, sports teams walk.
John Steadman died on January 1, 2001. Had he lived 27 days longer, he could have seen the Baltimore Ravens defeat the New York Giants, 34-7, in Super Bowl XXXV at Tampa, Florida. How would it have felt for him? I’m sure he would have liked the historical irony of a new Baltimore team triumphing over the Giants, the Baltimore Colts’ old antagonists from the 1958 and 1959 N.F.L. championships. But I don’t think he would have felt the same degree of emotion in 2001 that he felt back in 1958. For Steadman, “The Colts remain irreplaceable”, even though the Ravens could, from the 1996 season onwards, play “before new generations of followers who deserve the chance to have a team of their own” (p. 224).
Those new generations are running things now. A Baltimorean born on March 28, 1984 -- the day the Baltimore Colts left town -- is more than 40 years old now, and has had the Ravens to root for since they were 12 years old. Additionally, as of the start of the 2019 N.F.L. season, the Colts have been playing in Indianapolis longer than they played in Baltimore. The earth belongs to the living.
Still, like a number of Baltimoreans I know who are of Steadman's generation, Steadman would rather “Hold dear the memory” (p. 225) of the Baltimore Colts than transfer his loyalties to the Baltimore Ravens.
From Colts to Giants is well-illustrated with photos from throughout the Baltimore Colts’ history. Published by Tidewater Publishers, a no-longer-existent Centreville, Maryland, publisher that excelled at publishing Chesapeake Bay and Maryland regional material, this book deserves a place on the shelf of any pro football fan, or any student of Baltimore’s history and culture.
October 13, 2014
From the beginning to the end to the beginning of professional football in Baltimore, John Steadman was there. The dean of Baltimore’s sportswriting community, Steadman was a fixture in sports journalism in Maryland’s largest city for decades, from 1945 up until his death in 2001. In the process, he attended every game that the N.F.L. Baltimore Colts played, from 1950 through 1983, and saw all 34 of the Super Bowls that took place during his lifetime. It is fortunate for all football fans that he set down his memoir From Colts to Ravens in 1997, four years before his passing.
The organization of this book -- A Behind-the-Scenes Look at Baltimore Professional Football, according to its subtitle – might seem curious to some, but makes a great deal of sense upon further reflection. Chapters 1 through 5 of this 16-chapter book deal with what might be considered the end of the story – the process by which the Cleveland Browns, a historic team with a fervent following throughout Northern Ohio, unexpectedly relocated in 1995 to Baltimore, causing among Clevelanders the same kind of anguish that Baltimoreans had felt just 11 years earlier with the move of the Colts to Indianapolis. Those chapters come first, I think, because in 1997, the relocation of the Cleveland Browns to Baltimore was still big news. Steadman no doubt realized that readers would want to hear his insider’s perspective on the move, first and foremost.
Why would Art Modell do it? Why, after building up decades of goodwill as team owner and civic benefactor in Cleveland, would he suddenly choose to uproot a team that enjoyed such loyal and consistent support, knowing that doing so would make him, virtually overnight, the most hated man in Ohio? As Steadman sees it, the key factor in Modell’s decision to move may have been the Cleveland Indians’ rebirth as a competitive team in a brand-new stadium, pushing the Browns down to second-tier status in Cleveland sports media. According to Steadman, “Father Art and son David took the popularity of the Indians quite personally. There seems little question, then and now, that this was a significant force, maybe even more compelling than any promised financial bonanza in Baltimore, that drew Art Modell towards the crab flats of Chesapeake Bay” (p. 15). Is that all it takes for a sports-team owner to decide that he will break the hearts of millions?
It was a painful and troubling time in Greater Baltimore when the Browns made their move. We wanted a new N.F.L. team, to be sure, but we didn’t want one that had been taken away from another city the same way the Baltimore Colts were taken from us. Steadman captures well the moral ambiguity of those times. He also conveys well an unwelcome reality of modern professional sports: no community, no matter how loyal its sports fans are, is ever safe if a wealthy and egotistical team owner (is there any other kind?) sees greener pastures elsewhere.
