Volume 1, Number 3.1
January, 1998
The Final Decision
By Dean Shutt
The day started with a sense of foreboding that anyone that has run into
an old love can understand. I had known it was coming for a few days.
Ever since the TV listings had been posted for that weekend. The Sunday
early game, Dolphins at Colts, my beloved Colts, that is my former
beloved Colts. I had quit the Colts earlier this year, after a 31 to 3
drubbing by the Seahawks. I had declared then and I still believe that
the Colts were incapable of fielding a consistent winner. Too many
mistakes, too many bad drafts, too many free agent busts, too many
losses, I couldn't handle it anymore. So I packed up the Colts' gear and
declared my free agency. I sent notices to all of the NFL teams (save
the Cowboys and the Raiders whom I hate) and offered my services as a
fan. I received offers from several teams. Several well meaning suitors
who would most assuredly bring me more joy over the years than the Colts
have over the last twenty-five. I investigated a few others, checking
out websites and reading the local coverage. I had planned on making the
announcement of my new team in this space next month. All was going
well.
Then came last Sunday's early game. The Colts took the field in their
home blue and white as they have so many times before. There was Jim
Harbough, Marshall, Zack, Cliff, Sean, Marvin and Trent. On defense I
said hello again to Quentin Coryatt, Ellis, Carlton, Al and the rest.
They all looked good, they all looked healthy, no lingering injuries
like in years past. Still I thought nothing of it, they were still the
Colts. The 2-12 Colts vs. the 9-5 and playoff bound Dolphins. Surely I
was in for an ugly one sided beating applied to my former team.
Then a funny thing happened. I watched, first in awe and then tentative
joy and finally unabashed glee as the Colts put a whipping on the
Dolphins. They didn't beat them, they whipped them. They drove Dan
Marino from the game. Not due to injury mind you, but simply because he
couldn't handle them. They scored on every possession of the first half.
They rang up 31 points in the second quarter. They protected Jim, they
cleared holes for Marshall, they were a sight to behold. I found myself
thinking back to '95 but this was better. In 1995 they got by teams on
heart and will. In this game they simply outclassed the Dolphins, the
Fish never had a chance.
And then it was over. I was still without a team. I asked my good friend
with whom I was watching the game what I ought to do. He knew that I was
really asking whether I should go back or not. Being a Raiders' fan he
had an inkling of the emotional turmoil I was in at that point. He said
that if I went back it was forever and that this season was my last best
chance to break free. He said that I shouldn't make my decision on one
game, that I had to look at the big picture. He said that if I went back
I would just be hurt again. He said my reasons for leaving the Colts
were sound and that I should bear them in mind. Then I asked him the big
question. Being a Raiders fan, after watching his Silver and Black fall
from grace to mediocrity to finally inconsequentiality. What did he plan
on doing? He replied that he had the same moral crisis that I was now
experiencing. His plan of action? "I will wait for Al Davis to die." He
said.
I sat on that couch surrounded by well meaning friends who could never
understand. One, a Cowboys' fan, who had a few bad years to chew on. The
other, a Raiders' fan with three Superbowl titles to reminisce about.
Me, with a team that had given me nothing but pain for over twenty
years. Yes, they had looked incredible today. A fine victory based
purely on their talent and skill. But what did it mean long term? Aside
from moving farther away from the number one pick in the draft? What had
I seen that could possibly be construed as anything different from what
I had seen so many times before. A late season upset in an otherwise
pointless campaign. In short I had seen nothing to convince me that this
was anything other than the same old bumbling Colts. They will play
themselves out of the first pick. They will play well enough to get the
wrong coach one more year. They will sign the wrong free agents in the
offseason. They will draft a disappointment in the first round. They
will lose more than they win ad infinitum.
So I sat on that couch, surrounded by friends yet all alone, A strange
sense of calm came over me. I got up from my seat. Suddenly it all
became so clear that I knew the decision was no longer mine. I went out
to our back office. I pulled out the cardboard box. I put the jersey on,
I put the cap on my head. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a
long time. I didn't see a man who liked a football team. I didn't see a
man who was a free agent. I only saw a Colts' fan. Long suffering and at
the end of his rope, but a Colts' fan nonetheless. I could no more stop
being a Colts' fan than I could stop breathing. Me, a man who looks at
commitment the way a dog looks at a cat, couldn't break the worst
promise I'd ever made. As I trudged back inside, happy and resigned at
the same time. My friend was waiting for me. He took one look at my
attire and said simply, "Welcome back."
SJ Rhinoshttp://www.rhinos.com/rhinos/
Indianapolis Coltshttp://www.nfl.com/colts/
Red Soxhttp://www.redsox.com/home.html
http://www.sportscircuit.com/baseball/
NY Rangershttp://www.nhl.com/teams/nyr/sitehome.htm