Late in 2000 or early in 2001 — I don't remember which, except that I know it was before Jan. 7 — I saw Finding Forrester in the theater.
There are two things I remember about this otherwise forgettable film. First, Sean Connery inexplicably utters the phrase "You're the man now, dog" with the seriousness and earnestness of Olivier delivering Hamlet's soliloquy. The ludicrous juxtaposition spawned YTMND.com, one of the early breakout sites for what we would now call "meme culture," for good or ill.
Second, there's a scene in the film in which an English teacher, played by April Grace, is teaching a class about Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven." She notes that Poe wrote the poem while "strung out on coke and obsessed with death." One of the kids in the class says: "'The Raven.' Like the football team." And another yuckster chimes in with: "That's a team obsessed with death. Always getting their ass kicked."
I kid you not, in this theater in Hendersonville, people literally applauded the line. Cheering. Whooping. Hollering. High-fiving.
Neither I nor any of my fellow moviegoers could have known that the Ravens were about to get the last cacaw. On Jan. 7, 2001, mere days after I saw the film, the Baltimore Ravens came to Nashville and beat the Titans — fielding what was probably the best team the franchise has had since moving from Houston — 24-10. They knocked the 13-3 Two-Toners, boasting the best record in the league, out of the playoffs. The Ravens would continue their cacawing all the way to a Super Bowl title.
It is perhaps difficult for younger or newer fans of the Titans to fully grasp the visceral hatred their fellow fans Of a Certain Age have for the Ravens. It is the kind of all-consuming revulsion usually reserved for dictators or the St. Louis Cardinals.
Before the 2002 NFL realignment, the Titans (and before them, the Houston/Tennessee Oilers) and Ravens (and before them, the Cleveland Browns) were in the old AFC Central and thus played twice a season. Familiarity breeds contempt, of course, but it was more than mere typical intradivisional rivalry. The teams both prided themselves on defense and their bruising running attack. The match-ups were hard-hitting affairs and the almost-tangible enmity on the field bled into the bleachers. When Eddie George stiff-armed Ray Lewis like a Cornish wrestler scoring a back, we felt like it was us doing the Mayor of Knox County impression. When Lewis returned the favor, our teeth rattled too.
Three years after the aforementioned playoff loss, the Titans got revenge, besting Baltimore in the Charm City 20-17 when Gary Anderson, then a spry 44, hit a game-winning field goal with 33 seconds left. Five years later, Baltimore returned the favor with a late Matt Stover game-winner giving them a 13-10 playoff win.
The on-field back-and-forth notwithstanding, two-tone hearts broke when beloved quarterback Steve McNair left town for Baltimore after the 2005 season, joining wide receiver Derrick Mason, who made the same move a year prior.
So when the grizzled gentleman in the Dainon Sidney jersey mumbles about the Trash Birds or mutters something off-hand about Ray Lewis' white suit or spits the name of former Ravens coach Brian Billick (a dead ringer for the dad from Seventh Heaven, by the way), know that it comes from a deep and dark place within him.
Realignment merely made this volcano of vitriol dormant; it is not extinct. And while hatred for specific players inside the division — usually Houston's preening attention-seeker J.J. Watt — provides a healthy outlet for the magma of malice, it just isn't the same as the wholesale hatred reserved for Baltimore.
Astute readers will have noticed the three Titans-Ravens playoff games were all won by the road team, and that the teams have alternated wins: Baltimore, Tennessee, Baltimore.
Since the playoffs aren't a time for measured analysis, there's no need to discuss the thrilling play of Lamar Jackson and the creative and unique offense the Ravens constructed, fitting their attack to his skill set rather than trying to jam a dodecagonal peg into a round hole. Nor do we need to break down how Derrick Henry will fare against the league's fifth-best run defense (in part because he steamrolled over the fourth-best last week).
Nay, the playoffs are instead a time for optimism rooted in some semblance of logic. Indeed, the aforementioned playoff pattern should give Titans fans hope.
The Titans and Ravens historically tend toward the mean. Since the latter's relocation from Cleveland (the NFL retconned the Browns' history; the new Browns count the old Browns as part of their lineage, counter to what the NFL has done in past relocations and, given the rather sorrowful history in question, counter to logic), the teams have met 20 times in the regular season. Each team has won 10.
The past eight meetings, including the playoff game in January 2009, have had the following winners: Tennessee, Baltimore, Tennessee, Baltimore, Tennessee, Baltimore, Tennessee, Baltimore.
On Jan. 7, 2001, the Baltimore Ravens put the boots to the team with the NFL's best regular-season record. The pattern says it's time to return the favor.
