By Michael Silver

If ever a man proved his worth as a future head coach, Lewis did it with this complete domination of the Giants in their 16 possessions: Punt, punt, punt, punt, punt, punt, interception, punt, interception, interception, punt, interception, punt, punt, punt, end of game. New York went three-and-out (or worse) on 10 of those possessions. "We let the Giants do all their shifting and waited for them to come to us," Lewis said. "Of course, Ray stuffed everything. He just keeps rewriting the linebacker position."

Think Jack Lambert meets Lawrence Taylor, and that was Ray Lewis against the Giants. He got his hands on five Collins passes, one of which was tipped to linebacker Jamie Sharper for a second-quarter interception. He had five tackles and was better in space than Captain Kirk. Lewis's signature moment came two plays after Stokley's touchdown. On second-and-eight from the New York 16, Barber, the Giants' quick scatback, broke free toward the left sideline and prepared to turn the corner. Lewis motored from the middle of the field and made a diving tackle, stopping Barber for a two-yard gain.

New York wideouts Ike Hilliard and Amani Toomer, who ran wild against the Vikings, were nonfactors, combining for 54 yards on five catches. After the game, as he lifted his arms to allow a team doctor to examine his aching ribs, Hilliard winced and said, "Even though I face a great defense in practice every day, I have to tip my hat to the Ravens--especially the way I feel."

Said Baltimore defensive tackle Tony Siragusa, "Until you play us, you can't really appreciate the depth of our wrath."

Emotionally, it all stems from Lewis. Players still talk about the day late last season when he missed a practice with a knee injury. Recalled Banks, "The defense was a shell of itself. He came back the next day, and it was great again." When you play the Ravens, Lewises come from everywhere: Marvin, scheming from the sideline; Ray, dominating on defense; rookie running back Jamal, who had 27 carries for 102 yards and a touchdown; and return specialist Jermaine, who instantly closed the Giants' window of hope by answering Dixon's score with an 84-yard kickoff runback for a touchdown and a 24-7 lead. Twenty-four-seven: That's how they work in Ravenland.

Long after the game, as he dressed in a cramped coach's office, Billick seemed anything but arrogant. "For the first time in my life, I think I finally understand the game--I mean, really understand it," he said, his eyes red and half-closed. "This is the ultimate example of how football is not about the star quarterback, the star running back. It's about team. I know it's a cliche, but I'm almost 47 years old and I finally realize it. Had we sailed through without all the problems and we hadn't developed such a sense of team, I don't think we'd have had this success. I'm humbled by it. I know people will hear that and say, 'Aw, that's just Billick pandering to the media.' But it's true."

Two rooms away Ray Lewis stood happily at his locker, wearing a lavender paisley suit and a big grin. He hadn't won over all his critics, but his passionate play made it impossible not to admire him as a football player. Even two of Lewis's former friends, his codefendants who were acquitted in the Atlanta killings, Joseph Sweeting and Reginald Oakley, were in awe of the man who testified for the prosecution last May. Sweeting sat in a club-level suite that included several prominent rappers, including Jay-Z, and Oakley watched from a lower-level seat across the stadium. The two men talked by cell phone during the game. "We had to give it to Ray and to their defense in general, the way they hold people down," Sweeting said at 4 a.m. on the morning after the Super Bowl, as he left a party at a Tampa club. "There's a lot of hurt in our relationship, and a lot of people aren't pleased by the way he treated me. But I was happy for him, because I know this week was no picnic for him."

Millions of football fans weren't thrilled with the events of the week either. But Super Sunday, for better or worse, was Ray Lewis's day in the sun.

This story was originally published in the February 7, 2001 issue of Sports Illustrated