Aside from living in Ohio when the Bengals went to the Superbowl in the late 80s, we have not ever lived in or near a city that has enjoyed any football success. (Remember, we lived near Detroit for 10 years. 'Nuff said.) So we have been amused, and even a bit confused, by the hoopla surrounding the Ravens playoff bid this year.
For instance, yesterday was the locally-designated "Purple Day". All fans were to wear Ravens jerseys or at least purple and/or black in some shape or form. This declaration made the people-watching very interesting around here yesterday. As I stood in line at the post office Friday morning, an elderly (80 to 85 years old) lady came in all decked out in her Ravens jersey, complete with purple turtleneck underneath. Our local weatherman, who recently shaved his head on some sort of bet, had his bald head painted black like a raven's head with the team symbol on the side in gold.
Loyal fans have been spotted wearing purple feathered hats with their faces painted completely purple while sporting blinking Ravens earrings. At intersections, I have to crane my neck to see the traffic light past the Ravens flag (or flags) billowing off the car in front of me. And, I have to say, it's more than a little disconcerting to see grown men proudly walking through the supermarket in purple sweatpants. (Truthfully, it's more than a little disconcerting to see grown men out in public in ANY color sweatpants, but that's a whole 'nother post.)
As I type, the game has ended, and we are celebrating in our house. You see, although we wouldn't admit it to anyone around here, we were rooting for Peyton Manning and the Colts. (Sorry Bruce!) Thank heaven I will be able to go to the grocery store without my blinders on now!