The remaining chapters of From Colts to Ravens provide a history of the Baltimore Colts, from their 1947-49 tenure as a member of the All-America Football Conference, through a singularly unsuccessful 1950 season during which the Colts were “a poor excuse for a professional operation” (p. 51), through disbandment and eventual re-establishment for the 1953 season. Steadman truly hits his stride when describing the 1958 Colts that defeated the New York Giants for the N.F.L. championship in a game that is still referred to as “The Greatest Game Ever Played.” In a striking marker of the way in which Steadman and the Baltimore Colts always seemed to have a special bond, Steadman looks back at how, “for the only time in a sportswriting life, I had actually predicted the exact outcome, the Colts winners at 23-17, and published it in the Sunday American only hours before the kickoff” (p. 149).
Steadman describes other Baltimore Colts highlights, such as the 1959 N.F.L. championship that “stands as the only championship the Colts ever won before the home audience, right there in Memorial Stadium” (p. 154), as well as the team’s 1971 victory over the Dallas Cowboys in the mistake-filled Super Bowl V that was “either the sloppiest or the most exciting of all Super Bowls, depending on the point of view” (p. 179). Dutifully, he also chronicles lowlights like the time when the Colts, favored by 16½ points, lost Super Bowl III to Joe Namath and the New York Jets. The reason for that 16-7 loss? According to Steadman, “The overly confident Colts…figured they could win by merely showing up – but it didn’t happen that way. It never does” (p. 177).
After 1971, sadly, the story of the Baltimore Colts was mostly lowlights. Owner Carroll Rosenbloom, miffed that neither Baltimore City nor Baltimore County was willing to build a new stadium for him, arranged an elaborate team-for-team trade of the Baltimore Colts for the Los Angeles Rams – a process by which Robert Irsay came to Baltimore as the Colts’ new owner, in what might be regarded as Rosenbloom’s parting shot toward Baltimore. Instability in the front office was reflected in inconsistent performance on the field, and the relationship between Baltimore and the mercurial Irsay deteriorated until March 28, 1984, when Mayflower moving vans took the team to Indianapolis in the dead of night.
For Steadman, who worked for the Baltimore Colts for a time and covered them for three decades, it was like a death in the family. Watch the videos covering the Colts’ midnight relocation on YouTube, and you can see the heartache in his face and hear it in his voice. A striking moment in the book occurs when Steadman describes a run-in with Irsay at the Colts’ new stadium in Indianapolis during the 1984 season:
I thought maybe he was coming to gloat over the new “house” his team was playing in, compared to Memorial Stadium. He appeared to put out his hand and I got up to say hello. With that he pulled me in close to him and said, “How does it feel to be a shit-heel?” I pushed him away and replied, “How does it feel to be devoid of common decency?” (p. 223)
That passage captures well Steadman’s pessimistic feelings regarding the behavior that can be expected from professional sports team owners in the modern era. Root for a team as much as you like, but be aware that you can’t count on that team always being there for you. Civic loyalty counts for nothing. When enough money talks, sports teams walk.
John Steadman died on January 1, 2001. Had he lived 27 days longer, he could have seen the Baltimore Ravens defeat the New York Giants, 34-7, in Super Bowl XXXV at Tampa, Florida. How would it have felt for him? I’m sure he would have liked the historical irony of a new Baltimore team triumphing over the Giants, the Baltimore Colts’ old antagonists from the 1958 and 1959 N.F.L. championships. But I don’t think he would have felt the same degree of emotion in 2001 that he felt back in 1958. For Steadman, “The Colts remain irreplaceable”, even though the Ravens could, from the 1996 season onwards, play “before new generations of followers who deserve the chance to have a team of their own” (p. 224).
Those new generations are running things now. A Baltimorean born on March 28, 1984 -- the day the Baltimore Colts left town -- is thirty years old now, and has had the Ravens to root for since he or she was twelve years old. Additionally, as of the start of the 2019 N.F.L. season (barring a midnight move to Los Angeles or Toronto or Frankfurt or wherever), the Colts will have been playing in Indianapolis longer than they played in Baltimore. The earth belongs to the living. Still, like a number of Baltimoreans I know who are of Steadman's generation, Steadman would rather “Hold dear the memory” (p. 225) of the Baltimore Colts than transfer his loyalties to the Baltimore Ravens.
