Former Ravens kicker Matt Stover -- now with the Indianapolis Colts -- is the subject of a nice piece by our Ken Murray today. In it, Stover talks about his dual life -- kicking for the Colts while still living in the Baltimore area, where he tries to carve out family time with his wife and children who are 14, 13, and 6.

The mention of the 6-year old made me smile, because in 2003, the Stovers were in a childbirth class with us at Greater Baltimore Medical Center.

It was one of those "refresher" courses -- all of us had had at least one child already -- so the class was as much about helping siblings deal with a new arrival as it was about the mechanics of childbirth.

What struck me about the Stovers, and what still strikes me, is how they didn't call attention to themselves. I remember that when we went around the room to talk about ourselves, Stover said something about "not working right now." Well, it wasn't football season, so I guess that was right.

It wasn't until the second or third session of the class that my husband figured out who Stover was. "That's Matt Stover," he whispered urgently to me as we took our seats that day.

Of course, not being a huge football fan, I was clueless. My husband had to explain to me who this was.

"Go get his autograph," I said. (I know. Stupid. Now, I plead pregnant.)

My husband took umbrage at this. "No way," he said. "We're gonna be cool."

So we treated the Stovers like all the other parents in our class, and didn't say a word. Neither, apparently, did anyone else. And then we went our separate ways to give birth to our babies.

So I'm glad for any news about 6-year-old Joe. I'm sure my 6-year-old Sam wishes his dad well on Saturday, even though he's playing for another team.

(Photo by Baltimore Sun photographer Kenneth Lam)