SUPER HEALTH CLUB CONTROL THE FRATBOYS PRO

Everything blew up after the 1982 season, when golden boy John Elway of Stanford told everybody with a pen and paper or a microphone that if the Colts used the first pick in the draft on him, heвЂ™d go play baseball with the New York Yankees. Between 19, the Colts had a 19-53-1 record, and Memorial Stadium became the most depressing venue in the league. Under Irsay, the Colts grew as feeble as they had once been proud, and the homefolks werenвЂ™t as smitten during the Art Schlichter era as they were during Johnny UвЂ™s day. Phoenix was also in the running, and Indianapolis, even without its own team, built a huge indoor stadium, just in case. In August 1979, he helicoptered into the Gator Bowl in Jacksonville, Fla., where more than 50,000 townies had shown up at a hurriedly planned вЂњColts FeverвЂќ rally aimed at convincing him to move the team there. Irsay didnвЂ™t have trouble finding municipalities willing to accommodate him. He didnвЂ™t wait long to start baiting then-Mayor William Donald Schaefer with threats of moving the team if he didnвЂ™t get financial concessions. Irsay, a vagabond born in Chicago, had no Baltimore ties.

SUPER HEALTH CLUB CONTROL THE FRATBOYS PRO

Most sports historians call the 1958 NFL title game, in which the Colts beat the Giants in overtime-in what was then the most-watched television program of all time-the game that turned pro football into AmericaвЂ™s real pastime.Д«ut the teamвЂ™s grip on the community had been loosening ever since 1972, when Irsay, then the new owner of the Los Angeles Rams, pulled off a bizarre trade of franchises with the ColtsвЂ™ original owner, Baltimore native Carroll Rosenbloom. The team took three NFL championships before the merger with the AFL and, after it, a Super Bowl title in 1971. From 1957 through 1970, the Colts didnвЂ™t have a losing season. The NFL had relocated the franchise to Baltimore from Dallas after the 1952 season, and the team had quickly begun forging a bond with the locals the old-fashioned way: by winning. And youвЂ™re moving вЂ™em!вЂќД«y the time it went down, the transfer was hardly unexpected, though still quite sad. вЂњYouвЂ™ve all heard the rumors by now that the Baltimore Colts are going to move,вЂќ he barked. But, just before departure, a foreman boarded and gave everybody the skinny. The college kids thought the covert ambience meant this was some type of FBI or military hauling. When they showed up at the Mayflower offices that evening, a bus was waiting, with a crew of hardened full-time movers already on board. Updegrove and those who took the bait, meanwhile, didnвЂ™t know what they were getting into. вЂњI still hear about what I missed, but at the time, I didnвЂ™t know what I was missing.вЂќ вЂњThe money sounded great, but I had been planning a party that night, so I couldnвЂ™t go along,вЂќ recalls Scott Werber of Rockville, a Sigma Chi legend known as Gumby back in the day.

Others, because of the nasty weather and typical collegiate obligations, begged off. вЂњWhen he said, вЂtriple overtime,вЂ™вЂќ Updegrove says, вЂњclasses just were no longer of consequence.вЂќ Oh, and one more thing: All takers would be paid $21 an hour-or three times the normal rate-for this job only.ДЄbout 18 brothers signed on, none more enthusiastically than Updegrove. The manager would only impart that they should be at the regional office after sundown and wouldnвЂ™t get off until sunup. No specifics about the chore were given, either. The company had never asked the kids to help with midweek moves before they were students, after all. Members of that fraternity occasionally pulled shifts with Mayflower to defray pizza and beer costs, but from the start, this job was different. There was room for every able-bodied brother. On the other end of the line, a manager with Mayflower Transit asked if anybody wanted to work for the moving company that night. Updegrove, now an advertising executive in Los Angeles, was a senior at the University of Maryland the snowy afternoon in late March 1984 when the phone in his Sigma Chi house rang with the call that would give him and many of his Greek brothers their low-profile infamy. вЂњI have a place in football history.вЂќДЄnd what a place it is. вЂњI moved the Baltimore Colts,вЂќ laughs Mark Updegrove, one of IrsayвЂ™s unheralded, and unrepentant, cohorts. Like the crew of frat boys from College Park. Even in death, the former owner gets all the credit for the most reviled franchise shift in the annals of sport, so the little people who did all his dirty work have gone largely ignored. Bob Irsay has probably already taken his seat down under. Baltimore and Cleveland can both call themselves NFL cities again beginning this weekend, so maybe itвЂ™s time to cancel the reservations in hell being held for everybody behind the ColtsвЂ™ sneaky exit.

Super health club control the fratboys