From Colts to Giants is well-illustrated with photographs from throughout the Baltimore Colts’ history. Published by Tidewater Publishers, a no-longer-existent Centreville, Maryland, publisher that excelled at publishing Chesapeake Bay and Maryland regional material, this book deserves a place on the shelf of any pro football fan, or any student of Baltimore’s history and culture.
The organization of this book -- A Behind-the-Scenes Look at Baltimore Professional Football, according to its subtitle – might seem curious to some, but makes a great deal of sense upon further reflection. Chapters 1 through 5 of this 16-chapter book deal with what might be considered the end of the story – the process by which the Cleveland Browns, a historic team with a fervent following throughout Northern Ohio, unexpectedly relocated in 1995 to Baltimore, causing among Clevelanders the same kind of anguish that Baltimoreans had felt just 11 years earlier with the move of the Colts to Indianapolis. Those chapters come first, I think, because in 1997, the relocation of the Cleveland Browns to Baltimore was still big news. Steadman no doubt realized that readers would want to hear his insider’s perspective on the move, first and foremost.
Why would Art Modell do it? Why, after building up decades of goodwill as team owner and civic benefactor in Cleveland, would he suddenly choose to uproot a team that enjoyed such loyal and consistent support, knowing that doing so would make him, virtually overnight, the most hated man in Ohio? As Steadman sees it, the key factor in Modell’s decision to move may have been the Cleveland Indians’ rebirth as a competitive team in a brand-new stadium, pushing the Browns down to second-tier status in Cleveland sports media. According to Steadman, “Father Art and son David took the popularity of the Indians quite personally. There seems little question, then and now, that this was a significant force, maybe even more compelling than any promised financial bonanza in Baltimore, that drew Art Modell towards the crab flats of Chesapeake Bay” (p. 15). Is that all it takes for a sports-team owner to decide that he will break the hearts of millions?
It was a painful and troubling time in Greater Baltimore when the Browns made their move. We wanted a new N.F.L. team, to be sure, but we didn’t want one that had been taken away from another city the same way the Baltimore Colts were taken from us. Steadman captures well the moral ambiguity of those times. He also conveys well an unwelcome reality of modern professional sports: no community, no matter how loyal its sports fans are, is ever safe if a wealthy and egotistical team owner (is there any other kind?) sees greener pastures elsewhere.
The remaining chapters of From Colts to Ravens provide a history of the Baltimore Colts, from their 1947-49 tenure as a member of the All-America Football Conference, through a singularly unsuccessful 1950 season during which the Colts were “a poor excuse for a professional operation” (p. 51), through disbandment and eventual re-establishment for the 1953 season. Steadman truly hits his stride when describing the 1958 Colts that defeated the New York Giants for the N.F.L. championship in a game that is still referred to as “The Greatest Game Ever Played.” In a striking marker of the way in which Steadman and the Baltimore Colts always seemed to have a special bond, Steadman looks back at how, “for the only time in a sportswriting life, I had actually predicted the exact outcome, the Colts winners at 23-17, and published it in the Sunday American only hours before the kickoff” (p. 149).
Steadman describes other Baltimore Colts highlights, such as the 1959 N.F.L. championship that “stands as the only championship the Colts ever won before the home audience, right there in Memorial Stadium” (p. 154), as well as the team’s 1971 victory over the Dallas Cowboys in the mistake-filled Super Bowl V that was “either the sloppiest or the most exciting of all Super Bowls, depending on the point of view” (p. 179). Dutifully, he also chronicles lowlights like the time when the Colts, favored by 16½ points, lost Super Bowl III to Joe Namath and the New York Jets. The reason for that 16-7 loss? According to Steadman, “The overly confident Colts…figured they could win by merely showing up – but it didn’t happen that way. It never does” (p. 177).
After 1971, sadly, the story of the Baltimore Colts was mostly lowlights. Owner Carroll Rosenbloom, miffed that neither Baltimore City nor Baltimore County was willing to build a new stadium for him, arranged an elaborate team-for-team trade of the Baltimore Colts for the Los Angeles Rams – a process by which Robert Irsay came to Baltimore as the Colts’ new owner, in what might be regarded as Rosenbloom’s parting shot toward Baltimore. Instability in the front office was reflected in inconsistent performance on the field, and the relationship between Baltimore and the mercurial Irsay deteriorated until March 28, 1984, when Mayflower moving vans took the team to Indianapolis in the dead of night.
For Steadman, who worked for the Baltimore Colts for a time and covered them for three decades, it was like a death in the family. Watch the videos covering the Colts’ midnight relocation on YouTube, and you can see the heartache in his face and hear it in his voice. A striking moment in the book occurs when Steadman describes a run-in with Irsay at the Colts’ new stadium in Indianapolis during the 1984 season:
I thought maybe he was coming to gloat over the new “house” his team was playing in, compared to Memorial Stadium. He appeared to put out his hand and I got up to say hello. With that he pulled me in close to him and said, “How does it feel to be a shit-heel?” I pushed him away and replied, “How does it feel to be devoid of common decency?” (p. 223)
That passage captures well Steadman’s pessimistic feelings regarding the behavior that can be expected from professional sports team owners in the modern era. Root for a team as much as you like, but be aware that you can’t count on that team always being there for you. Civic loyalty counts for nothing. When enough money talks, sports teams walk.
John Steadman died on January 1, 2001. Had he lived 27 days longer, he could have seen the Baltimore Ravens defeat the New York Giants, 34-7, in Super Bowl XXXV at Tampa, Florida. How would it have felt for him? I’m sure he would have liked the historical irony of a new Baltimore team triumphing over the Giants, the Baltimore Colts’ old antagonists from the 1958 and 1959 N.F.L. championships. But I don’t think he would have felt the same degree of emotion in 2001 that he felt back in 1958. For Steadman, “The Colts remain irreplaceable”, even though the Ravens could, from the 1996 season onwards, play “before new generations of followers who deserve the chance to have a team of their own” (p. 224).
Those new generations are running things now. A Baltimorean born on March 28, 1984 -- the day the Baltimore Colts left town -- is thirty years old now, and has had the Ravens to root for since he or she was twelve years old. Additionally, as of the start of the 2019 N.F.L. season (barring a midnight move to Los Angeles or Toronto or Frankfurt or wherever), the Colts will have been playing in Indianapolis longer than they played in Baltimore. The earth belongs to the living. Still, like a number of Baltimoreans I know who are of Steadman's generation, Steadman would rather “Hold dear the memory” (p. 225) of the Baltimore Colts than transfer his loyalties to the Baltimore Ravens.
From Colts to Giants is well-illustrated with photographs from throughout the Baltimore Colts’ history. Published by Tidewater Publishers, a no-longer-existent Centreville, Maryland, publisher that excelled at publishing Chesapeake Bay and Maryland regional material, this book deserves a place on the shelf of any pro football fan, or any student of Baltimore’s history and culture.
May 2, 2020
I picked this book up because I remember when the Baltimore Colts moved and how devastated the community was when this happened. In the spirit of full disclosure I was not a football fan when I was young; my father watched football and I was familiar with a few names of the players. I knew how close the fans felt to the team and how betrayed they felt when the team was taken away from them. I was doubly upset when the Ravens came to Baltimore and left the name and history of the Browns in Cleveland. That should have happened with the Colts. Johnny Unitas was a Baltimore Colt - period. Anyway, this book is a tome. It is very detailed and to be honest; I could not finish it. If you are looking are a tremendous amount of detail about the behind the scenes machinations - this is the book for you. John Steadman not only had a front row seat; he was an active player; so, it is an excellent history book; but, I could not make it all the way through.
January 5, 2021
A terrific history from the dean of Baltimore sportswriters. Covers the AAFL Colts, the NFL Colts, the history of the move to Indianapolis, to the arrival of the Ravens. A great look from an insider who knew the players, the owners, and the movers and shakers of Baltimore sports during a period where the relationships between the media and sports figures was particularly close.
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June 3, 2009Very good book.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews