I was sitting in my living room, listening to the TV, checking my e-mail and conversing with Hannah before trying to do some work. Then, out of nowhere:
"I really think tomorrow night is the most important Cleveland sporting event of my lifetime," I said, kind of to Hannah, but mostly just to the universe at-large.
Hannah questioned me on this statement. Sure, the whole RETURN OF LEBRON!!! storyline is interesting and emotional and all that, but is it more important than all of those other "Most Important Games Ever" that I've watched and been let down by?
Yes. Game 7s, AFC championship games, NBA playoffs — those are all experiences had by any number of teams every year. The hunt for a title is definitely thrilling, but it's not entirely unique. December 2, 2010, is unique. It's our moment and ours alone.
Just what is this moment? It's a moment born entirely from The Decision — all of the failure, embarrassment and bitterness that was wrapped into that TV show. Those aren't new feelings around these parts, but The Decision re-imagined all of them. Gave them new life. December 2, 2010, is the fallout of that moment.
December 2, 2010, is the most important game in my lifetime because, at it's core, it encapsulates the narrative of Cleveland. Here's the scrappy team that was left behind versus the hyped-up, super team, starring the guy that pulled our pants down in front of the whole school. America's favorite punch line versus America. Cleveland never gets a chance to make fun of another city's polluted river; Cleveland never gets the chance to look down on other cities that rank on "Most Miserable Places on Earth" lists. December 2, 2010, is a chance to do that, I think.
December 2, 2010, can be about us. And I'm not saying "this is our moment to show everyone how great and classy we are!" No. F that. Cleveland has a chance to make someone else a punchline; to make someone else look like a buffoon. We can get the last laugh for a change!
I honestly hope a crazy fan attacks LeBron tomorrow. I hope the national media gets another reason to fart on Cleveland's head. Good. That's how it should be. Screw them. December 2, 2010, isn't about playing nice or making friends. This is Cleveland's unique moment in time, and the most important sporting event of my lifetime — with the nation watching — so why waste it by merely booing and cheering? Let's go set a fucking river on fire! And then throw LeBron in it!! Who's with me?!
Go Cavs!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Monday, October 4, 2010
Deconstructing Hillis
The sports scene in Cleveland has some problems right now. That's maybe the most non-bold statement ever written. But here's a bold one: Nothing epitomizes how bad it is more than Peyton Hillis! (Whoooooooooooooooooooooooa)
Yup. Hillis. The only guy on any of our teams that seems to be playing well. I love Hillis. He's a Midwestern-style runner. Tough. He runs through arm tackles the way big strong white dudes run through arm tackles. I'm glad he's on the team, definitely. Best trade ever.
But seriously? Our most notable athlete right now is a big, white running back? Are we rooting for Notre Dame in 1930? What's next? Will Clevelanders start using rotary phones? Employ milkmen? Should I be concerned about the Germans? Why am I the only one seeing this? Legitimately, the best athlete in Cleveland right now is a white fullback. For some reason, I don't think this is a good thing. Call me crazy.
Yup. Hillis. The only guy on any of our teams that seems to be playing well. I love Hillis. He's a Midwestern-style runner. Tough. He runs through arm tackles the way big strong white dudes run through arm tackles. I'm glad he's on the team, definitely. Best trade ever.
But seriously? Our most notable athlete right now is a big, white running back? Are we rooting for Notre Dame in 1930? What's next? Will Clevelanders start using rotary phones? Employ milkmen? Should I be concerned about the Germans? Why am I the only one seeing this? Legitimately, the best athlete in Cleveland right now is a white fullback. For some reason, I don't think this is a good thing. Call me crazy.
It might be dumb that I'm bummed that Hillis is white (and it's probably really dumb that I'm making it reflect on our entire sports scene right now). If this was Montario Hardesty, and he had the exact same games Hillis has had, I'd probably be excited. But I can't get passed it. Hillis is a big white dude, which, inherently limits him at the position, does it not? There's a reason I could make those killer jokes about old-timey things earlier. It's true. White running backs became obsolete as feature backs because over the course of a season, they can't get the job done. I mean, right? Isn't Red Grange on display in the Museum of Natural History?
Do any of you honestly think the best teams in the NFL would be showcasing Peyton Hillis this much? I can't help but feel that when he does bust out for a big run, that a healthy Hardesty or non-disgruntled Harrison (let's not forget he did almost break the single-game rushing record last season) would be doing even better by hitting the whole quicker or making a sharper cut. I know Hillis has had two good games, and I know much of it is due to his unique toughness and powerful style, which definitely brings an added bonus to the team. But ... really?
Do any of you honestly think the best teams in the NFL would be showcasing Peyton Hillis this much? I can't help but feel that when he does bust out for a big run, that a healthy Hardesty or non-disgruntled Harrison (let's not forget he did almost break the single-game rushing record last season) would be doing even better by hitting the whole quicker or making a sharper cut. I know Hillis has had two good games, and I know much of it is due to his unique toughness and powerful style, which definitely brings an added bonus to the team. But ... really?
Here's the facts as I see it. He is a valuable team asset who gets tough yards and punishes the other team. Which is great! I love that! He can definitely have the same level of success as Mike Alstott. That's why I like Hillis. But if I'm watching a team where Mike Alstott is the best player, it makes me want to drink shots of Drain-O. And that's what I'm watching.
Hillis falls into the Casey Blake Theory, and you can't tell me different.
We all remember Casey Blake -- the dude with the cool beard and the big chin who was a mediocre third baseman for the Tribe. Blake became a lightning rod of hate for fans after awhile, and it wasn't because he was a disastrous player (well at least not right away). He wasn't terrible, he was just an average dude on a meager salary that played hard. However, Blake started batting fifth and third in the lineup when he should have been batting eighth or ninth. Batting higher than he should have put him in bigger spots to drive in runs. This wasn't his fault, but fans hated him for not driving in enough runs. That shouldn't have been his role. Being white isn't Hillis' fault either, and neither is the large role he has on the team. But at some point, Hillis' shortcomings will show up. And if they don't, then maybe President Herbert Hoover will attend a game.
I mean .... right?
I mean .... right?
In a vacuum, I like Hillis. In the context of our sports scene right now, and on this Browns team, the idea of him makes me sad. Although, the day I officially declared him overrated, the Baltimore game, he ran for 144 yards and we almost won. And I did it the next week too, and he played well and we won.
So .... like I said .... dude's overrated.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Bold statement: The Tribe is the closest to a title
Well, it’s that time of year where all of Cleveland gets pumped to get let down by the Browns while a small smattering of fans still silently wallow in an Indians depression and drink themselves to sleep. Even the most ardent Indians apologists – like myself – have to admit the team is pathetic right now.
BOLD STATEMENT ALERT!! However, I maintain that the Tribe is the closest Cleveland team to a title. GASP! How can I say this? On what grounds??
Glad you asked ...
Historical precedence:
• The Tribe is bad this year, not unlike how bad the team was in 2002 (74-88) and 2003 (68-94), the last time the team was gutted and rebuilt. By 2005 though, we won 93 games. In 2007, we won 96 and were outs away from the World Series. That may have been a miraculous, once-in-a-lifetime event, but it happened, and it shows that the Dolan/Shapiro Indians have turned things around to near title contention quickly after a pathetic patch of baseball.
• Despite the hope surrounding the Holmgren era, there’s no evidence to show the Browns are closer to a title now than in any other year during this last decade of nothingness. Teams in the NFL can turn around quickly, but still, this is the F’ing Browns, and our mini-2007 run at the playoffs notwithstanding, I’ll believe it when I see it.
• The Cavs? We went to the finals ONCE. And it was with the talents of That Other Player in Miami on the team. Those talents, if I'm not mistaken, are in South Beach, and there's no reason to believe the Cavs will ever get close again without him. Gilbert is an owner willing to sell his grandmother into sex slavery to win a title, but until there is some positive team-building minus No. 6, there's no reason to give them an edge over the Tribe, a team that's contended on rags and a small payroll in the recent past.
MLB v NFL v NBA
• Baseball takes its lumps because it rewards the rich teams and poops in the mouth of the mid-market teams. However, a mid-market team that drafts well, trades its veterans well and has a plan to blend all of its young talent together at the right time always has a chance. The window might be smaller, and it might be less fun, but it’s a window, and it can happen out of nowhere—like Tampa Bay the last few years and San Diego this year (or not at all ... sorry Pirates fans).
The minor league system allows a team to constantly tinker and work toward improvement, and we can all watch and get excited about what might be. Prospects are a gamble, and sometimes (OK, often) I get stupidly excited (like when I was pumped for Trevor Crowe in 2006), but it’s a tangible reason to hope. In baseball, the team's next superstar is actually in the organization, developing. In the other sports, a team's future rests in mock drafts or trade rumors.
• With the NFL, things turn on a dime. Spend money on a free agent and he tears every ligament in his knee on the first snap of the preseason, gets staph infection and dies. The hard salary cap and short shelf life of many players makes continuity difficult. Teams come out of nowhere to succeed in any given year, but those teams often disappear just as quickly. It's much more difficult to forecast the future of an NFL team.
• In the NBA, if you don’t have a superstar, you’re totally screwed. And the only way to get one is to draft one high in the draft. The only way to do that is to suck really bad. And even then, the dude you draft might be an over-sized goof who gets his penis exposed on the Internet while recovering from multiple knew surgeries (sorry Greg Oden). Superstars normally stay with the team that drafts them because of how the NBA is setup. That old adage might be changing, with players taking their talents to other places and whatnot, but even if it is—no superstar is willing coming to Cleveland as a free agent. That much we know.
It’s very easy to be a middle-of-the-road NBA team, and the Cavs might be closer to middle-of-the-road than the Tribe, but they are no where near a title. At all. I dare say the Cavs are the furthest team from a title at this moment.
Playoff chances
• The Browns have to be better than the Steelers and the Ravens in any given year to guarantee a spot in the playoffs. And being better than those teams probably means beating them the four combined times we play them in a season. The Bengals are starting to shape up now too. That's a lot of muscle in one division. But say we get a wild card spot. Then the Browns have to beat three teams just to get to the Super Bowl. In the NFL playoffs, any fluky thing can happen. Luck is a huge factor. Bottom line, there have been XLIII Super Bowls. The Browns have had really good teams at various points during that timespan. We've never been in a Super Bowl. I need more than Jake Delhomme and Mike Holmgren to believe the Browns can get this done. Ever.
• The Cavs' division doesn't really matter. They have the best chance of squeaking into the playoffs in any given year because they are in the East. But squeaking into the NBA playoffs doesn't get a team very far, having to win three seven-game series to get to the championship—without a superstar. (The number one seed doesn't seem to get a team very far either.)
• The Tribe is in the Central Division. It is weaker than Travis Hafner's shoulder. The Tigers and White Sox trade years being mediocre, with neither showing any real team-building plan. The Twins usually are good, but not great, and certainly not rich. The Tribe only has to be better than these teams to make the playoffs. Oh, also, the Royals are a team.
From there, beat a team in a five-game series, another in a seven-game series, and it's time to play in the World Series. Definitely not easy, but it's the easiest of the three routes, I believe.
Team future
• The Cavs' future is impossible to predict because they have a large trade exception, and we’re not entirely sure how bad they will be. No.1-pick-level bad?
Having Gilbert helps, but throwing money at problems hasn’t helped the Knicks and I have as many titles as Mark Cuban. So, that’s no guarantee. Right now, as it stands, we’re pinning our hopes on Mo Williams, 34-year-old Antawn Jameson, JJ Hickson and Andy Varejao. Yikes.
• The Browns appear to be heading in the right direction. Holmgren seems to have a plan and our last draft looked decent. But we still have no QB. Jake Delhomme might be serviceable, but he’s not winning a Super Bowl. Colt McCoy looks like a young Charlie Frye. No QB means no shot. Until that changes, they are not winning a Super Bowl.
• The Tribe might lose 100 games this year, which, in a power ranking, would put them at the bottom of the three teams right now. But I still believe wins and losses this year do not paint a picture of this team’s future, which, unlike the Browns, exists in the organization already. Grady Sizemore and Carlos Santana are both out. Despite Grady’s poor play before the injury and Santana’s youth, those are significant injuries. Seriously, replace Pujols with Lou Marson and see how great the Cardinals look.
I hate to keep throwing my penny into the wishing well that is minor league baseball, but the Tribe still has several top prospects that haven't arrived in Cleveland. If the Indians loses 100 games with Choo, Sizemore, LaPorta, Santana, Cabrera, Weglarz, Chisenhall, Carassco, Carmona, Gomez, Rondon, White, Hagadone, Perez, Gardner, Knapp and so on (give or take a name or two), then I’ll officially give in and say they have no shot at contention and should fold the organization. But with baseball, and with the Tribe, in the Central Division, it’s smarter (and easier, I guess) to have a wider perspective, a longer view of the situation.
One hundred losses or not, I still see seeds that may blossom into a contender. And whether it’s how the leagues are setup or historical precedence, I just don’t see it the same way for our other teams.
There it is. The Tribe is the closest to a title. ... Drink up, everybody! First beers are on me. (Who's getting the next 19,000?)
BOLD STATEMENT ALERT!! However, I maintain that the Tribe is the closest Cleveland team to a title. GASP! How can I say this? On what grounds??
Glad you asked ...
Historical precedence:
• The Tribe is bad this year, not unlike how bad the team was in 2002 (74-88) and 2003 (68-94), the last time the team was gutted and rebuilt. By 2005 though, we won 93 games. In 2007, we won 96 and were outs away from the World Series. That may have been a miraculous, once-in-a-lifetime event, but it happened, and it shows that the Dolan/Shapiro Indians have turned things around to near title contention quickly after a pathetic patch of baseball.
• Despite the hope surrounding the Holmgren era, there’s no evidence to show the Browns are closer to a title now than in any other year during this last decade of nothingness. Teams in the NFL can turn around quickly, but still, this is the F’ing Browns, and our mini-2007 run at the playoffs notwithstanding, I’ll believe it when I see it.
• The Cavs? We went to the finals ONCE. And it was with the talents of That Other Player in Miami on the team. Those talents, if I'm not mistaken, are in South Beach, and there's no reason to believe the Cavs will ever get close again without him. Gilbert is an owner willing to sell his grandmother into sex slavery to win a title, but until there is some positive team-building minus No. 6, there's no reason to give them an edge over the Tribe, a team that's contended on rags and a small payroll in the recent past.
MLB v NFL v NBA
• Baseball takes its lumps because it rewards the rich teams and poops in the mouth of the mid-market teams. However, a mid-market team that drafts well, trades its veterans well and has a plan to blend all of its young talent together at the right time always has a chance. The window might be smaller, and it might be less fun, but it’s a window, and it can happen out of nowhere—like Tampa Bay the last few years and San Diego this year (or not at all ... sorry Pirates fans).
The minor league system allows a team to constantly tinker and work toward improvement, and we can all watch and get excited about what might be. Prospects are a gamble, and sometimes (OK, often) I get stupidly excited (like when I was pumped for Trevor Crowe in 2006), but it’s a tangible reason to hope. In baseball, the team's next superstar is actually in the organization, developing. In the other sports, a team's future rests in mock drafts or trade rumors.
• With the NFL, things turn on a dime. Spend money on a free agent and he tears every ligament in his knee on the first snap of the preseason, gets staph infection and dies. The hard salary cap and short shelf life of many players makes continuity difficult. Teams come out of nowhere to succeed in any given year, but those teams often disappear just as quickly. It's much more difficult to forecast the future of an NFL team.
• In the NBA, if you don’t have a superstar, you’re totally screwed. And the only way to get one is to draft one high in the draft. The only way to do that is to suck really bad. And even then, the dude you draft might be an over-sized goof who gets his penis exposed on the Internet while recovering from multiple knew surgeries (sorry Greg Oden). Superstars normally stay with the team that drafts them because of how the NBA is setup. That old adage might be changing, with players taking their talents to other places and whatnot, but even if it is—no superstar is willing coming to Cleveland as a free agent. That much we know.
It’s very easy to be a middle-of-the-road NBA team, and the Cavs might be closer to middle-of-the-road than the Tribe, but they are no where near a title. At all. I dare say the Cavs are the furthest team from a title at this moment.
Playoff chances
• The Browns have to be better than the Steelers and the Ravens in any given year to guarantee a spot in the playoffs. And being better than those teams probably means beating them the four combined times we play them in a season. The Bengals are starting to shape up now too. That's a lot of muscle in one division. But say we get a wild card spot. Then the Browns have to beat three teams just to get to the Super Bowl. In the NFL playoffs, any fluky thing can happen. Luck is a huge factor. Bottom line, there have been XLIII Super Bowls. The Browns have had really good teams at various points during that timespan. We've never been in a Super Bowl. I need more than Jake Delhomme and Mike Holmgren to believe the Browns can get this done. Ever.
• The Cavs' division doesn't really matter. They have the best chance of squeaking into the playoffs in any given year because they are in the East. But squeaking into the NBA playoffs doesn't get a team very far, having to win three seven-game series to get to the championship—without a superstar. (The number one seed doesn't seem to get a team very far either.)
• The Tribe is in the Central Division. It is weaker than Travis Hafner's shoulder. The Tigers and White Sox trade years being mediocre, with neither showing any real team-building plan. The Twins usually are good, but not great, and certainly not rich. The Tribe only has to be better than these teams to make the playoffs. Oh, also, the Royals are a team.
From there, beat a team in a five-game series, another in a seven-game series, and it's time to play in the World Series. Definitely not easy, but it's the easiest of the three routes, I believe.
Team future
• The Cavs' future is impossible to predict because they have a large trade exception, and we’re not entirely sure how bad they will be. No.1-pick-level bad?
Having Gilbert helps, but throwing money at problems hasn’t helped the Knicks and I have as many titles as Mark Cuban. So, that’s no guarantee. Right now, as it stands, we’re pinning our hopes on Mo Williams, 34-year-old Antawn Jameson, JJ Hickson and Andy Varejao. Yikes.
• The Browns appear to be heading in the right direction. Holmgren seems to have a plan and our last draft looked decent. But we still have no QB. Jake Delhomme might be serviceable, but he’s not winning a Super Bowl. Colt McCoy looks like a young Charlie Frye. No QB means no shot. Until that changes, they are not winning a Super Bowl.
• The Tribe might lose 100 games this year, which, in a power ranking, would put them at the bottom of the three teams right now. But I still believe wins and losses this year do not paint a picture of this team’s future, which, unlike the Browns, exists in the organization already. Grady Sizemore and Carlos Santana are both out. Despite Grady’s poor play before the injury and Santana’s youth, those are significant injuries. Seriously, replace Pujols with Lou Marson and see how great the Cardinals look.
I hate to keep throwing my penny into the wishing well that is minor league baseball, but the Tribe still has several top prospects that haven't arrived in Cleveland. If the Indians loses 100 games with Choo, Sizemore, LaPorta, Santana, Cabrera, Weglarz, Chisenhall, Carassco, Carmona, Gomez, Rondon, White, Hagadone, Perez, Gardner, Knapp and so on (give or take a name or two), then I’ll officially give in and say they have no shot at contention and should fold the organization. But with baseball, and with the Tribe, in the Central Division, it’s smarter (and easier, I guess) to have a wider perspective, a longer view of the situation.
One hundred losses or not, I still see seeds that may blossom into a contender. And whether it’s how the leagues are setup or historical precedence, I just don’t see it the same way for our other teams.
There it is. The Tribe is the closest to a title. ... Drink up, everybody! First beers are on me. (Who's getting the next 19,000?)
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Seriously, No. 6, don't ever come back to Cleveland
Ok, he brought it up, so let's talk about it. If That Other Player in Miami ever, in a million years, ever came back to the Cavs—I would never, in a million years, ever root for him.
I'm the guy who openly admits he would root for a convicted animal rapist as long as he was wearing a Cleveland uniform. That's the job as a fan, to root for the laundry. Charles Manson just got signed as the Browns' punter? Awesome. Hope he does good. Dick Cheney is going to be the Indians' DH? Hope he drives in some runs!
But if No. 6 ever, in a million years, ever came back to play for Cleveland—hell, if he played for the F'ing Lake County Captains—I would refuse to support the team.
Yes, I said it. That's an occasion where hate trumps laundry. Would you root for Art Modell if he came back to be the president of the Browns? I mean, you'd root for the Browns, I guess, but you'd want Modell to get hit by a bus, right? Well, No. 6 would be playing for the Cavs. On the court. The only way for him to fail is for the team to fail. The conflict of interest is so great, I would honestly divorce from the team until he was gone. I'd never watch him play in our uniform again.
Never! F you, No. 6. You're a piece of shit. You may be joking about all of this and acting like it would be a cute story if you came back and played on our team some day, but it's not funny and it's not cute. It's F'ing disgusting. It makes me want to punch your throat even harder than I do now. And if I discussed how hard I already want to punch your throat with a physicist, I'd be told that it's A) impossible for me to ever punch that hard, and B) You can't disembowel someone from a punch to the throat. So, yeah, I'd want to punch you harder than THAT if you came back to the Cavs, you back-stabbing douchebag.
You just don't get it. You hated Cleveland when you were 5 years old, so you treat our fine city indifferently now. Well, how nice and myopic of you. Just another town to take your talents to, right? Wrong, you dumb shit! F you. Never once, in your professional life (which for us, started when you were 15) did we ever treat you less than a god. We loved you unconditionally. You could have murdered a room full of puppies when you were 16, but if you just stayed here in Cleveland and said you liked us, we wouldn't have cared. But guess what? You F'd us. And you couldn't have cared less. And you did it on F'ing national TV no less. So, if you ever do come back, it's not some sort of Disney fairy tale to us. It's an insult. It's an afterthought. It's you saying "F it, [No. 6] ain't got nothing better to do, so we're going back to Cleveland."
What's done is done. We shouldn't have loved you that much in the first place, and we know that now. You "hated" Cleveland because we stole your favorite stuffed animal when you were in kindergarten or something, and we know that now too. You never gave a shit about us. So, in turn, never, in a million years, ever will we love you again. Keep your talents in South Beach. Win titles. Or don't. Whatever. Just be sure to F off and stay out of Cleveland. That's all I want out of you for the next million or so years.
Go Cavs.
I'm the guy who openly admits he would root for a convicted animal rapist as long as he was wearing a Cleveland uniform. That's the job as a fan, to root for the laundry. Charles Manson just got signed as the Browns' punter? Awesome. Hope he does good. Dick Cheney is going to be the Indians' DH? Hope he drives in some runs!
But if No. 6 ever, in a million years, ever came back to play for Cleveland—hell, if he played for the F'ing Lake County Captains—I would refuse to support the team.
Yes, I said it. That's an occasion where hate trumps laundry. Would you root for Art Modell if he came back to be the president of the Browns? I mean, you'd root for the Browns, I guess, but you'd want Modell to get hit by a bus, right? Well, No. 6 would be playing for the Cavs. On the court. The only way for him to fail is for the team to fail. The conflict of interest is so great, I would honestly divorce from the team until he was gone. I'd never watch him play in our uniform again.
Never! F you, No. 6. You're a piece of shit. You may be joking about all of this and acting like it would be a cute story if you came back and played on our team some day, but it's not funny and it's not cute. It's F'ing disgusting. It makes me want to punch your throat even harder than I do now. And if I discussed how hard I already want to punch your throat with a physicist, I'd be told that it's A) impossible for me to ever punch that hard, and B) You can't disembowel someone from a punch to the throat. So, yeah, I'd want to punch you harder than THAT if you came back to the Cavs, you back-stabbing douchebag.
You just don't get it. You hated Cleveland when you were 5 years old, so you treat our fine city indifferently now. Well, how nice and myopic of you. Just another town to take your talents to, right? Wrong, you dumb shit! F you. Never once, in your professional life (which for us, started when you were 15) did we ever treat you less than a god. We loved you unconditionally. You could have murdered a room full of puppies when you were 16, but if you just stayed here in Cleveland and said you liked us, we wouldn't have cared. But guess what? You F'd us. And you couldn't have cared less. And you did it on F'ing national TV no less. So, if you ever do come back, it's not some sort of Disney fairy tale to us. It's an insult. It's an afterthought. It's you saying "F it, [No. 6] ain't got nothing better to do, so we're going back to Cleveland."
What's done is done. We shouldn't have loved you that much in the first place, and we know that now. You "hated" Cleveland because we stole your favorite stuffed animal when you were in kindergarten or something, and we know that now too. You never gave a shit about us. So, in turn, never, in a million years, ever will we love you again. Keep your talents in South Beach. Win titles. Or don't. Whatever. Just be sure to F off and stay out of Cleveland. That's all I want out of you for the next million or so years.
Go Cavs.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Cleveland sports forecast 2010-2011: The quest for .500
It's been almost a month since LeBetrayal. And LeBitterness is still palpable, but LeReality is setting in about the Cleveland sports scene. Grab a helmet or bite down on a leather strap because we're about to discuss it.
In a post awhile ago I pointed out that as much-maligned and miserable us Cleveland fans often feel, there hasn't been too many years since the late '80s where at least one of our teams wasn't decent enough to flirt with the playoffs. As a fan, that's all you really ask for - flirtation and a few moments of fun. Asking for a championship is silly. Would you also like a unicorn and a leprechaun's pot of gold?
After That Other Player in Miami took our scorn to South Beach, he effectively murdered this streak. The other day I asked my friends an unfortunately compelling question: When is the next time a Cleveland team will go over .500? Don't think about it too much or you'll start sobbing uncontrollably. My guess is the Indians next season. Just barely. And I don't even really believe that. The best bet is maybe the Browns NEXT season. Oof. Relying on the Browns to make you happy is like relying on Brendan Fraser to make a good movie.
As the 2010 Browns season draws near, let's take stock of each new season coming up and look into the TCF crystal ball. I'll give the most optimistic outlook I can for each team. However, we all know the most optimistic forecast never happens, and any Cleveland-team outcome is about 20 percent worse than first anticipated, so then I'll factor in that 20 percent and predict how the season will actually end. Will we have a .500 season in the bunch?
Cleveland Sports Forecast 2010-2011
Browns
Preseason optimism: Under Mike Holmgren and Tom Heckert, the Browns seem to have had their best draft in a long time. The top picks will play in some capacity right away and add to a core that improved at the end of last year. Four-game win streak! Don't forget that. The defense is solid with free agent additions to the secondary and linebackers. With a healthy Shaun Rogers, an improved defensive line will get that much better. On offense, we finally seem to have a philosophy. We're going to run the ball, run the ball and run the ball—just the way football was meant to be played. We have serious depth at running back, our offensive line is great and that doesn't even count the versatility of Josh Cribbs and Seneca Wallace in the wildcat. Brian Robiskie is playing well too - Terry Pluto said so!
This team honestly could flirt with .500 this season or be one of those Where Did This Team Come From?! stories that come around every year.
Predicted Bitter Outcome: Notice how I left Jake Delhomme out of the optimistic part? That wasn't an oversight. Dude's a stiff. If your QB is a stiff, your team sucks.
7-9
Cavaliers
Preseason optimism: New coach, new vision, up-tempo offensive style, playing to our strengths, lessened expectations—these things lead to surprisingly fun years. Byron Scott is the master of the rebuild. Players buy into his system early on and play together. The team still has Mo Williams, Antawn Jamison and Anderson Varejao. Ramon Sessions is a sneaky good addition at PG for this new uptempo style of play. JJ Hickson keeps getting better and will be helped immensely with the new style. Same for Boobie Gibson who actually played decent last year, finally, but was buried on the bench. Add in Jamario Moon and Anthony Parker, and the team is small but versatile. And in the East, teams like this sneak into the playoffs all of the time. And you can't discount the bonuses of removing headcase Delonte West, washed-up Shaq and team whore Gloria James.
Predicted Bitter Outcome: Just shoot me in the face. That Other Player in Miami was right about one thing, he spoiled us. This year, grabbing the eight seed would be a big accomplishment, one that would mean a lot to this city—the scrappy team that got left behind gritting out some tough wins and succeeding. It's such a nice little story there's no way it happens.
30-52
Indians
Preseason optimism: I'm ALREADY jacked for the 2011 Tribe. This team will more closely resemble our new shot at contention. It won't be fully formed, and there will be some growing pains, but it's a team that will get better. Our lineup will be fun to watch. Nick Weglarz will hit 35 homeruns. Carlos Santana will have an OPS over 1.000. Shin Soo Choo will do everything great, as always. Cabrera will be healthy. Matt LaPorta will be a steady middle of the order guy. Maybe Lonnie Chisenhall makes an appearance at some point. Hey, maybe Grady Sizemore stays healthy and returns to form. I'm telling you, this team will hit. And the bullpen is starting to be decent. For real this time. I could see them just nudge over .500 and win 80-some games.
Predicted Bitter Outcome: The starting pitching will be lackluster for most of the season. Our best young arms are still too far away. Our former best young arms all underwhelm when given a shot, especially without any steady veterans to help end short losing streaks. And I'm sure the lineup performs worse than I expect as well. Sizemore will either snap his femur or play well and get traded. And the bullpen will assuredly fall apart once again.
73-89
Welp. There it is. A full calendar year of unfun teams. Makes me want to barf. Unless you consider a 7-9 Browns team fun. Which I do. Which probably means they'll be 6-10. At best.
Go teams.
In a post awhile ago I pointed out that as much-maligned and miserable us Cleveland fans often feel, there hasn't been too many years since the late '80s where at least one of our teams wasn't decent enough to flirt with the playoffs. As a fan, that's all you really ask for - flirtation and a few moments of fun. Asking for a championship is silly. Would you also like a unicorn and a leprechaun's pot of gold?
After That Other Player in Miami took our scorn to South Beach, he effectively murdered this streak. The other day I asked my friends an unfortunately compelling question: When is the next time a Cleveland team will go over .500? Don't think about it too much or you'll start sobbing uncontrollably. My guess is the Indians next season. Just barely. And I don't even really believe that. The best bet is maybe the Browns NEXT season. Oof. Relying on the Browns to make you happy is like relying on Brendan Fraser to make a good movie.
As the 2010 Browns season draws near, let's take stock of each new season coming up and look into the TCF crystal ball. I'll give the most optimistic outlook I can for each team. However, we all know the most optimistic forecast never happens, and any Cleveland-team outcome is about 20 percent worse than first anticipated, so then I'll factor in that 20 percent and predict how the season will actually end. Will we have a .500 season in the bunch?
Cleveland Sports Forecast 2010-2011
Browns
Preseason optimism: Under Mike Holmgren and Tom Heckert, the Browns seem to have had their best draft in a long time. The top picks will play in some capacity right away and add to a core that improved at the end of last year. Four-game win streak! Don't forget that. The defense is solid with free agent additions to the secondary and linebackers. With a healthy Shaun Rogers, an improved defensive line will get that much better. On offense, we finally seem to have a philosophy. We're going to run the ball, run the ball and run the ball—just the way football was meant to be played. We have serious depth at running back, our offensive line is great and that doesn't even count the versatility of Josh Cribbs and Seneca Wallace in the wildcat. Brian Robiskie is playing well too - Terry Pluto said so!
This team honestly could flirt with .500 this season or be one of those Where Did This Team Come From?! stories that come around every year.
Predicted Bitter Outcome: Notice how I left Jake Delhomme out of the optimistic part? That wasn't an oversight. Dude's a stiff. If your QB is a stiff, your team sucks.
7-9
Cavaliers
Preseason optimism: New coach, new vision, up-tempo offensive style, playing to our strengths, lessened expectations—these things lead to surprisingly fun years. Byron Scott is the master of the rebuild. Players buy into his system early on and play together. The team still has Mo Williams, Antawn Jamison and Anderson Varejao. Ramon Sessions is a sneaky good addition at PG for this new uptempo style of play. JJ Hickson keeps getting better and will be helped immensely with the new style. Same for Boobie Gibson who actually played decent last year, finally, but was buried on the bench. Add in Jamario Moon and Anthony Parker, and the team is small but versatile. And in the East, teams like this sneak into the playoffs all of the time. And you can't discount the bonuses of removing headcase Delonte West, washed-up Shaq and team whore Gloria James.
Predicted Bitter Outcome: Just shoot me in the face. That Other Player in Miami was right about one thing, he spoiled us. This year, grabbing the eight seed would be a big accomplishment, one that would mean a lot to this city—the scrappy team that got left behind gritting out some tough wins and succeeding. It's such a nice little story there's no way it happens.
30-52
Indians
Preseason optimism: I'm ALREADY jacked for the 2011 Tribe. This team will more closely resemble our new shot at contention. It won't be fully formed, and there will be some growing pains, but it's a team that will get better. Our lineup will be fun to watch. Nick Weglarz will hit 35 homeruns. Carlos Santana will have an OPS over 1.000. Shin Soo Choo will do everything great, as always. Cabrera will be healthy. Matt LaPorta will be a steady middle of the order guy. Maybe Lonnie Chisenhall makes an appearance at some point. Hey, maybe Grady Sizemore stays healthy and returns to form. I'm telling you, this team will hit. And the bullpen is starting to be decent. For real this time. I could see them just nudge over .500 and win 80-some games.
Predicted Bitter Outcome: The starting pitching will be lackluster for most of the season. Our best young arms are still too far away. Our former best young arms all underwhelm when given a shot, especially without any steady veterans to help end short losing streaks. And I'm sure the lineup performs worse than I expect as well. Sizemore will either snap his femur or play well and get traded. And the bullpen will assuredly fall apart once again.
73-89
Welp. There it is. A full calendar year of unfun teams. Makes me want to barf. Unless you consider a 7-9 Browns team fun. Which I do. Which probably means they'll be 6-10. At best.
Go teams.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Depressing/hopeful/realistic thoughts on the Tribe in 2010
Ever just start thinking about the 2007 ALCS and then go into a day-long depression? Yup, thought so. Happened to me yesterday.
I started thinking about it because Kenny Lofton is back in town to be inducted into the Indians Hall of Fame. I love Kenny Lofton - unconditionally. It's the type of love I had for That Other Player in Miami before I hated him unconditionally. It's the type of love I have for Josh Cribbs. But my love for Lofton is a little bit stronger because Lofton was my first favorite player. Well, I guess technically Cory Snyder was my FIRST favorite player, but at that time, I'm pretty sure I couldn't tell you what position he played.
I know that Lofton was (allegedly) an a-hole to the media and in the locker room, but I could give a flying turd about that. To young Chris, Lofton was just the man. Slapping basehits, stealing bases, rudely laying his bat down on home plate and immediately taking his gloves off after ball four—everything the guy did was cool. Remember THAT catch?? Remember when he came home from second on that wild pitch????? Remember when we signed him back in 2007 - to combine old school and new school to win a World Series???
F.
Seriously, WTF. Up 3-1, at home, with our big, fat ace on the mound. Having fun, throwin' pies. ... And the next thing I know, JD Effing Drew hits a grand slam; Joel Skinner is telling Kenny Lofton to NOT score the tying run in Game 7; Casey Blake immediately grounds into a double play; Boston scores 37 runs in two innings and it's over. It's the type of memory that causes intentional traffic accidents.
A lot of people out there in Tribe Land seem to forget this happened, even though it was just three seasons ago. It still feels like yesterday to me. It makes me cry, but it's the reason I refuse to get down about the Dolan/Shaprio regime. To me, it's proof that the process works.
Unfortunately, the years after are proof that there's no margin for error. Our core players disappointed and the payroll increases didn't improve the team. Those issues, combined with low attendance, poor drafts and a weak farm system meant it was time to start over again. Keeping Cliff Lee and Victor Martinez would not have helped this team any more than keeping Bartolo Colon in 2003. We had those guys, and we weren't good. There's no sense keeping those players, so we flipped them and restocked the minor league pipeline. In the end, baseball is about development. That's why there are six minor league teams in the states and a few teams located in Latin America. You can't get sentimental about favorite guys any more or sit around waiting for the flash-in-the-pans to find it again—at least not in Cleveland.
So here we are. A lost year. A year of development. Yet, thinking of the 2007 ALCS depresses me much more than watching the 2010 Tribe. Why? Because 2007-2009 was a swing and a miss. It was a strikeout. We came close, went for it and failed. Bummer.
2010 is the start of a new at-bat. The key being the word "start." The 2010 Tribe is only about one-third of the way into building a revamped roster and a new run at contention. I'm only concerned with: Carlos Santana, Shin-Soo Choo, Matt LaPorta, Asdrubal Cabrera, possibly Fausto Carmona and maybe--maybe--Grady Sizemore. The rest of the team should be filled out with: 3B Lonnie Chisenhall, OF Michael Brantley, 1B/OF Nick Weglarz, 2B Jason Kipnis, P Alex White, P Jason Knapp, P Nick Hagadone, P Kevin De la Cruz, P Carlos Carrasco, P Hector Rondon or a few other guys working their way up the ladder. We're only three years removed from a playoff run and only one year into development. I enjoy watching the process in motion.
Clearly, this is not a sure thing. These guys might not pan out, and the Tribe's plan may leave us like the Pirates instead of the Rays or Twins (two teams without a World Series title, by the way)—but isn't that the case with any plan? The Cavs had a plan too, of signing every last guy to piece together a championship team on the fly, and that didn't work either. Sometimes plans don't work, no matter how logical they may be. So sit back and see what happens. You never know when the next Kenny Lofton will come driving up I-71.
Hey, if it doesn't workout by 2012, the end of the world ought to ease the suffocating sense of misery.
Go Tribe.
I started thinking about it because Kenny Lofton is back in town to be inducted into the Indians Hall of Fame. I love Kenny Lofton - unconditionally. It's the type of love I had for That Other Player in Miami before I hated him unconditionally. It's the type of love I have for Josh Cribbs. But my love for Lofton is a little bit stronger because Lofton was my first favorite player. Well, I guess technically Cory Snyder was my FIRST favorite player, but at that time, I'm pretty sure I couldn't tell you what position he played.
I know that Lofton was (allegedly) an a-hole to the media and in the locker room, but I could give a flying turd about that. To young Chris, Lofton was just the man. Slapping basehits, stealing bases, rudely laying his bat down on home plate and immediately taking his gloves off after ball four—everything the guy did was cool. Remember THAT catch?? Remember when he came home from second on that wild pitch????? Remember when we signed him back in 2007 - to combine old school and new school to win a World Series???
F.
Seriously, WTF. Up 3-1, at home, with our big, fat ace on the mound. Having fun, throwin' pies. ... And the next thing I know, JD Effing Drew hits a grand slam; Joel Skinner is telling Kenny Lofton to NOT score the tying run in Game 7; Casey Blake immediately grounds into a double play; Boston scores 37 runs in two innings and it's over. It's the type of memory that causes intentional traffic accidents.
A lot of people out there in Tribe Land seem to forget this happened, even though it was just three seasons ago. It still feels like yesterday to me. It makes me cry, but it's the reason I refuse to get down about the Dolan/Shaprio regime. To me, it's proof that the process works.
Unfortunately, the years after are proof that there's no margin for error. Our core players disappointed and the payroll increases didn't improve the team. Those issues, combined with low attendance, poor drafts and a weak farm system meant it was time to start over again. Keeping Cliff Lee and Victor Martinez would not have helped this team any more than keeping Bartolo Colon in 2003. We had those guys, and we weren't good. There's no sense keeping those players, so we flipped them and restocked the minor league pipeline. In the end, baseball is about development. That's why there are six minor league teams in the states and a few teams located in Latin America. You can't get sentimental about favorite guys any more or sit around waiting for the flash-in-the-pans to find it again—at least not in Cleveland.
So here we are. A lost year. A year of development. Yet, thinking of the 2007 ALCS depresses me much more than watching the 2010 Tribe. Why? Because 2007-2009 was a swing and a miss. It was a strikeout. We came close, went for it and failed. Bummer.
2010 is the start of a new at-bat. The key being the word "start." The 2010 Tribe is only about one-third of the way into building a revamped roster and a new run at contention. I'm only concerned with: Carlos Santana, Shin-Soo Choo, Matt LaPorta, Asdrubal Cabrera, possibly Fausto Carmona and maybe--maybe--Grady Sizemore. The rest of the team should be filled out with: 3B Lonnie Chisenhall, OF Michael Brantley, 1B/OF Nick Weglarz, 2B Jason Kipnis, P Alex White, P Jason Knapp, P Nick Hagadone, P Kevin De la Cruz, P Carlos Carrasco, P Hector Rondon or a few other guys working their way up the ladder. We're only three years removed from a playoff run and only one year into development. I enjoy watching the process in motion.
Clearly, this is not a sure thing. These guys might not pan out, and the Tribe's plan may leave us like the Pirates instead of the Rays or Twins (two teams without a World Series title, by the way)—but isn't that the case with any plan? The Cavs had a plan too, of signing every last guy to piece together a championship team on the fly, and that didn't work either. Sometimes plans don't work, no matter how logical they may be. So sit back and see what happens. You never know when the next Kenny Lofton will come driving up I-71.
Hey, if it doesn't workout by 2012, the end of the world ought to ease the suffocating sense of misery.
Go Tribe.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
In the wake of The Decision, I'm calling out Cleveland fans
There's not much vitriol left in the atmosphere to write about how much I now despise That Other Player in Miami. Most sports writers out there have already done an exemplary job. All I'll say to finalize the moment, as the cherry on the diahrrea, is I now would rather makeout with Joakim Noah than ever watch That Other Player in Miami win another game. I'd rather bomb an abortion clinic with Tim Tebow than see That Other Player in Miami experience even the slightest bit of joy. I would rather put on a Kendrick Perkins jersey, fly to Boston and root for the Celtics before I would ever NOT throw batteries at That Other Player in Miami's head. I don't even know if that last one makes sense, but as Dan Gilbert proved, hate trumps grammar and mechanics sometimes.
But I'm not here to talk about that. One reason is, I'm actually enjoying hating That Other Player in Miami. It's been a lot of fun thus far. Everyone is doing it! If you're NOT writing a column about how much a douchebag No.6 is, then you just aren't cool. If you haven't burned a No.23 jersey, you're a prude.
If he had the balls and ego enough to do what he did, if he wanted "take his game to South Beach" that bad, then F him.
And this is where my real point begins. I don't think enough Cleveland fans really believe those words. We will all say "F him!! I hate that guy!" But when the Cavs season rolls around, when we all really have the chance to make a statement, we won't.
What statement is that? Continuing to go and support the Cavs, for better and worse. For as much as we all want That Other Player in Miami to drink battery acid and die, he was the only reason so many people went to Cavs games. Did you read one of those "Cleveland will lose so much money when he leaves" stories? Well, they probably were right. And the fact that they probably were right pisses me off more than The Decision.
That Other Player in Miami doesn't have to cost the city money. The Decision doesn't have to END BASKETBALL IN CLEVELAND! But since this city is full of fair weather fans, it just might. And that pisses me off.
Remember after Sept. 11, when people quit shopping and the government started curtailing our freedom, there was the cry "Don't do that or the terrorists will win!" That's how I feel about our situation now. When the fair weather fans in this city feel sorry of themselves or lose interest because the team is losing, That Other Player in Miami wins.
How many titles did we win before LeBron (since '64)? Zero. How many did we win with LeBron? Zero. How many will we win after LeBron? .... Well, clearly the answer will still be zero. But so what? If the answer is always zero, and yet fans still turned out in droves to watch That Other Player in Miami, why stop turning out now? This might sound too philosophical and bit absurd, but winning 61 games in the regular season, at a certain point, isn't any different than winning 17. You can still have beers before the game. You can still cheer and boo during the game. You can still have beers after the game and enjoy the camaraderie of a city, win or lose. And in both scenarios we still lose in the end. This is more about being in a brotherhood with your fellow sports fan than it is about some final ultimate glory.
Clevelanders readily admit that we suck and we don't win and all that, and yet when a team has no chance—when it's blatantly Clevelandesque, like the Tribe—we don't go. It's too much to bare. It's no fun. Well, that's dumb. Either you are with us or against us. Either you only cared about That Other Player in Miami or you care about Cleveland. Either you will now quit following the Cavs or you will be a stand-up human being and drink beer downtown.
Please, feel free to bitch and moan. Feel free to hate That Other Player in Miami and any other traitor that leaves our city. But please don't quit the Cavs (just as you've done with the Tribe). That Player didn't blow up the arena. It's still there, with seats and everything. Don't contribute to the demise of downtown. Go to games and be a Clevelander. If not now, when the team isn't good ... when?
Not satisfied with that? Don't care about the tradition, loyalty and camaraderie? You want to see a championship? Then move. Or build a time machine. I'm sure 1948 will be very impressed with your iPhone.
Go Cavs.
But I'm not here to talk about that. One reason is, I'm actually enjoying hating That Other Player in Miami. It's been a lot of fun thus far. Everyone is doing it! If you're NOT writing a column about how much a douchebag No.6 is, then you just aren't cool. If you haven't burned a No.23 jersey, you're a prude.
If he had the balls and ego enough to do what he did, if he wanted "take his game to South Beach" that bad, then F him.
And this is where my real point begins. I don't think enough Cleveland fans really believe those words. We will all say "F him!! I hate that guy!" But when the Cavs season rolls around, when we all really have the chance to make a statement, we won't.
What statement is that? Continuing to go and support the Cavs, for better and worse. For as much as we all want That Other Player in Miami to drink battery acid and die, he was the only reason so many people went to Cavs games. Did you read one of those "Cleveland will lose so much money when he leaves" stories? Well, they probably were right. And the fact that they probably were right pisses me off more than The Decision.
That Other Player in Miami doesn't have to cost the city money. The Decision doesn't have to END BASKETBALL IN CLEVELAND! But since this city is full of fair weather fans, it just might. And that pisses me off.
Remember after Sept. 11, when people quit shopping and the government started curtailing our freedom, there was the cry "Don't do that or the terrorists will win!" That's how I feel about our situation now. When the fair weather fans in this city feel sorry of themselves or lose interest because the team is losing, That Other Player in Miami wins.
How many titles did we win before LeBron (since '64)? Zero. How many did we win with LeBron? Zero. How many will we win after LeBron? .... Well, clearly the answer will still be zero. But so what? If the answer is always zero, and yet fans still turned out in droves to watch That Other Player in Miami, why stop turning out now? This might sound too philosophical and bit absurd, but winning 61 games in the regular season, at a certain point, isn't any different than winning 17. You can still have beers before the game. You can still cheer and boo during the game. You can still have beers after the game and enjoy the camaraderie of a city, win or lose. And in both scenarios we still lose in the end. This is more about being in a brotherhood with your fellow sports fan than it is about some final ultimate glory.
Clevelanders readily admit that we suck and we don't win and all that, and yet when a team has no chance—when it's blatantly Clevelandesque, like the Tribe—we don't go. It's too much to bare. It's no fun. Well, that's dumb. Either you are with us or against us. Either you only cared about That Other Player in Miami or you care about Cleveland. Either you will now quit following the Cavs or you will be a stand-up human being and drink beer downtown.
Please, feel free to bitch and moan. Feel free to hate That Other Player in Miami and any other traitor that leaves our city. But please don't quit the Cavs (just as you've done with the Tribe). That Player didn't blow up the arena. It's still there, with seats and everything. Don't contribute to the demise of downtown. Go to games and be a Clevelander. If not now, when the team isn't good ... when?
Not satisfied with that? Don't care about the tradition, loyalty and camaraderie? You want to see a championship? Then move. Or build a time machine. I'm sure 1948 will be very impressed with your iPhone.
Go Cavs.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Aaaaahhhh!!: My time line of LeBron emotions
Here's a quick time line of my life on The Decision Eve:
6:30. Woke up feeling good. Been riding a high ever since going down to the Fan Tunnel on Saturday. The vibe in the city felt positive and supportive. It felt very un-Cleveland, and that vibe has stayed with me. At this point, I fully believe LeBron will stay. I have a theory on why.
8:30. Eating my oatmeal by the filing cabinets and I debut my theory. Here goes: LeBron is staying in Cleveland, and he's always wanted to stay here. So why do all of this free agency stuff? Just to show he could. Instead of driving and around NYC and Miami and Chicago, he said F you, come to Cleveland and tell me why I should leave. He wore sweat pants and a t-shirts. Why? Because F you, I'm LeBron James, you need me, I don't need you. He saw the signs; he felt the love. The primetime TV show announcing his decision? F you, I'm going to do this because I can. Because people will honestly tune in just to watch me pick a team. All of this elaborately shows that even from Cleveland, he can host a primetime TV show based around anything he wants.
8:35. Heard Bosh is signing with Miami. This could have derailed my optimism, but I still don't buy it. I've got my theory after all. And my Home sign. How could he leave us behind? Not buying it.
8:36. Fuck Chris Bosh. Why is he so great? I'm going to throw batteries at him when the Heat come to town.
9:30. Tell my theory a few more times. Feeling good.
10:45. Feel like making a bet with a co-worker. I'm POSITIVE LeBron will stay. I'll put any amount on it. We'll discuss parameters at lunch.
11:00. After a variety of LeBron emails, none with any real importance, all of a sudden, without warning, all of my confidence drained. I read LeBron's name in a subject line and then envisioned this primetime show tomorrow. Here is what happened in my brain:
LeBron. Primetime. Cleveland. Sports. Big stage. Life-altering decision. Potentially crippling. Sports. Cleveland. Cleveland. Big stage. Whole world watching ...... Um, why am I so confident?????
And just as I thought this, a co-worker sends this email: "Full Panic Mode."
Gulp.
12:30. At lunch. Non-stop LeBron talk. Some hopeful voices. Many panicked voices. Some angry voices. A decent peach. Still in full panic mode.
2:00. Read a blog post that says Cavs are one of several teams pushing hard for Carlos Boozer in a last second attempt to woo James. Wow. So many feelings. Is it possible that the Cavs pull off a sign and trade, get Boozer and then LeBron leaves!!! That would mean in 2011 I have to root for Carlos Boozer and NOT LeBron James. Fuck me. In the ass. No lube.
3:00. Read a good column on SI.com. He echoes thoughts I had earlier: Does LeBron James really have the balls to call a live press conference in primetime just to tell the city of Cleveland to fuck off? I say no. Horrible public relations decision... Feeling a little better.
3:30. Read a damning column about LeBron on Yahoo. Very well written. So well written that I kind of hate LeBron right now. I kind of feel like I want him to leave just so I can hate him and call him an egotistical douchebag. I kind of want to root against him for the rest of my life and tell my grandkids about how much I hate him.
3:31. I snap out of it a little. Just going to hold onto that hatred for tomorrow night.
4:45. Listening to talk radio. Hear Boozer signs with the Bulls. Kind of a relief. But yet another reason for LeBron to leave. Ugh. I'd call this a circus, but the circus is fun. This is more like a dropping of Agent Orange.
5:15. Hear LeBron or his marketing firm (unsure which from the two friends I spoke to) has filed to change addresses to Chicago. That is factual. No rumor or opinion here. There was a change of address. Yet again, and with anger—wow. Would LeBron really go THAT far just to throw us off the scent? Is it a red herring? For the sake of my fist and living room wall tomorrow night, I hope so. But this revelation really rocks me. Not good times.
7:00. Conversation with a buddy on the phone. Talk was very depressing. We hate this. We hate that. We are throwing up about this. We are going to throw feces at that. ... This is becoming extremely unhealthy. .. Talk ends with positive feelings about the Tribe. Read that again. Seriously, shoot me in the face.
OK. That's enough. Bottom line? I'm F'd up. This situation is F'd up. I really cannot take any more of this. Do I think LeBron will sign? No clue. I'm still, end of the day, leaning toward yes—despite the address change and all the other signings. Mostly because, if I'm not leaning toward yes, then I have to unleash a tirade of bitterness the likes of which the world has never seen. And I don't feel like doing that yet.
And I just don't think he has the balls to stab us in the back on live TV. Which I guess would more technically be a stab to the face. Do you, LeBron? Do you have the balls to stab us in the face? You certainly didn't against the Celtics. You know who did? Delonte. Your mom told me.
(Ooooh, did that sting? Well, there's more where that came from if you leave, you son of a bitch. But please don't leave. Cleveland loves you. ... God, I'm a mess.)
Go Cavs.
6:30. Woke up feeling good. Been riding a high ever since going down to the Fan Tunnel on Saturday. The vibe in the city felt positive and supportive. It felt very un-Cleveland, and that vibe has stayed with me. At this point, I fully believe LeBron will stay. I have a theory on why.
8:30. Eating my oatmeal by the filing cabinets and I debut my theory. Here goes: LeBron is staying in Cleveland, and he's always wanted to stay here. So why do all of this free agency stuff? Just to show he could. Instead of driving and around NYC and Miami and Chicago, he said F you, come to Cleveland and tell me why I should leave. He wore sweat pants and a t-shirts. Why? Because F you, I'm LeBron James, you need me, I don't need you. He saw the signs; he felt the love. The primetime TV show announcing his decision? F you, I'm going to do this because I can. Because people will honestly tune in just to watch me pick a team. All of this elaborately shows that even from Cleveland, he can host a primetime TV show based around anything he wants.
8:35. Heard Bosh is signing with Miami. This could have derailed my optimism, but I still don't buy it. I've got my theory after all. And my Home sign. How could he leave us behind? Not buying it.
8:36. Fuck Chris Bosh. Why is he so great? I'm going to throw batteries at him when the Heat come to town.
9:30. Tell my theory a few more times. Feeling good.
10:45. Feel like making a bet with a co-worker. I'm POSITIVE LeBron will stay. I'll put any amount on it. We'll discuss parameters at lunch.
11:00. After a variety of LeBron emails, none with any real importance, all of a sudden, without warning, all of my confidence drained. I read LeBron's name in a subject line and then envisioned this primetime show tomorrow. Here is what happened in my brain:
LeBron. Primetime. Cleveland. Sports. Big stage. Life-altering decision. Potentially crippling. Sports. Cleveland. Cleveland. Big stage. Whole world watching ...... Um, why am I so confident?????
And just as I thought this, a co-worker sends this email: "Full Panic Mode."
Gulp.
12:30. At lunch. Non-stop LeBron talk. Some hopeful voices. Many panicked voices. Some angry voices. A decent peach. Still in full panic mode.
2:00. Read a blog post that says Cavs are one of several teams pushing hard for Carlos Boozer in a last second attempt to woo James. Wow. So many feelings. Is it possible that the Cavs pull off a sign and trade, get Boozer and then LeBron leaves!!! That would mean in 2011 I have to root for Carlos Boozer and NOT LeBron James. Fuck me. In the ass. No lube.
3:00. Read a good column on SI.com. He echoes thoughts I had earlier: Does LeBron James really have the balls to call a live press conference in primetime just to tell the city of Cleveland to fuck off? I say no. Horrible public relations decision... Feeling a little better.
3:30. Read a damning column about LeBron on Yahoo. Very well written. So well written that I kind of hate LeBron right now. I kind of feel like I want him to leave just so I can hate him and call him an egotistical douchebag. I kind of want to root against him for the rest of my life and tell my grandkids about how much I hate him.
3:31. I snap out of it a little. Just going to hold onto that hatred for tomorrow night.
4:45. Listening to talk radio. Hear Boozer signs with the Bulls. Kind of a relief. But yet another reason for LeBron to leave. Ugh. I'd call this a circus, but the circus is fun. This is more like a dropping of Agent Orange.
5:15. Hear LeBron or his marketing firm (unsure which from the two friends I spoke to) has filed to change addresses to Chicago. That is factual. No rumor or opinion here. There was a change of address. Yet again, and with anger—wow. Would LeBron really go THAT far just to throw us off the scent? Is it a red herring? For the sake of my fist and living room wall tomorrow night, I hope so. But this revelation really rocks me. Not good times.
7:00. Conversation with a buddy on the phone. Talk was very depressing. We hate this. We hate that. We are throwing up about this. We are going to throw feces at that. ... This is becoming extremely unhealthy. .. Talk ends with positive feelings about the Tribe. Read that again. Seriously, shoot me in the face.
OK. That's enough. Bottom line? I'm F'd up. This situation is F'd up. I really cannot take any more of this. Do I think LeBron will sign? No clue. I'm still, end of the day, leaning toward yes—despite the address change and all the other signings. Mostly because, if I'm not leaning toward yes, then I have to unleash a tirade of bitterness the likes of which the world has never seen. And I don't feel like doing that yet.
And I just don't think he has the balls to stab us in the back on live TV. Which I guess would more technically be a stab to the face. Do you, LeBron? Do you have the balls to stab us in the face? You certainly didn't against the Celtics. You know who did? Delonte. Your mom told me.
(Ooooh, did that sting? Well, there's more where that came from if you leave, you son of a bitch. But please don't leave. Cleveland loves you. ... God, I'm a mess.)
Go Cavs.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Questioning Cleveland priorities
On Friday night, half of Cleveland gathered at Public Square in downtown, spilling over the sides in all directions, in order to see the world's best orchestra perform, The Cleveland Orchestra. It was really quite a moment and a great time to be downtown. And it got me thinking: Cleveland is messed up.
During my vacation, Hannah and I have tried to hit up some big-time Cleveland attractions that we've never been to before—the Art Museum, the Botanical Garden, the Cleveland Orchestra, Hot Sauce Williams, Melt, Playhouse Square, etc—and it's all been a thrilling cultural experience, filling me with more civic pride (and cheese) than I already had.
How is it possible for me to be filled with more civic pride? Well, this is where Cleveland is messed up. All of my civic pride, basically, comes from my allegiance to sports teams. You grow up; root for the Browns, Cavs and Indians; and then you defend every aspect of the city. But the thing of it is, those teams are rarely anything to be truly proud of. We never hold our heads high when discussing them, and if we do, it's out of defiance. However, in spite of it all, the misery factory of Cleveland sports gives us pride.
Messed. Up.
When you step back, it's absolutely asinine. We have a thriving, diverse and talented arts community. Like, it's .... good! The orchestra, the theater groups, the artists .... these talented people actually perform when it matters! Tons of them! National coverage of these groups is positive actually. There may be people that live in California or Texas or Florida, who only have an interest in the arts and actually ENVY Cleveland and wish they could live here or visit.
The thing is, I already kind of knew this. All of us do. When we are forced to defend our city after yet another sports debacle or harsh winter, we all fall back by saying these things from muscle memory.
It all struck me as so messed up during this Star Spangled Spectacular. The crowd was all anticipating the Cleveland Orchestra performance .... but BEFORE that happened, we had a glowing, pleading tribute to our hometown NBA free agent, LeBron James. We held signs, watched montages and cheered. PLEASE STAY LEBRON! WE LOVE YOU!!!! EVEN THOUGH YOU'VE NEVER WON A TITLE, AND ARE POSSIBLY LEAVING US IN A FEW DAYS AND WE'RE ABOUT TO ENJOY A CLEVELAND INSTITUTION THAT WOULD NEVER LEAVE US .... WE'RE STILL THINKING OF YOU THE MOST!!
And I loved it. I'd do it again right now. During the montage, I honestly almost cried, remembering all of the great times that LeBron has given me these last seven years and how I don't want those moments to end. Then the orchestra finally came on and we all had a blast. No tears. Just awe and memories and celebration.
In here, there is a debate about the unfairness of a LeBron v. a Ceveland Orchestra. LeBron might be a billionaire in a few years and none of us know the first violinist's name. I'm not as upset by that. All of these people are talented and all of these people have worked hard to hone their craft. The beef isn't with LeBron and sports, it's just with popular culture in general—which means you should be most mad at your neighbor and all of your friends and probably even yourself. I know I am. Popular stuff makes more money in sports, art, entertainment, porn, food, deodorant and anything else. I would think the first violinist would be more mad at Jay-Z than LeBron if she was upset about inequities.
My question is, why is the stuff that's not as good more popular here in Cleveland, especially when our city is constantly trying to battle negativity? We are so backward. Why would we identify with the part of our city that's such a failure when we could all hang our hat on something we do great? Why don't we push our arts scene more, let it grow even bigger and define ourselves by that and not Travis Hafner pop ups?
A big reason, obviously, is Cleveland is like any other place. Sports are popular and the arts are gay. But a big reason is our sports scene wasn't always this way. Many moons ago, while the city itself was thriving (pre-river catching fire), our sports teams thrived. The Browns were the best team in football for practically two decades and the Indians were in and out of title contention constantly. And as the popularity of sports grew nationally, our identity with our teams correlated.
The Cavs, however, were never good and never really apart of our identity. They were a sideshow. Until we drafted LeBron. Now the Cavs are deeply woven into our culture—almost too much, as we talk about the economic impact of LeBron leaving.
If downtown is really pining for a solution in the Defcon 5 scenario of LeBron leaving, my recommendation is to totally shift the focus to the arts. Make a big push for free downtown art events every week and have hordes of people show up. There were more people at the orchestra event than at the Indians game earlier in the day anyway. The Parade the Circle event a few weeks ago drew the equivalent of a Browns game. And at both of these events, people were pumped and happy to be Clevelanders the entire time. No depression, anger or misery. No fistfights. Just awe and enjoyment.
As a quick example, sitting near us at the orchestra event was this middle-aged, blue-collar, chain-smoking, plump black woman sitting in a lawn chair alongside her husband and another guy, maybe a brother, from what I gather. Stereotypically, it would seem this woman would care less about the arts and more about sports. And sure, she cheered loud for LeBron when the time came. But all throughout this event, even when sexually confused tweens were singing show tunes at 6:30, she was clapping along, nodding her head—cigarette in mouth—unapologetically enjoying a cultural event. The orchestra came on—exuding precision, refinement and class—and those three people were clapping along, cheering and staring at the giant screen in amazement. Just loving music and a perfect summer night. They are three people I'll never forget and three people Cleveland needs to embrace more openly.
Whatever. Bottom line: I want LeBron to stay, and I want everyone to start paying more attention to the arts. Let's try and make both of these happen ......... But especially the LeBron part. Let's face it, I like both, but I'm never going to care more about a painting than I do about a LeBron James assist. I'm messed up like that.
Go Teams.
During my vacation, Hannah and I have tried to hit up some big-time Cleveland attractions that we've never been to before—the Art Museum, the Botanical Garden, the Cleveland Orchestra, Hot Sauce Williams, Melt, Playhouse Square, etc—and it's all been a thrilling cultural experience, filling me with more civic pride (and cheese) than I already had.
How is it possible for me to be filled with more civic pride? Well, this is where Cleveland is messed up. All of my civic pride, basically, comes from my allegiance to sports teams. You grow up; root for the Browns, Cavs and Indians; and then you defend every aspect of the city. But the thing of it is, those teams are rarely anything to be truly proud of. We never hold our heads high when discussing them, and if we do, it's out of defiance. However, in spite of it all, the misery factory of Cleveland sports gives us pride.
Messed. Up.
When you step back, it's absolutely asinine. We have a thriving, diverse and talented arts community. Like, it's .... good! The orchestra, the theater groups, the artists .... these talented people actually perform when it matters! Tons of them! National coverage of these groups is positive actually. There may be people that live in California or Texas or Florida, who only have an interest in the arts and actually ENVY Cleveland and wish they could live here or visit.
The thing is, I already kind of knew this. All of us do. When we are forced to defend our city after yet another sports debacle or harsh winter, we all fall back by saying these things from muscle memory.
It all struck me as so messed up during this Star Spangled Spectacular. The crowd was all anticipating the Cleveland Orchestra performance .... but BEFORE that happened, we had a glowing, pleading tribute to our hometown NBA free agent, LeBron James. We held signs, watched montages and cheered. PLEASE STAY LEBRON! WE LOVE YOU!!!! EVEN THOUGH YOU'VE NEVER WON A TITLE, AND ARE POSSIBLY LEAVING US IN A FEW DAYS AND WE'RE ABOUT TO ENJOY A CLEVELAND INSTITUTION THAT WOULD NEVER LEAVE US .... WE'RE STILL THINKING OF YOU THE MOST!!
And I loved it. I'd do it again right now. During the montage, I honestly almost cried, remembering all of the great times that LeBron has given me these last seven years and how I don't want those moments to end. Then the orchestra finally came on and we all had a blast. No tears. Just awe and memories and celebration.
In here, there is a debate about the unfairness of a LeBron v. a Ceveland Orchestra. LeBron might be a billionaire in a few years and none of us know the first violinist's name. I'm not as upset by that. All of these people are talented and all of these people have worked hard to hone their craft. The beef isn't with LeBron and sports, it's just with popular culture in general—which means you should be most mad at your neighbor and all of your friends and probably even yourself. I know I am. Popular stuff makes more money in sports, art, entertainment, porn, food, deodorant and anything else. I would think the first violinist would be more mad at Jay-Z than LeBron if she was upset about inequities.
My question is, why is the stuff that's not as good more popular here in Cleveland, especially when our city is constantly trying to battle negativity? We are so backward. Why would we identify with the part of our city that's such a failure when we could all hang our hat on something we do great? Why don't we push our arts scene more, let it grow even bigger and define ourselves by that and not Travis Hafner pop ups?
A big reason, obviously, is Cleveland is like any other place. Sports are popular and the arts are gay. But a big reason is our sports scene wasn't always this way. Many moons ago, while the city itself was thriving (pre-river catching fire), our sports teams thrived. The Browns were the best team in football for practically two decades and the Indians were in and out of title contention constantly. And as the popularity of sports grew nationally, our identity with our teams correlated.
The Cavs, however, were never good and never really apart of our identity. They were a sideshow. Until we drafted LeBron. Now the Cavs are deeply woven into our culture—almost too much, as we talk about the economic impact of LeBron leaving.
If downtown is really pining for a solution in the Defcon 5 scenario of LeBron leaving, my recommendation is to totally shift the focus to the arts. Make a big push for free downtown art events every week and have hordes of people show up. There were more people at the orchestra event than at the Indians game earlier in the day anyway. The Parade the Circle event a few weeks ago drew the equivalent of a Browns game. And at both of these events, people were pumped and happy to be Clevelanders the entire time. No depression, anger or misery. No fistfights. Just awe and enjoyment.
As a quick example, sitting near us at the orchestra event was this middle-aged, blue-collar, chain-smoking, plump black woman sitting in a lawn chair alongside her husband and another guy, maybe a brother, from what I gather. Stereotypically, it would seem this woman would care less about the arts and more about sports. And sure, she cheered loud for LeBron when the time came. But all throughout this event, even when sexually confused tweens were singing show tunes at 6:30, she was clapping along, nodding her head—cigarette in mouth—unapologetically enjoying a cultural event. The orchestra came on—exuding precision, refinement and class—and those three people were clapping along, cheering and staring at the giant screen in amazement. Just loving music and a perfect summer night. They are three people I'll never forget and three people Cleveland needs to embrace more openly.
Whatever. Bottom line: I want LeBron to stay, and I want everyone to start paying more attention to the arts. Let's try and make both of these happen ......... But especially the LeBron part. Let's face it, I like both, but I'm never going to care more about a painting than I do about a LeBron James assist. I'm messed up like that.
Go Teams.
Friday, June 25, 2010
... It's just another Ashtabula: A memo to LeBron
Hey, LeBron, let's make this simple for you. If you want to win basketball games, be loyal and stay true to your roots and hometown and not bow out of this town like a coward—if you want to give an honest try to win a title in Cleveland, especially after you flat-out quit on all of us in the middle of the Eastern Conference semis—then you should stay.
But if part of you really wants to chase the idea of being this "global icon," and if you think that's unachievable here in Cleveland, then you should leave. For real.
I thought I'd be part of the groveling masses, begging and pleading for you to love me. I thought if you left I'd never shake the black cloud of misery from above my head. I thought I might not care about sports as much because, to me, you signaled the last hope we had of winning a championship. I legit thought these things—that's how much of an impact you have had on my life.
I really, really want you to stay—definitely—but I was wrong to think those things. I'm not going to chase affection. And if you truly could give a shit about the time you've spent here, or the task at hand or going down as a hometown legend, you'll stay. If you're willing to throw all of that away to chase the glorious more, the green grass, the glitz and pull of the Big Market—then just fucking go.
I've watched many people I've known in my life skip town for various reasons. Some very valid, some very superficial. They wanted the opportunities of a Bigger Market. Or they didn't like the weather. Or they simply were searching for that glorious more. They all felt held back in some way by Ohio.
Here's the funny thing about these people, from what I gather. These same people, when they reach their green grass, are the same people. They still bitch about the same stuff. They're still self-absorbed; they're still "waiting for the weekend;" they still get bored. Maybe not everyone, but most people don't reflect their scenery, they reflect onto their scenery.
A friend of mine that was ahead of me in high school graduated and moved to California. That seemed so exotic and interesting to me. When he returned the next fall for a little bit, I saw him at a football game. Of course, I asked him about California. Was it awesome? Did it change his life forever? The perfect weather and all of the Things To Do!?
"Everyone asks me that, and at first it's like, yeah, look at all this shit to do, but that's just because it's new. Eventually, it just becomes another Ashtabula."
Clearly, it doesn't literally become another Ashtabula because people still have jobs and 90 percent of the population doesn't angrily drink all day in the dark shadows of shady bars or hang out at the mall—but in that sentence, he said it all.
And that's what I say to you, LeBron. If you want the big city or the new experience or the "better" experience, then go. Try it out. I'm guessing your legacy will still be in the same position it is in now. Big name. Breath-taking talent. In search of a title.
Or maybe it will work out. Maybe you'll leave and win and go down in the history books. But you know who won't give a shit? Ohio. Your hometown fans. And if we don't care, then what's the point, ya know?
I'm not going to beg. I'm going to proudly root for my teams through thick or thin and always represent my hometown. And I hope you decide you want to be a part of it. Cleveland, Ohio, is not the place to pine for stardom and not the place to be an arrogant primmadonna. We wear sweatpants to restaurants. If you can't handle those realities, then I won't fight you. I'll help show you the door. (And then never speak your name for the rest of my life. ... We're also bitter and vindictive. I forgot to mention that part.)
Go teams.
But if part of you really wants to chase the idea of being this "global icon," and if you think that's unachievable here in Cleveland, then you should leave. For real.
I thought I'd be part of the groveling masses, begging and pleading for you to love me. I thought if you left I'd never shake the black cloud of misery from above my head. I thought I might not care about sports as much because, to me, you signaled the last hope we had of winning a championship. I legit thought these things—that's how much of an impact you have had on my life.
I really, really want you to stay—definitely—but I was wrong to think those things. I'm not going to chase affection. And if you truly could give a shit about the time you've spent here, or the task at hand or going down as a hometown legend, you'll stay. If you're willing to throw all of that away to chase the glorious more, the green grass, the glitz and pull of the Big Market—then just fucking go.
I've watched many people I've known in my life skip town for various reasons. Some very valid, some very superficial. They wanted the opportunities of a Bigger Market. Or they didn't like the weather. Or they simply were searching for that glorious more. They all felt held back in some way by Ohio.
Here's the funny thing about these people, from what I gather. These same people, when they reach their green grass, are the same people. They still bitch about the same stuff. They're still self-absorbed; they're still "waiting for the weekend;" they still get bored. Maybe not everyone, but most people don't reflect their scenery, they reflect onto their scenery.
A friend of mine that was ahead of me in high school graduated and moved to California. That seemed so exotic and interesting to me. When he returned the next fall for a little bit, I saw him at a football game. Of course, I asked him about California. Was it awesome? Did it change his life forever? The perfect weather and all of the Things To Do!?
"Everyone asks me that, and at first it's like, yeah, look at all this shit to do, but that's just because it's new. Eventually, it just becomes another Ashtabula."
Clearly, it doesn't literally become another Ashtabula because people still have jobs and 90 percent of the population doesn't angrily drink all day in the dark shadows of shady bars or hang out at the mall—but in that sentence, he said it all.
And that's what I say to you, LeBron. If you want the big city or the new experience or the "better" experience, then go. Try it out. I'm guessing your legacy will still be in the same position it is in now. Big name. Breath-taking talent. In search of a title.
Or maybe it will work out. Maybe you'll leave and win and go down in the history books. But you know who won't give a shit? Ohio. Your hometown fans. And if we don't care, then what's the point, ya know?
I'm not going to beg. I'm going to proudly root for my teams through thick or thin and always represent my hometown. And I hope you decide you want to be a part of it. Cleveland, Ohio, is not the place to pine for stardom and not the place to be an arrogant primmadonna. We wear sweatpants to restaurants. If you can't handle those realities, then I won't fight you. I'll help show you the door. (And then never speak your name for the rest of my life. ... We're also bitter and vindictive. I forgot to mention that part.)
Go teams.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Game 6
Game 5 felt like a funeral. It felt like something died in the Q. I'm not sure what died—Game 5, LeBron's career, his career in Cleveland, the Cavs organization, the Cleveland sports scene, the entire city of Cleveland, or just this series against Boston—but something definitely died. It reminded me of the Buckeyes' 2006 National Championship game—before now, the most depressing full game I've ever seen that required a eulogy at its conclusion.
And it depressed me. I felt jarred. I felt like so much ended in those 48 minutes. I actually considered trying not to care as much about sports as a result. What's the point? All I wanted was to just one time witness a championship in Cleveland, and if LeBron can't deliver it, I need to just give up. I hear this American Idol show is pretty consuming. Maybe I'll try that.
I'm not ruling that out, but I've toned the rhetoric down a little bit. I still think the sky is falling, but I'm not going to let that dampen my spirits. The point of watching and caring about this dumb stuff was never really about the championships—afterall, never won one—it's just about the watching and caring itself. My mom helped remind me of this on the phone today.
Me: I really think I'm going to distance myself from this stuff. I mean, that was just terrible.
Mom: Yea, so? That's what happens here. You know that.
Me: ..... Yea, but....
Doesn't matter what I said next. This woman who hardly ever watches one of these damn games was completely right. She knows. She's lived here her whole life in a family of sports fans, wanting these teams to win. We just don't. Why is this different? We get excited and get let down. But we watch. That's just what we do. I'm not letting one crappy, disinterested game dampen the passion I have for my crappy teams.
And just within the last hour, I've decided I'm not going to let that crappy, disinterested game make me walk into Game 6 as a LeBron hater. I kind of wanted to for most of the day. His passive play just made me too mad, sad, depressed and fearful. But it was, admittedly, a little unfair. My true hatred for his play, I think, rested in the whole "LEBRON MIGHT NOT BE HERE NEXT YEAR!! WE HAVE TO WIN NOW!!!" The possibility of LeBron leaving heightened the importance of everything, probably too much.
But I'm turning that around. The "LEBRON MIGHT NOT BE HERE NEXT YEAR!!" means that Game 6 really, honestly might be the very last time we all root for LeBron James. I know Game 5 felt that way, but Game 6 really might be, for real. Think about that. The last seven years of my life were devoted to every step LeBron has taken, and Game 6 may be the last time I even want him to live. It seems inappropriate and sad, as a true Cleveland fan, to not believe in the man at least one last time.
I do think we're going to lose, and I do think he's going to leave this summer, but there's plenty of time to be hateful and bitter when it's all officially over. I know we all look forward to being bitter, but let's just walk into at least one more game as believers of LeBron before we return to our mediocre sports cesspool. He's brought basketball in this city to heights never imagined—no matter how bad and sleepy he looked in Game 5. The least we can do is tell his doubters to Fuck Off one last time before we hate him for life. Right? Who's with me?!
Go Cavs.
And it depressed me. I felt jarred. I felt like so much ended in those 48 minutes. I actually considered trying not to care as much about sports as a result. What's the point? All I wanted was to just one time witness a championship in Cleveland, and if LeBron can't deliver it, I need to just give up. I hear this American Idol show is pretty consuming. Maybe I'll try that.
I'm not ruling that out, but I've toned the rhetoric down a little bit. I still think the sky is falling, but I'm not going to let that dampen my spirits. The point of watching and caring about this dumb stuff was never really about the championships—afterall, never won one—it's just about the watching and caring itself. My mom helped remind me of this on the phone today.
Me: I really think I'm going to distance myself from this stuff. I mean, that was just terrible.
Mom: Yea, so? That's what happens here. You know that.
Me: ..... Yea, but....
Doesn't matter what I said next. This woman who hardly ever watches one of these damn games was completely right. She knows. She's lived here her whole life in a family of sports fans, wanting these teams to win. We just don't. Why is this different? We get excited and get let down. But we watch. That's just what we do. I'm not letting one crappy, disinterested game dampen the passion I have for my crappy teams.
And just within the last hour, I've decided I'm not going to let that crappy, disinterested game make me walk into Game 6 as a LeBron hater. I kind of wanted to for most of the day. His passive play just made me too mad, sad, depressed and fearful. But it was, admittedly, a little unfair. My true hatred for his play, I think, rested in the whole "LEBRON MIGHT NOT BE HERE NEXT YEAR!! WE HAVE TO WIN NOW!!!" The possibility of LeBron leaving heightened the importance of everything, probably too much.
But I'm turning that around. The "LEBRON MIGHT NOT BE HERE NEXT YEAR!!" means that Game 6 really, honestly might be the very last time we all root for LeBron James. I know Game 5 felt that way, but Game 6 really might be, for real. Think about that. The last seven years of my life were devoted to every step LeBron has taken, and Game 6 may be the last time I even want him to live. It seems inappropriate and sad, as a true Cleveland fan, to not believe in the man at least one last time.
I do think we're going to lose, and I do think he's going to leave this summer, but there's plenty of time to be hateful and bitter when it's all officially over. I know we all look forward to being bitter, but let's just walk into at least one more game as believers of LeBron before we return to our mediocre sports cesspool. He's brought basketball in this city to heights never imagined—no matter how bad and sleepy he looked in Game 5. The least we can do is tell his doubters to Fuck Off one last time before we hate him for life. Right? Who's with me?!
Go Cavs.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The real reason LeBron should stay in Cleveland
Note: This is a Typical Cleveland Fan post. There are two versions of the Typical Cleveland Fan. There's the one before the season who declares the Browns are going to the Super Bowl with Brady Quinn as the QB. And then there's this one. ... Put on a coat, it's going to get bitterly cold in here. Actually, it's just going to get bitter. But put a coat on anyway. This is Cleveland; it's cold out.
I swear I'm not calling out LeBron James. I love him like gray skies love Northeast Ohio. I'd give my sense of smell so that he'd stay here his whole career.
But. Dude. Come on now. You too?
My life has been filled with false sports idols. Albert Belle. Manny Ramirez. Jim Thome. Brady Quinn. Kenny Lofton. Mark Price. Brad Daugherty. CC Sabathia. Bernie Kosar. ... are you seriously going to add your name to this list?
And just what is this list? It appears to be a random list of great players (or semi-terrible in Quinn's case) that I liked for various reasons throughout my life. And yes, that's exactly what it is. Whether I love or hate these guys now is irrelevant. At one time, I believed in all of them and thought they would be the guy that would lead Cleveland into the winner's circle. And all of them failed. Every last one of them. I was like Jacob in "Lost," hoping the next guy would be The One. The guy that would prove everyone wrong. That things could change. He would win. Here. Cleveland.
Nope. None of them.
And I'm only 25! That's just under half of our title drought. People like my uncle have been kicked in the nads more times than bad guys in kids movies.
Our last title was 1964. And who was on the team? Jim Brown. The last TRULY great athlete our city had before LeBron. There were other really awesome ones, like the names listed above, but none like Jim Brown, and none like LeBron. So .... Brown = Title ; Brown = LeBron; LeBron = Title?
Um, right? ... [Rewatching Game 2 against Boston.] ... Uh oh.
Come on! ... I tell myself ... He's now a two-time MVP of the NBA! He is flat out the most gifted basketball player breathing. He imposes his will on teams. And he's STILL playing with a cast of characters that shrink when it matters most. He has to do it all by himself!
I kind of agree with myself there. But here's the unfortunate truth everyone: Because LeBron is the best player on earth, and because he can, does and should impose his will on other teams, the burden is on him to win the title. Period. Heavy is the head that wears the crown; and if a guy tattoos "King" and "Chosen One" on himself, then his head should feel like Shaq after a trip to McDonalds. All TRULY great NBA players win titles, no excuses. Clearly, LeBron has time to win a title for the next decade, (Probably on another team. I mean, right?) but a trend is starting to develop here. This team has had the best record in the league for two straight years, so it's not like everyone on the team is a total stiff. At some point, these failures and sad or pathetic or gut-wrenching losses have to be the fault of LeBron, right? I mean, if he is TRULY great, and if he's coaching the team and not Mike Brown, and if the team has taken on his personality, and if he is their leader, and if they defer to him at all times..... then it's ALL on him. Good, bad or Game-2-level truly pathetic.
If LeBron fails again, which I now believe he will, (Yup, I'm that guy. Sorry. I want to be wrong. Please prove me wrong. Anybody.) put his name on the wall next to Cliff Lee and Brian Sype and Ernest Byner and all the other losers I mentioned. Good guys? Yes. Great athletes? You bet. Legendary Cleveland athletes I'll tell my grand kids about? Absolutely. Ultimately a bunch of losers? Unfortunately, yes.
But my real thesis behind this entire post: If LeBron fails again, then he should definitely re-sign with the Cavs this summer. Not because he owes us a title or because he'll have unfinished business or because his favorite pizza place is here. It's because he's truly one of us. Seriously. Our homegrown savior, born and bred to play basketball better than anyone else, drafted by us, worshiped by us—who ultimately fails in the end. Now THAT is a true Clevelander.
Wow. That was brutally bitter. I apologize. I hope this looks stupid in a month. Go Cavs.
I swear I'm not calling out LeBron James. I love him like gray skies love Northeast Ohio. I'd give my sense of smell so that he'd stay here his whole career.
But. Dude. Come on now. You too?
My life has been filled with false sports idols. Albert Belle. Manny Ramirez. Jim Thome. Brady Quinn. Kenny Lofton. Mark Price. Brad Daugherty. CC Sabathia. Bernie Kosar. ... are you seriously going to add your name to this list?
And just what is this list? It appears to be a random list of great players (or semi-terrible in Quinn's case) that I liked for various reasons throughout my life. And yes, that's exactly what it is. Whether I love or hate these guys now is irrelevant. At one time, I believed in all of them and thought they would be the guy that would lead Cleveland into the winner's circle. And all of them failed. Every last one of them. I was like Jacob in "Lost," hoping the next guy would be The One. The guy that would prove everyone wrong. That things could change. He would win. Here. Cleveland.
Nope. None of them.
And I'm only 25! That's just under half of our title drought. People like my uncle have been kicked in the nads more times than bad guys in kids movies.
Our last title was 1964. And who was on the team? Jim Brown. The last TRULY great athlete our city had before LeBron. There were other really awesome ones, like the names listed above, but none like Jim Brown, and none like LeBron. So .... Brown = Title ; Brown = LeBron; LeBron = Title?
Um, right? ... [Rewatching Game 2 against Boston.] ... Uh oh.
Come on! ... I tell myself ... He's now a two-time MVP of the NBA! He is flat out the most gifted basketball player breathing. He imposes his will on teams. And he's STILL playing with a cast of characters that shrink when it matters most. He has to do it all by himself!
I kind of agree with myself there. But here's the unfortunate truth everyone: Because LeBron is the best player on earth, and because he can, does and should impose his will on other teams, the burden is on him to win the title. Period. Heavy is the head that wears the crown; and if a guy tattoos "King" and "Chosen One" on himself, then his head should feel like Shaq after a trip to McDonalds. All TRULY great NBA players win titles, no excuses. Clearly, LeBron has time to win a title for the next decade, (Probably on another team. I mean, right?) but a trend is starting to develop here. This team has had the best record in the league for two straight years, so it's not like everyone on the team is a total stiff. At some point, these failures and sad or pathetic or gut-wrenching losses have to be the fault of LeBron, right? I mean, if he is TRULY great, and if he's coaching the team and not Mike Brown, and if the team has taken on his personality, and if he is their leader, and if they defer to him at all times..... then it's ALL on him. Good, bad or Game-2-level truly pathetic.
If LeBron fails again, which I now believe he will, (Yup, I'm that guy. Sorry. I want to be wrong. Please prove me wrong. Anybody.) put his name on the wall next to Cliff Lee and Brian Sype and Ernest Byner and all the other losers I mentioned. Good guys? Yes. Great athletes? You bet. Legendary Cleveland athletes I'll tell my grand kids about? Absolutely. Ultimately a bunch of losers? Unfortunately, yes.
But my real thesis behind this entire post: If LeBron fails again, then he should definitely re-sign with the Cavs this summer. Not because he owes us a title or because he'll have unfinished business or because his favorite pizza place is here. It's because he's truly one of us. Seriously. Our homegrown savior, born and bred to play basketball better than anyone else, drafted by us, worshiped by us—who ultimately fails in the end. Now THAT is a true Clevelander.
Wow. That was brutally bitter. I apologize. I hope this looks stupid in a month. Go Cavs.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
The Sports Fan Calendar
I'm going to plagiarize myself. I had the idea for the Sports Fan Calendar back in my college days, and since we're on the brink of a New Year in sports, I felt like dusting it off and re-sharing it. Other than a few updates here and there, it's the same column as before. Yup, I'm that lazy.
2010 has been under way for almost three months now, but not for me. My year is just starting. I operate under the Sports Fan Calendar. The Sports Fan Calendar is a lot like the normal, everyday calendar, only it's much less boring and involves a lot more swearing and beer.
Although sports fans still take part in the regular holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, we have our own holidays in the Sports Fan Calendar. While everyone else is blowing horns and choking on confetti in January, we sit back and wait for the opening rounds of March Madness—the real New Year's. Think about it. People who celebrate the normal New Year's Day believe they will exercise and eat right after the ball drops. Tomorrow, after the ball is tipped, sports fans everywhere will start to believe LeHigh can beat Kansas. Impossibility is suspended by hope on New Year's Day.
Here are some other brief examples of Holidays during the Sports Fan Calendar:
MLB Opening Day—SFC Easter —A sports fan's holy day of obligation. It's springtime and new life is in the air, especially for 30 MLB teams. Baseball is also very Jesus-like. It accounts for human error and accepts failure as a part of the game. On a side note, Grady Sizemore can walk on water.
The Masters—SFC Thanksgiving—A tradition unlike any other. This was founded by groups of people long ago. On the same Thursday (through Sunday) every year we commemorate and reenact the spirit of the past celebrations. Plymouth Rock, meet Augusta National.
NFL Draft—SFC Memorial Day Weekend— The NFL draft is a time to remember the dead. Teams like the Rams, Lions and Raiders are pushed to the forefront. Sweet teams like the Chargers, Colts and Browns are there, but only as background to the dead. This isn't a holiday celebrated by all, but people who love it, like me, enjoy the time to reflect, mourn and look to the future.
U.S Open (golf)—SFC Fourth of July—The celebration of America and democracy: An open tournament for the U.S. people to be champions of golf. And much like the real American democracy, it is an illusion and it's all eventually ruled by one entity. But it's much more fun.
Browns v Steelers—SFC Halloween—Scary.
Rivalry Week through the BCS Championship—SFC Holiday Season—For Ohio State fans, the Michigan game is Christmas Eve and the bowl game is Christmas. If you don't like Ohio State for some ridiculous reason, it doesn't matter because everyone has a holiday! Bowl season recognizes everyone's culture. Jews, Muslims, Pagans and SEC fans can all celebrate in their own way. Plus, half the population is upset and depressed just like the regular holiday season. It's fun.
The Super Bowl—SFC New Year's Eve—The end of the calendar year. Everyone celebrates it, but only a few people really care. Everyone has a party, fakes enthusiasm, eats too much dip and then quits caring right after it's over. The Sports Fan Calendar then enters the offseason. Fans take some time to renegotiate, play with the kids and anticipate March Madness. So sports fans, if I don't see you tomorrow, which I won't because I'll be in my living room, in a bathrobe, watching basketball for 12 hours: Have a happy New Year! Go Bucks!
I wish that last joke was still true. Damn the real world and it's ignorance of the Sports Fan Calendar. ..... Go Bucks.
2010 has been under way for almost three months now, but not for me. My year is just starting. I operate under the Sports Fan Calendar. The Sports Fan Calendar is a lot like the normal, everyday calendar, only it's much less boring and involves a lot more swearing and beer.
Although sports fans still take part in the regular holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas, we have our own holidays in the Sports Fan Calendar. While everyone else is blowing horns and choking on confetti in January, we sit back and wait for the opening rounds of March Madness—the real New Year's. Think about it. People who celebrate the normal New Year's Day believe they will exercise and eat right after the ball drops. Tomorrow, after the ball is tipped, sports fans everywhere will start to believe LeHigh can beat Kansas. Impossibility is suspended by hope on New Year's Day.
Here are some other brief examples of Holidays during the Sports Fan Calendar:
MLB Opening Day—SFC Easter —A sports fan's holy day of obligation. It's springtime and new life is in the air, especially for 30 MLB teams. Baseball is also very Jesus-like. It accounts for human error and accepts failure as a part of the game. On a side note, Grady Sizemore can walk on water.
The Masters—SFC Thanksgiving—A tradition unlike any other. This was founded by groups of people long ago. On the same Thursday (through Sunday) every year we commemorate and reenact the spirit of the past celebrations. Plymouth Rock, meet Augusta National.
NFL Draft—SFC Memorial Day Weekend— The NFL draft is a time to remember the dead. Teams like the Rams, Lions and Raiders are pushed to the forefront. Sweet teams like the Chargers, Colts and Browns are there, but only as background to the dead. This isn't a holiday celebrated by all, but people who love it, like me, enjoy the time to reflect, mourn and look to the future.
U.S Open (golf)—SFC Fourth of July—The celebration of America and democracy: An open tournament for the U.S. people to be champions of golf. And much like the real American democracy, it is an illusion and it's all eventually ruled by one entity. But it's much more fun.
Browns v Steelers—SFC Halloween—Scary.
Rivalry Week through the BCS Championship—SFC Holiday Season—For Ohio State fans, the Michigan game is Christmas Eve and the bowl game is Christmas. If you don't like Ohio State for some ridiculous reason, it doesn't matter because everyone has a holiday! Bowl season recognizes everyone's culture. Jews, Muslims, Pagans and SEC fans can all celebrate in their own way. Plus, half the population is upset and depressed just like the regular holiday season. It's fun.
The Super Bowl—SFC New Year's Eve—The end of the calendar year. Everyone celebrates it, but only a few people really care. Everyone has a party, fakes enthusiasm, eats too much dip and then quits caring right after it's over. The Sports Fan Calendar then enters the offseason. Fans take some time to renegotiate, play with the kids and anticipate March Madness. So sports fans, if I don't see you tomorrow, which I won't because I'll be in my living room, in a bathrobe, watching basketball for 12 hours: Have a happy New Year! Go Bucks!
I wish that last joke was still true. Damn the real world and it's ignorance of the Sports Fan Calendar. ..... Go Bucks.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
No way to spin it: Jake Delhomme sucks
Let's call the Delhomme signing what it is—just a giant turd. There is no way to get excited for it as a fan.
It's not that Quinn is good. I could care less we traded Quinn. But I feel like we ended the Quinn era just to end it, regardless of Plan B. Why not just keep Quinn while we wait for our next "franchise" QB? Why waste money on Delhomme during this dark period?
It's like Holmgren said, "Hey, throw out that Coors Light, let me buy you some real beer!" And then proceeded to buy us Genessee.
Give me time and I talk myself into just about any farcical reality. I bought into Charlie Frye. I'm excited for the Tribe this year. I own a Luke Jackson jersey. I'm an easy sell. That's what makes this Delhomme signing so astounding: It is impossible to get excited for.
The only positive talking points people have are A) he's a veteran guy; B) he's a game manager; and C) he gives us stability at the position. All of these are correct.
He's a veteran. That will happen when you hang around the league until you're 35. You get to be called a veteran, which is always a positive term. Even when you are way past your glory days, people can spin the veteran word and people buy it.
"Hey, we got Willie McGinest? He'll bring a veteran presence to the linebacker position."
"Hey, we got Chuck Finley? Should provide a nice veteran presence to our rotation."
"Sweet, we signed Donyell Marshall? The dude's been there before, this should really help us."
And so on.
He's a game manager. Just because you're a veteran, and you're a white QB, it doesn't mean you are a "heady QB." Brady Quinn threw 7 INTs last year and Delhomme threw 18. Quinn is the guy with only a full year of starting experience. Maybe it's an anomaly, but is the 18-INT guy really the one to tout as the "smart game manager?" I fail to see the logic in this. Explain it to me WITHOUT using his stats from five years ago. This isn't Hot Tub Time Machine. This will be the 2010 season.
He provides stability. Delhomme provides stability because he's been signed to be the starter. We avoid controversy this way. Yup, no controversy. However, by this definition, any living organism would have been a positive so long as Holmgren named him the starter. Name Trent Dilfer the starter again? Stability. Name Josh Cribbs the starter? Stability. Name '80s hip hop star Bobby Brown the starter? Stability. Stable doesn't imply good, and it especially doesn't when applied to Delhomme—who is no longer good.
Whatever. If this 35-year-old that's thrown 22 INTs in his last 12 games, and is being paid $12 million to not be on his old team, is decent next year, then that's great. Awesome. Pop the champagne. But right now, I just don't believe it. With Quinn, I was able to live under the delusion that he could potentially figure it out and be decent. Time was still on his side and that gave me hope. Delhomme doesn't provide that. There is no delusion. He's just a washed up QB we didn't need to sign. To be a Browns fan, you need a hopeful delusion in the offseason. That's all we ask. Set us up for a fall. Is that really so hard to do?
Maybe it will all make sense after The Draft, when we select our new tantalizing college star QB (Tim Tebow, anyone?) that makes us root for Delhomme to get injured and ultimately leads us to five wins and bitterness ... but until that happens, I'm going to stay bummed out.
Go Browns.
It's not that Quinn is good. I could care less we traded Quinn. But I feel like we ended the Quinn era just to end it, regardless of Plan B. Why not just keep Quinn while we wait for our next "franchise" QB? Why waste money on Delhomme during this dark period?
It's like Holmgren said, "Hey, throw out that Coors Light, let me buy you some real beer!" And then proceeded to buy us Genessee.
Give me time and I talk myself into just about any farcical reality. I bought into Charlie Frye. I'm excited for the Tribe this year. I own a Luke Jackson jersey. I'm an easy sell. That's what makes this Delhomme signing so astounding: It is impossible to get excited for.
The only positive talking points people have are A) he's a veteran guy; B) he's a game manager; and C) he gives us stability at the position. All of these are correct.
He's a veteran. That will happen when you hang around the league until you're 35. You get to be called a veteran, which is always a positive term. Even when you are way past your glory days, people can spin the veteran word and people buy it.
"Hey, we got Willie McGinest? He'll bring a veteran presence to the linebacker position."
"Hey, we got Chuck Finley? Should provide a nice veteran presence to our rotation."
"Sweet, we signed Donyell Marshall? The dude's been there before, this should really help us."
And so on.
He's a game manager. Just because you're a veteran, and you're a white QB, it doesn't mean you are a "heady QB." Brady Quinn threw 7 INTs last year and Delhomme threw 18. Quinn is the guy with only a full year of starting experience. Maybe it's an anomaly, but is the 18-INT guy really the one to tout as the "smart game manager?" I fail to see the logic in this. Explain it to me WITHOUT using his stats from five years ago. This isn't Hot Tub Time Machine. This will be the 2010 season.
He provides stability. Delhomme provides stability because he's been signed to be the starter. We avoid controversy this way. Yup, no controversy. However, by this definition, any living organism would have been a positive so long as Holmgren named him the starter. Name Trent Dilfer the starter again? Stability. Name Josh Cribbs the starter? Stability. Name '80s hip hop star Bobby Brown the starter? Stability. Stable doesn't imply good, and it especially doesn't when applied to Delhomme—who is no longer good.
Whatever. If this 35-year-old that's thrown 22 INTs in his last 12 games, and is being paid $12 million to not be on his old team, is decent next year, then that's great. Awesome. Pop the champagne. But right now, I just don't believe it. With Quinn, I was able to live under the delusion that he could potentially figure it out and be decent. Time was still on his side and that gave me hope. Delhomme doesn't provide that. There is no delusion. He's just a washed up QB we didn't need to sign. To be a Browns fan, you need a hopeful delusion in the offseason. That's all we ask. Set us up for a fall. Is that really so hard to do?
Maybe it will all make sense after The Draft, when we select our new tantalizing college star QB (Tim Tebow, anyone?) that makes us root for Delhomme to get injured and ultimately leads us to five wins and bitterness ... but until that happens, I'm going to stay bummed out.
Go Browns.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Forget Forbes, embrace The Plum
In the wake of Forbes-called-us-miserable-gate, many Clevelanders got real defensive. Plain Dealer columns. Radio shows. TV commercials. Even a website called whattheforbes.com. The most backlash came from Twitter, where people tweeted why they were #HappyinCLE. “We are NOT miserable, and here's all of the really cool stuff we can do!” was the cry. I got caught up in it too because I hate when outsiders slight my humble city, but I can't help but feel many are missing the point.
Joe Posnanski, as usual, is right. We all need to quit pointing out why we’re no different than metropolitan hot spots in order to prove doubters wrong. Cleveland is different. We're not the Big Apple, we're The Plum, remember? We have to look in the mirror, realize what makes Cleveland, Cleveland, and appreciate all of it—all without wanting to drink a 40-ounce, slit our wrists and slowly bleed to death. If that seems too difficult to do, then leave.
Cleveland is kind of miserable. That's why the Cleveland Tourism Video was so funny. It's these lumps that form our character. Let Forbes call us out. Who cares? That's the type of city Cleveland is. We get looked down on by the snobs, looked over by the cool and called out by the media. But all of those are reasons to be #HappyinCLE. Cleveland is a dive bar. Dive bars are awesome. Quit looking around for the hot girls, the velvet ropes and the foam dance floor. Chug a beer, fart and play darts with your buddies.
What's this have to do with sports? Everything! Our sports teams are the true definition of our delightfully miserable town. There is plenty to have fun with and celebrate in Cleveland sports. It's stuff that's not awesome to outsiders and doesn't lead to success, but it's all unapologetically Cleveland stuff. Much of it is lame or goofy, but that's why we like it. Here are some of my favorite examples in what I'm calling my Plum List— all of which symbolize some part of our true Cleveland identity.
The Brownie Elf. There may be no dumber faux-mascot in all of sports. I wouldn't hesitate to tattoo it on my back.
Austin Carr. The man is more lovable than a puppy in a top hat. It’s the way he gets mad when we’re playing poorly; it’s the way he calls refs into question; it’s his off-the-cuff giddiness after fantastic plays; it's how half the time he can’t find the words to properly describe his emotions (but we all know what he means). And it’s not just his homer traits I love. It’s his laugh, the sound of which may have medicinal purposes; it’s the way he casually uses the word “consequently” at least five times a game; it’s the way he talks himself into corners headed to commercial and just ends it by saying “….in the Quuuuuuuuuuuu.”
“LeBron is taking the Celtics to school tonight… stepping back and firing..from LONG RANGE…OVER Daniels…..from DEEP…..in the Quuuuuuuu.”
And it's the way he goes to do that same thing on the road and clearly has to think for a second and look at a piece of paper to remember the name of the arena. “From DEEP…..in…….the ARCO Areenaaaaaaaa.”
On an objective metric, the man is not good at his job. He is a broadcaster who bumbles over his words and is biased for one side to win a game. But all of that makes me love him. He’s just a goofy guy that irrationally roots for Cleveland. I wouldn’t have Mr. Cavalier be any other way.
Stadium mustard. The greatest mustard on earth. No question. Well, actually, here's a question: Would I believe this if it was from New Hampshire or Texas or Ireland? Here’s my answer: Shut up.
The Dawg Pound. A bunch of drunk fat dudes that are stuck in the '80s. It's sad and played-out, yet nostalgic and charming. Long live the Dawg Pound.
John Adams. A dude, the team he loves and his drum. Win or lose, the man is there showing his passion. Take your modern music and shove it in your ear. Need a run? Pound the drum. Simple. Pure. Mustache.
Complaining. OK, so it's not unique to Cleveland, per se, but nothing makes a real Cleveland fan happier. When the Browns lose, we discuss it for at least 40 minutes of every lunch hour every day until the next game. After they win? That stat dips. Booooring! Do you have lengthy Cavs discussions with people? No—not unless you are talking about why you are worried or mad or why LeBron will or won’t leave. Winning isn’t interesting fodder. Losing is. This makes us at least 10 percent more interesting than someone from a winning town. And I’d rather be an interesting loser than a dull winner.
(See? Now THAT is how you fight back at someone calling you miserable. Agree with them and then show them why it makes you a better person. Go teams.)
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sports Fan Anger Index
Die hard sports fans are assured only one thing in life: We will be angry. This anger comes in a variety forms and degrees. What I'd like to do here is quantify this visceral (and highly idiotic) emotion with the Sports Fan Anger Index. What exactly makes us mad? What makes us the most mad? Does it always involve Braylon Edwards?
First, some ground rules. This index calculates only the anger felt after a game. So, you might be a little bit more mad the Indians traded Victor Martinez than you are about the Cavs losing to the Magic in the regular season, and it might be possible to add such a figure to this index, but that's not what I'm trying to do here.
Also, this is an anger index. The abject misery that is watching the Cleveland Browns lose their 15th game in a season is depressing—numbingly depressing. But that's not anger. Sure, there might be some anger there, but it's not weighted as high in this index.
And I think that covers the preamble. So how does this Sports Fan Anger Index work? Well, I've assigned number values to a variety of factors that all contribute to the emotional context associated with a team. How much do you expect out of that team? How important was the game? How did the team lose? The answers to these questions determine whether we write a sarcastic text or throw a remote when the game ends. Explaining the nuances of something as irrational as sports fanaticism is taxing and complicated. This index easily identifies the situation and defines our reaction.
Expectations
10- Championship
8- Playoff contention
5- .500 or better
3- Rebuilding (the positive way to say "not good")
1- Barely a pulse
Note: Pretty straightforward here. Expectations are just that. A championship team should play as such, and when it doesn't, it is irritating. When we expect a team to play terrible and it does, it's hardly as upsetting.
Stakes
10- Championship
8- Playoff game
6- Regular season game w/ playoff implications
5- NFL regular season game
3- NBA game
2- MLB game
Level of other team
7- Nationals/Nets/Rams level of suck
5- .500 team
3- Above average team
1- Best team in the league
Important note here. Index numbers are to be calculated only following losses UNLESS the team's expectations and the level of the other team add up to 15 or more. For example, if the Cavs barely beat the Nets, that's not something to pop champagne about. Anger is allowable after wins in those cases. If playing well in a loss is a moral victory, then barely winning a game that should be a blowout is an immoral victory. The immoral victory does not get weighted in the stakes column above.
Add-ons
+3 Tyronn Lue Award— Tyronn Lue was (is? Unsure if he's still in the league) a bum of an NBA player. For whatever reason, when he played against the Cavs, he seemed to play out of his mind. He'd be dribble driving, hitting 3s, playing pesky D, making annoying faces. It was incredibly frustrating. In his honor, whenever a bum from another team catches fire and makes the difference in a game—playing well above his usual output—I give that guy the Tyronn Lue Award for the game. If that happens in the game, tack on three to your calculation.
+2 The Elway Rule— It's like the Tyronn Lue Award, but it's not inexplicable. When the same guy beats us constantly, it becomes extremely frustrating, but when it's one of the best guys in the league, what did we expect? It's still worthy of adding some points onto our anger.
+5 Rivalry—Fuck the Steelers.
+3 Hateable team— The Red Sox are not the Indians' rival, but I hate them. That has to count for something, right?
+5 The Braylon Edwards Rule— Losing because the highest paid guys on the team—the guys we rely on—did not come through is terribly aggravating. When Casey Blake grounds into a double play, it's annoying, but it's understandable. He's Casey Blake. He sucks. But when it's Travis Hafner? Get ready for an expletive tirade. (I know Hafner isn't awesome any more, but he's being paid like he's awesome, so he still counts.)
+1 to 4 Ramifications—Did a key guy go down? Was this the fifth game in a row where we played no defense? Did this help out the Tigers magic number? Does the SEC gain bragging rights? Is this a really long losing streak? Feel free to subjectively add a few points based on any number of disasters.
+1 to +3 Blunders—These points are reserved for blown calls or poor coaching decisions. Stuff that is out of your control ... because as we all know, the play on the field IS in our control.
By my calculations, the easiest game to swallow would be the Pirates or Nationals losing a well played, controversy free game to the very good yet not hateable Los Angeles Dodgers (4). And the worst? Well, a certain college football championship game from 2006 comes to mind (40). A higher score is possible, but anyone who has experienced it probably walked into traffic and is no longer able to tell the tale.
Note: I may be off in my reasoning or missed some factors or weighted stuff wrong—this is definitely an imperfect system that will be tweaked over time—but I think I'm pretty close. One problem that might muddy the system is the depression factor. I remember feeling extremely depressed when the Buckeyes lost to Florida, not angry. But that's my standard coping mechanism, so I don't think it's a reflection on this objective, highly sophisticated mathematical formula I've created here. Would like to hear some suggestions for additions or changes though.
Go Teams.
First, some ground rules. This index calculates only the anger felt after a game. So, you might be a little bit more mad the Indians traded Victor Martinez than you are about the Cavs losing to the Magic in the regular season, and it might be possible to add such a figure to this index, but that's not what I'm trying to do here.
Also, this is an anger index. The abject misery that is watching the Cleveland Browns lose their 15th game in a season is depressing—numbingly depressing. But that's not anger. Sure, there might be some anger there, but it's not weighted as high in this index.
And I think that covers the preamble. So how does this Sports Fan Anger Index work? Well, I've assigned number values to a variety of factors that all contribute to the emotional context associated with a team. How much do you expect out of that team? How important was the game? How did the team lose? The answers to these questions determine whether we write a sarcastic text or throw a remote when the game ends. Explaining the nuances of something as irrational as sports fanaticism is taxing and complicated. This index easily identifies the situation and defines our reaction.
Expectations
10- Championship
8- Playoff contention
5- .500 or better
3- Rebuilding (the positive way to say "not good")
1- Barely a pulse
Note: Pretty straightforward here. Expectations are just that. A championship team should play as such, and when it doesn't, it is irritating. When we expect a team to play terrible and it does, it's hardly as upsetting.
Stakes
10- Championship
8- Playoff game
6- Regular season game w/ playoff implications
5- NFL regular season game
3- NBA game
2- MLB game
Level of other team
7- Nationals/Nets/Rams level of suck
5- .500 team
3- Above average team
1- Best team in the league
Important note here. Index numbers are to be calculated only following losses UNLESS the team's expectations and the level of the other team add up to 15 or more. For example, if the Cavs barely beat the Nets, that's not something to pop champagne about. Anger is allowable after wins in those cases. If playing well in a loss is a moral victory, then barely winning a game that should be a blowout is an immoral victory. The immoral victory does not get weighted in the stakes column above.
Add-ons
+3 Tyronn Lue Award— Tyronn Lue was (is? Unsure if he's still in the league) a bum of an NBA player. For whatever reason, when he played against the Cavs, he seemed to play out of his mind. He'd be dribble driving, hitting 3s, playing pesky D, making annoying faces. It was incredibly frustrating. In his honor, whenever a bum from another team catches fire and makes the difference in a game—playing well above his usual output—I give that guy the Tyronn Lue Award for the game. If that happens in the game, tack on three to your calculation.
+2 The Elway Rule— It's like the Tyronn Lue Award, but it's not inexplicable. When the same guy beats us constantly, it becomes extremely frustrating, but when it's one of the best guys in the league, what did we expect? It's still worthy of adding some points onto our anger.
+5 Rivalry—Fuck the Steelers.
+3 Hateable team— The Red Sox are not the Indians' rival, but I hate them. That has to count for something, right?
+5 The Braylon Edwards Rule— Losing because the highest paid guys on the team—the guys we rely on—did not come through is terribly aggravating. When Casey Blake grounds into a double play, it's annoying, but it's understandable. He's Casey Blake. He sucks. But when it's Travis Hafner? Get ready for an expletive tirade. (I know Hafner isn't awesome any more, but he's being paid like he's awesome, so he still counts.)
+1 to 4 Ramifications—Did a key guy go down? Was this the fifth game in a row where we played no defense? Did this help out the Tigers magic number? Does the SEC gain bragging rights? Is this a really long losing streak? Feel free to subjectively add a few points based on any number of disasters.
+1 to +3 Blunders—These points are reserved for blown calls or poor coaching decisions. Stuff that is out of your control ... because as we all know, the play on the field IS in our control.
By my calculations, the easiest game to swallow would be the Pirates or Nationals losing a well played, controversy free game to the very good yet not hateable Los Angeles Dodgers (4). And the worst? Well, a certain college football championship game from 2006 comes to mind (40). A higher score is possible, but anyone who has experienced it probably walked into traffic and is no longer able to tell the tale.
Note: I may be off in my reasoning or missed some factors or weighted stuff wrong—this is definitely an imperfect system that will be tweaked over time—but I think I'm pretty close. One problem that might muddy the system is the depression factor. I remember feeling extremely depressed when the Buckeyes lost to Florida, not angry. But that's my standard coping mechanism, so I don't think it's a reflection on this objective, highly sophisticated mathematical formula I've created here. Would like to hear some suggestions for additions or changes though.
Go Teams.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Questions of our Cavs reality
If you've never watched the show Lost before, well, you can't start now because it is confusing. Anyhow, last season there was a big decision, one that could alter the fates of the cast and possibly the rest of the world—or nothing could really happen at all. No one was sure. That season ended and no one knew how this season would start. Which reality would we be in? The answer is both. The show, at least this far, has parallel narratives. Two worlds, one in which they changed the future, and a second where they changed nothing. And thus far, we are watching how both of them play out.
I wish I had this ability with the Cavs for the rest of the season.
After heisting Jamison from Washington and sending Z out of a Cavs uniform for the first time since I taped new episodes of Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Danny Ferry has altered the course of Cleveland sports, for better or worse ... or maybe it's a push. Unfortunately, we can't see all of the realities play out. Here would be our options:
• Stand firm. We keep Z, keep the team intact, ride the 13-game win streak, maintain yet another dominant regular season and make a run at the first title in close to 50 years in Cleveland. Maybe we don't win it, but we have a better chance than last year where matchup problems that were obvious in the regular season ultimately sunk us in the post season. That was corrected in the offseason, or so it seems, so there really is no NEED to make a trade—at least for this year's goals. But beyond this year? Two old centers with expiring contracts and the same average to mediocre supporting class staring the Greatest Free Agent of All Time in the face as every NBA team with a max contract courts him.
Title possibility: 75%
Keep LeBron possibility: 65%
Possible level of regret: (1 out of 10): 7
• Trade Z, part 1. We trade Z for Antawn Jamison. Jamison takes a couple games, gets acclimated, plays solid and fits in. Z gets bought out by the Wizards, waits 30 days and comes back. Rotations get set and we roll into the playoffs like Sherman through Atlanta. In the off season, having a quality, near-All-Star teammate to pair with Mo Williams and Anderson Varejao, LeBron is slightly more intrigued to stay put in Cleveland.
Title possibility: 95%
Keep LeBron possiblity: 80%
Possible level of regret: 0
• Trade Z, part 2. We trade Z for Antawn Jamison. Jamison takes a couple games, gets acclimated, plays solid and fits in. Z either stays with the Wizards or signs with another team, causing the saddest sight since that oil spill in Saved By The Bell left all of those ducks covered in oil. Rotations get set and we roll into the playoffs. Z, in another uniform, possibly watches the team he gave his heart and soul to for 13 years win a title without him. In the off season, having a quality, near-All-Star teammate to pair with Mo Williams and Anderson Varejao, LeBron is slightly more intrigued to stay put in Cleveland.
Title possibility: 90%
Keep LeBron possiblity: 80%
Possible level of regret: 10
Would all of these scenarios net a title? Do none of them? Which scenarios keep LeBron? Where is John Locke when you need him?
In our singular reality, we know scenario No.1 is out, and we're all rooting for No.2, but No.3 is definitely in play. If scenario 3 happens, I'm going to constantly wonder how scenario 1 would have played out. If we don't win the title, I'm going to wonder if we messed with chemistry too much or inflicted "The Curse of Z" on the team and lost for karmic reasons. I will feel like we should have stood pat.
But I'll feel a little bit of relief too.
Why? Because I don't want to live through a reality where a Cleveland team finally triumphs and takes home a title with the blood of our most loyal soldier on our hands. I don't want to wash the dirt of that trade off in the champagne celebration. I want the championship to feel earned, not coldly acquired. I don't want the joyless, robotic happiness of a Yankees title celebration.
I want the guys that deserve to be there to be there, and really, the only guy that deserves to be there is Z. I know LeBron deserves it the most in one respect because he's responsible for our title hopes, but LeBron doesn't know what it's like to play on shit teams in front of 10 people or face the possibility of retiring early because of injuries. LeBron hasn't spent his entire career loving this city. In fact, we're in constant fear that he doesn't love us. Hell, half the reason Z was traded is because LeBron might leave us this summer.
We had to pry Cleveland out of Z's cold lurpy hands. That's the difference. That's why Z deserves it more than anyone.
But I might want something that's impossible. If pro sports has shown me anything since my birth, it's that evil wins. The Yankees buy players, and they win. The Steelers break a guy's knee in half with a dirty play, and they win. Belicheck spies on teams and he wins. Barry Bonds becomes the homerun champ. Maybe the only way to break our generational losing streak is to trade in our soul and our integrity.
And if that is indeed the price, I'm not sure I'm going to feel it was worth it. I might think it was worth it. (Ah, who am I kidding I'll be drunk for 3 months. I'll feel it was worth it.) And if I do, I'm not sure I should. Layoffs and outsourcing are always worth it to CEOs when they keep the business profitable, but that doesn't necessarily make it right. These are the questions I don't want to answer. I want to win a title and I want to win it as a Cleveland team, not a Boston team.
... But then again, I do want that title monkey off the back of the city. I'm tired of Cleveland just being a city of losers, leading lists of miserable cities and causing laughter among sports pundits. Maybe the greatest sacrifice Z could make for the city he has adopted as his own is to be traded to build this team and let it win a title.
All I know is I read Faust. Deals with the devil don't work how you plan. They might work on paper, but they don't fill the ultimate void in your life. Fortunately, we have an out Faust didn't have. It's scenario 2. The buyout, 30-day loophole. It doesn't guarantee a title much more than any other scenario, but it guarantees us our soul. And I think that's what matters to me the most.
I think.
Just like Lost, there are too many questions and too many possibilities. How will it play out? How will we feel? Is there a perfect plan? We'll definitely get a conclusion, but I'm not sure we'll get an answer.
Go Cavs.
I wish I had this ability with the Cavs for the rest of the season.
After heisting Jamison from Washington and sending Z out of a Cavs uniform for the first time since I taped new episodes of Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Danny Ferry has altered the course of Cleveland sports, for better or worse ... or maybe it's a push. Unfortunately, we can't see all of the realities play out. Here would be our options:
• Stand firm. We keep Z, keep the team intact, ride the 13-game win streak, maintain yet another dominant regular season and make a run at the first title in close to 50 years in Cleveland. Maybe we don't win it, but we have a better chance than last year where matchup problems that were obvious in the regular season ultimately sunk us in the post season. That was corrected in the offseason, or so it seems, so there really is no NEED to make a trade—at least for this year's goals. But beyond this year? Two old centers with expiring contracts and the same average to mediocre supporting class staring the Greatest Free Agent of All Time in the face as every NBA team with a max contract courts him.
Title possibility: 75%
Keep LeBron possibility: 65%
Possible level of regret: (1 out of 10): 7
• Trade Z, part 1. We trade Z for Antawn Jamison. Jamison takes a couple games, gets acclimated, plays solid and fits in. Z gets bought out by the Wizards, waits 30 days and comes back. Rotations get set and we roll into the playoffs like Sherman through Atlanta. In the off season, having a quality, near-All-Star teammate to pair with Mo Williams and Anderson Varejao, LeBron is slightly more intrigued to stay put in Cleveland.
Title possibility: 95%
Keep LeBron possiblity: 80%
Possible level of regret: 0
• Trade Z, part 2. We trade Z for Antawn Jamison. Jamison takes a couple games, gets acclimated, plays solid and fits in. Z either stays with the Wizards or signs with another team, causing the saddest sight since that oil spill in Saved By The Bell left all of those ducks covered in oil. Rotations get set and we roll into the playoffs. Z, in another uniform, possibly watches the team he gave his heart and soul to for 13 years win a title without him. In the off season, having a quality, near-All-Star teammate to pair with Mo Williams and Anderson Varejao, LeBron is slightly more intrigued to stay put in Cleveland.
Title possibility: 90%
Keep LeBron possiblity: 80%
Possible level of regret: 10
Would all of these scenarios net a title? Do none of them? Which scenarios keep LeBron? Where is John Locke when you need him?
.............
In our singular reality, we know scenario No.1 is out, and we're all rooting for No.2, but No.3 is definitely in play. If scenario 3 happens, I'm going to constantly wonder how scenario 1 would have played out. If we don't win the title, I'm going to wonder if we messed with chemistry too much or inflicted "The Curse of Z" on the team and lost for karmic reasons. I will feel like we should have stood pat.
But I'll feel a little bit of relief too.
Why? Because I don't want to live through a reality where a Cleveland team finally triumphs and takes home a title with the blood of our most loyal soldier on our hands. I don't want to wash the dirt of that trade off in the champagne celebration. I want the championship to feel earned, not coldly acquired. I don't want the joyless, robotic happiness of a Yankees title celebration.
I want the guys that deserve to be there to be there, and really, the only guy that deserves to be there is Z. I know LeBron deserves it the most in one respect because he's responsible for our title hopes, but LeBron doesn't know what it's like to play on shit teams in front of 10 people or face the possibility of retiring early because of injuries. LeBron hasn't spent his entire career loving this city. In fact, we're in constant fear that he doesn't love us. Hell, half the reason Z was traded is because LeBron might leave us this summer.
We had to pry Cleveland out of Z's cold lurpy hands. That's the difference. That's why Z deserves it more than anyone.
But I might want something that's impossible. If pro sports has shown me anything since my birth, it's that evil wins. The Yankees buy players, and they win. The Steelers break a guy's knee in half with a dirty play, and they win. Belicheck spies on teams and he wins. Barry Bonds becomes the homerun champ. Maybe the only way to break our generational losing streak is to trade in our soul and our integrity.
And if that is indeed the price, I'm not sure I'm going to feel it was worth it. I might think it was worth it. (Ah, who am I kidding I'll be drunk for 3 months. I'll feel it was worth it.) And if I do, I'm not sure I should. Layoffs and outsourcing are always worth it to CEOs when they keep the business profitable, but that doesn't necessarily make it right. These are the questions I don't want to answer. I want to win a title and I want to win it as a Cleveland team, not a Boston team.
... But then again, I do want that title monkey off the back of the city. I'm tired of Cleveland just being a city of losers, leading lists of miserable cities and causing laughter among sports pundits. Maybe the greatest sacrifice Z could make for the city he has adopted as his own is to be traded to build this team and let it win a title.
All I know is I read Faust. Deals with the devil don't work how you plan. They might work on paper, but they don't fill the ultimate void in your life. Fortunately, we have an out Faust didn't have. It's scenario 2. The buyout, 30-day loophole. It doesn't guarantee a title much more than any other scenario, but it guarantees us our soul. And I think that's what matters to me the most.
I think.
Just like Lost, there are too many questions and too many possibilities. How will it play out? How will we feel? Is there a perfect plan? We'll definitely get a conclusion, but I'm not sure we'll get an answer.
Go Cavs.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Perspectives breed outlooks: Why the Indians still excite me in 2010
I always feel confident about the Cleveland Indians.
Before each new sports season, I always have a ridiculous optimism—Browns, Cavs, Indians—whatever. But with the Indians it is a little different. Regardless of how poor the prior season may have been or whom we may have traded, I maintain a genuine excitement and anticipation.
The reason stems from middle school. I became a cognizant, diehard sports fan in the mid-90s. From my fourth grade year until I was a junior in high school, the Indians were a contender. During that same span of time, the Cleveland Browns moved and the Cavs should have moved. The spotlight was on the Tribe, and the team delivered.
When you take a snapshot since my fourth grade year, which is when you can start counting stuff like "I've been a fan of [fill in thing] for this many years," the Indians have finished .500 or better 11 times out of a possible 16 years. The way I see it, for my sports fan lifetime, the Indians have been relevant nearly 70 percent of the time. The Browns, on the other hand, are batting .125 and the Cavs have only had seven years I would call relevant. Even though the Cavs are clearly the best organization now, during the important junior high to high school years, they were borderline unwatchable. The Indians, as a result, are just closer to my core—more a part of who I am. I am more apt to make excuses for them and more likely to see potential. It's like having a brother that keeps breaking the law. I believe it when he says he's going to change, and I give him more chances to prove it.
Thus, coming off a minor drug possession charge in '08 and some jail time on '09, the Tribe is telling me it's on the road to recovery, and in 2010, we'll have some growing pains, but I'll see they are getting better. And I believe them, so much so that I think they have the potential for 80 wins this year. I do. For real.
By comparison, most older generations of Indians fans suffered through pitiful baseball. It was like that late-'90s stretch from the Cavs times 100. In the four decades before '94, The Indians finished .500 or better 10 times. None of those seasons included any sort of post-season play. The people that lived through any portion of those years, not to mention all of the failures of our other two bumbling teams, are your more prototypical Cleveland fans. The Indians hold no special place whatsoever. They traded another all-star? Typical. What a bunch of losers. They'll never win a title this way. Currently, these people hate the Indians and in no way believe they are going to be good this year (or any year, really).
And maybe those people are right. But I'm not sure either of us are right. I think we're both slaves to our perspectives. In my mind, the Indians are always a couple prospects away from reaching the post season, as evidenced by that continually happening during my tenure as a fan. And of course, that's always an allure baseball has over other sports—farm teams and prospects.
Say what you want about the Dolans and Shapiro, but they deliver on the prospect promise. Obviously the good years aren't as constant as they were under Dick Jacobs and John Hart, but this regime's results back up my belief that if I wait for the development of some top shelf prospects, they will come up to Cleveland and play exciting baseball. A championship? Maybe not, but that can't be the expectation in baseball, and that especially can't be an expectation with a Cleveland team. But the Indians consistently have given me contending or relevant teams.
This promise does not exist for the other teams. Even the Cavs, the superior team at the moment, hang by the LeBron thread. Pull that thread out this summer and the entire thing unravels, leaving us with Lamond Murray and Wesley Person again. The Cavs got lucky with LeBron, and it altered that team's potential, but if he leaves, that team returns from whence it came. In baseball, you have to work with tiers of players for years and years. There is no magic pill that makes it all better. And, from my tiny snapshot of Indians history, the team has always done this, unlike teams like the Royals or Pirates or Reds. This just sets the Indians apart.
I tell you this because despite last year's gigantic turd of a season, and despite the unproven commodities on the roster, I am excited for the Tribe. I even bet a co-worker that they would win 78 games. Seventy-eight games isn't great, but it would be great considering the current stage of the developmental process. However, most folks say they'll finish with about 60-some wins. And really, I'm not even convinced I'm right. But my reasoning rests on that aforementioned optimistic Tribe perspective. LaPorta, Brantley, Choo, Sizemore, Santana.... I can just rattle off names of guys that excite me for various reasons. They are names that support the yearly promise the Tribe provides me—the seedlings of contention. We traded Lee, Martinez and CC the last couple of years? Well, we'll just develop other Lees, CCs and Martinezes. The Indians have developed my faith over the years much like they did Sizemore or Jake Westbrook.
It's not a justifiable reason for belief, but until the Indians start to consistently field losing teams, and until the prospects I read about and anticipate quit delivering—like used to be commonplace during the '60s, '70s and '80s—I will maintain the same outlook. Trading off the prospects after seven years isn't going to bring me to Negative Town like a majority of other Cleveland fans; however, if we quit having guys worth trading, I'll start looking for available real estate there.
But that's a potential reality for another time. Right now? I say 78 wins—a positive 78 wins that lead to better seasons down the road. Yup, from my perspective, we're in good shape.
Go Tribe.
Before each new sports season, I always have a ridiculous optimism—Browns, Cavs, Indians—whatever. But with the Indians it is a little different. Regardless of how poor the prior season may have been or whom we may have traded, I maintain a genuine excitement and anticipation.
The reason stems from middle school. I became a cognizant, diehard sports fan in the mid-90s. From my fourth grade year until I was a junior in high school, the Indians were a contender. During that same span of time, the Cleveland Browns moved and the Cavs should have moved. The spotlight was on the Tribe, and the team delivered.
When you take a snapshot since my fourth grade year, which is when you can start counting stuff like "I've been a fan of [fill in thing] for this many years," the Indians have finished .500 or better 11 times out of a possible 16 years. The way I see it, for my sports fan lifetime, the Indians have been relevant nearly 70 percent of the time. The Browns, on the other hand, are batting .125 and the Cavs have only had seven years I would call relevant. Even though the Cavs are clearly the best organization now, during the important junior high to high school years, they were borderline unwatchable. The Indians, as a result, are just closer to my core—more a part of who I am. I am more apt to make excuses for them and more likely to see potential. It's like having a brother that keeps breaking the law. I believe it when he says he's going to change, and I give him more chances to prove it.
Thus, coming off a minor drug possession charge in '08 and some jail time on '09, the Tribe is telling me it's on the road to recovery, and in 2010, we'll have some growing pains, but I'll see they are getting better. And I believe them, so much so that I think they have the potential for 80 wins this year. I do. For real.
By comparison, most older generations of Indians fans suffered through pitiful baseball. It was like that late-'90s stretch from the Cavs times 100. In the four decades before '94, The Indians finished .500 or better 10 times. None of those seasons included any sort of post-season play. The people that lived through any portion of those years, not to mention all of the failures of our other two bumbling teams, are your more prototypical Cleveland fans. The Indians hold no special place whatsoever. They traded another all-star? Typical. What a bunch of losers. They'll never win a title this way. Currently, these people hate the Indians and in no way believe they are going to be good this year (or any year, really).
And maybe those people are right. But I'm not sure either of us are right. I think we're both slaves to our perspectives. In my mind, the Indians are always a couple prospects away from reaching the post season, as evidenced by that continually happening during my tenure as a fan. And of course, that's always an allure baseball has over other sports—farm teams and prospects.
Say what you want about the Dolans and Shapiro, but they deliver on the prospect promise. Obviously the good years aren't as constant as they were under Dick Jacobs and John Hart, but this regime's results back up my belief that if I wait for the development of some top shelf prospects, they will come up to Cleveland and play exciting baseball. A championship? Maybe not, but that can't be the expectation in baseball, and that especially can't be an expectation with a Cleveland team. But the Indians consistently have given me contending or relevant teams.
This promise does not exist for the other teams. Even the Cavs, the superior team at the moment, hang by the LeBron thread. Pull that thread out this summer and the entire thing unravels, leaving us with Lamond Murray and Wesley Person again. The Cavs got lucky with LeBron, and it altered that team's potential, but if he leaves, that team returns from whence it came. In baseball, you have to work with tiers of players for years and years. There is no magic pill that makes it all better. And, from my tiny snapshot of Indians history, the team has always done this, unlike teams like the Royals or Pirates or Reds. This just sets the Indians apart.
I tell you this because despite last year's gigantic turd of a season, and despite the unproven commodities on the roster, I am excited for the Tribe. I even bet a co-worker that they would win 78 games. Seventy-eight games isn't great, but it would be great considering the current stage of the developmental process. However, most folks say they'll finish with about 60-some wins. And really, I'm not even convinced I'm right. But my reasoning rests on that aforementioned optimistic Tribe perspective. LaPorta, Brantley, Choo, Sizemore, Santana.... I can just rattle off names of guys that excite me for various reasons. They are names that support the yearly promise the Tribe provides me—the seedlings of contention. We traded Lee, Martinez and CC the last couple of years? Well, we'll just develop other Lees, CCs and Martinezes. The Indians have developed my faith over the years much like they did Sizemore or Jake Westbrook.
It's not a justifiable reason for belief, but until the Indians start to consistently field losing teams, and until the prospects I read about and anticipate quit delivering—like used to be commonplace during the '60s, '70s and '80s—I will maintain the same outlook. Trading off the prospects after seven years isn't going to bring me to Negative Town like a majority of other Cleveland fans; however, if we quit having guys worth trading, I'll start looking for available real estate there.
But that's a potential reality for another time. Right now? I say 78 wins—a positive 78 wins that lead to better seasons down the road. Yup, from my perspective, we're in good shape.
Go Tribe.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Et tu, Ferry?
Woke up today to strong rumors suggesting that Amare Stoudemire will come to the Cavs in exchange for JJ Hickson and Zydrunas Ilgauskas.
I'm the guy who wanted a trade at last year's deadline. I'm the guy who wanted a trade for the first few months of this season. I'm the guy who continues to say this team is LeBron and a bunch of scrubs (admittedly, a bit of an overstatement) and would be unstoppable with a legit second-banana All Star to pair with LeBron.
Stoudemire is an All Star. So why am I so bummed out?
Well, it's partly because I no longer feel this team needs to make a trade. We don't have the matchup issues that inevitably ended our season last year. I don't think our league best record is the fool's gold it was last year.
And it's partly because I'm just not a big fan of Stoudemire. From everything I've heard, he's kind of a pouter and a headcase. He needs the ball, valuing his role more than victories. He didn't mesh with Shaq last year. He is an atrocity on defense. He owes a lot of his career success to Steve Nash, and I'm not convinced his potential positives will outweigh his negatives—especially considering how much of our success comes from our elite team chemistry.
But mostly I'm bummed because we'd be trading Z.
The thing is, trading Z makes perfect sense. He's a big expiring contract with a diminished role on the team who could net a starter from another team looking to dump salary. He's like Wally Szczerbiak was last year, you know, when we didn't make a trade to improve the team and inevitably lost in the post season. So what's the difference?
Z is the Cavs! Yes, I said it. LeBron is our savior, but Z is family. We're not sure if LeBron is going to stay with us; Z came from halfway around the world and adopted our city as his own depressed, cold home away from depressed, cold home. He wanted nothing more to stay with the Cavs, even though the team was more unwatchable than an episode of Teen Mom. We Cleveland fans like to think we deserve a title, but we just sit on our couches and watch guys play. Z has been here for 14 years—much of which has been filled with foot injuries and bad teams. If anyone deserves a chance to win a title because of dedication and perseverance, it is Z, not us.
If we trade Z, we're spitting on one of our own. If the move wins us a championship (a large assumption), it's tainted. We're the fans that despise Jim Thome and Carlos Boozer for taking more money and leaving us behind, right? Well then shouldn't we extend our hearts and show loyalty to the proud few who choose to stay here? Can we really root for or enjoy a team that sent a loyal guy packing when it didn't really need to?
Allegedly, Z will be bought out by the Suns and then we will sign him back after 30 days, which would essentially give us Stoudemire straight up for Hickson, which is a pretty good heist, despite everything I've said about Stoudemire. Can't fault that move if it happens (you know, unless it wrecks our chemistry).
But I don't trust it. I watch Big Brother, and when an alliance tells someone, "Hey, we're going to just put you up on the block as a pawn. We're not voting you out. No seriously, we're not. I swear to God, you are just there as a patsy. We're voting out the other person." That person goes out every time.
Not that beggars can be choosers, but that's not how I want to win a title. I don't want the pursuit of the ultimate goal to compromise our integrity as Cleveland fans. I mean, I've seen the people that sell their soul to win Big Brother. They are douchebags. Sure, they are douchebags with half a million dollars, but they are douchebags nonetheless. Just keep that in mind when you watch Z walk out that door.
I'm the guy who wanted a trade at last year's deadline. I'm the guy who wanted a trade for the first few months of this season. I'm the guy who continues to say this team is LeBron and a bunch of scrubs (admittedly, a bit of an overstatement) and would be unstoppable with a legit second-banana All Star to pair with LeBron.
Stoudemire is an All Star. So why am I so bummed out?
Well, it's partly because I no longer feel this team needs to make a trade. We don't have the matchup issues that inevitably ended our season last year. I don't think our league best record is the fool's gold it was last year.
And it's partly because I'm just not a big fan of Stoudemire. From everything I've heard, he's kind of a pouter and a headcase. He needs the ball, valuing his role more than victories. He didn't mesh with Shaq last year. He is an atrocity on defense. He owes a lot of his career success to Steve Nash, and I'm not convinced his potential positives will outweigh his negatives—especially considering how much of our success comes from our elite team chemistry.
But mostly I'm bummed because we'd be trading Z.
The thing is, trading Z makes perfect sense. He's a big expiring contract with a diminished role on the team who could net a starter from another team looking to dump salary. He's like Wally Szczerbiak was last year, you know, when we didn't make a trade to improve the team and inevitably lost in the post season. So what's the difference?
Z is the Cavs! Yes, I said it. LeBron is our savior, but Z is family. We're not sure if LeBron is going to stay with us; Z came from halfway around the world and adopted our city as his own depressed, cold home away from depressed, cold home. He wanted nothing more to stay with the Cavs, even though the team was more unwatchable than an episode of Teen Mom. We Cleveland fans like to think we deserve a title, but we just sit on our couches and watch guys play. Z has been here for 14 years—much of which has been filled with foot injuries and bad teams. If anyone deserves a chance to win a title because of dedication and perseverance, it is Z, not us.
If we trade Z, we're spitting on one of our own. If the move wins us a championship (a large assumption), it's tainted. We're the fans that despise Jim Thome and Carlos Boozer for taking more money and leaving us behind, right? Well then shouldn't we extend our hearts and show loyalty to the proud few who choose to stay here? Can we really root for or enjoy a team that sent a loyal guy packing when it didn't really need to?
Allegedly, Z will be bought out by the Suns and then we will sign him back after 30 days, which would essentially give us Stoudemire straight up for Hickson, which is a pretty good heist, despite everything I've said about Stoudemire. Can't fault that move if it happens (you know, unless it wrecks our chemistry).
But I don't trust it. I watch Big Brother, and when an alliance tells someone, "Hey, we're going to just put you up on the block as a pawn. We're not voting you out. No seriously, we're not. I swear to God, you are just there as a patsy. We're voting out the other person." That person goes out every time.
Not that beggars can be choosers, but that's not how I want to win a title. I don't want the pursuit of the ultimate goal to compromise our integrity as Cleveland fans. I mean, I've seen the people that sell their soul to win Big Brother. They are douchebags. Sure, they are douchebags with half a million dollars, but they are douchebags nonetheless. Just keep that in mind when you watch Z walk out that door.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Weathermen are useless
I just want to put this out there: the job of the weatherman is obsolete.
Follow me on this. When you want to see if it's going to snow, what do you do? You go to weather.com and check the radar. Or you go to the weather channel and wait for the Local on the 8s radar. Or you turn on your local news and wait to see the radar. Or you turn on a local channel and hope an obtrusive small section of map is on there in order to—say it with me now—check the radar.
Notice a pattern? I couldn't tell you what makes a cloud, or what causes wind or really anything about why weather works—but I know if there is a green blob coming toward my county, that's not good. If it's red, that's even worse. Bottom line, you don't need to be a "meteorologist" to figure out if it's going to snow nowadays because of all these highly touted Doppler radar systems.
Once weathermen decided to give us a peak behind the curtain, to show us their green and red blobs, their whole scam ended. And yet, there they are still, standing there with their clicker, pointing at stuff, making bad jokes and interrupting our shows to talk about high winds. (Don't you just want to punch Mark Johnson in the face when that happens? Or how about Channel 5's weather alert with its high-pitched beeping noise. Seriously? A beeping noise to announce the presence of your little on-screen weather radar? Who does that help? Blind people who can't even see the update?)
Do we really need them to tell us that stuff? In this age of budget cutting and staff reductions, you're telling me a news room can't tell Jeff Tanchak, "Hey buddy, I think we're just going to throw the Doppler up there and let everyone look at it for a few seconds and call it a day. No, seriously, don't feel the need to come back in. We're good."
The weatherman should go the way of the milkman and the autoworker. I don't want to take jobs away, I'm just pleading for consistency. When a job is made unnecessary because of inefficiency or new technology or just because society moved on, that job always goes away or at least loses its prominence. And yet, there's Mark Johnson and his stupid haircut interrupting my favorite show when I can plainly see the red blob and its proximity to my city without him.
Get out of here.
Go Cavs.
Follow me on this. When you want to see if it's going to snow, what do you do? You go to weather.com and check the radar. Or you go to the weather channel and wait for the Local on the 8s radar. Or you turn on your local news and wait to see the radar. Or you turn on a local channel and hope an obtrusive small section of map is on there in order to—say it with me now—check the radar.
Notice a pattern? I couldn't tell you what makes a cloud, or what causes wind or really anything about why weather works—but I know if there is a green blob coming toward my county, that's not good. If it's red, that's even worse. Bottom line, you don't need to be a "meteorologist" to figure out if it's going to snow nowadays because of all these highly touted Doppler radar systems.
Once weathermen decided to give us a peak behind the curtain, to show us their green and red blobs, their whole scam ended. And yet, there they are still, standing there with their clicker, pointing at stuff, making bad jokes and interrupting our shows to talk about high winds. (Don't you just want to punch Mark Johnson in the face when that happens? Or how about Channel 5's weather alert with its high-pitched beeping noise. Seriously? A beeping noise to announce the presence of your little on-screen weather radar? Who does that help? Blind people who can't even see the update?)
Do we really need them to tell us that stuff? In this age of budget cutting and staff reductions, you're telling me a news room can't tell Jeff Tanchak, "Hey buddy, I think we're just going to throw the Doppler up there and let everyone look at it for a few seconds and call it a day. No, seriously, don't feel the need to come back in. We're good."
The weatherman should go the way of the milkman and the autoworker. I don't want to take jobs away, I'm just pleading for consistency. When a job is made unnecessary because of inefficiency or new technology or just because society moved on, that job always goes away or at least loses its prominence. And yet, there's Mark Johnson and his stupid haircut interrupting my favorite show when I can plainly see the red blob and its proximity to my city without him.
Get out of here.
Go Cavs.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Browns quarterback assessment, part 2
In part one of the Browns QB assessment, I compared Quinn to a variety of other NFL starters at comparable stages in their careers. What we discovered is that Quinn was a little less than his counterparts, nearly equaling the statistical atrocity that is JaMarcus Russell. In part 2, we're going to try and be a little bit more fair to Quinn. Instead of stacking his numbers against other QBs in the league, guys who should be the basis for comparison, we'll stack his numbers up against all the other starting QBs the Browns have had since 1999—the dregs of the dregs/ his peers. If Quinn's numbers drift to the bottom of this pile of castoffs, hasbeens and neverwases, then that says something. No excuses for being at the bottom of this shit sandwich.
I am comparing the first full year each of these jabronis had as a starting QB for the Browns. Bold numbers are for the best in each category and red is for the worst (minimum 8 games, sorry Spergon and Luke ... I've highlighted them in pink just for fun.)
.......................G.....comp%.....yds.....TDs....INTs.....QB rating
Couch, T......... 15.....55...........2,447....15........13...........73
Wynn, S.......... 7......40............167........0.........1...........41
Holcomb, K. ...10.... 63 .........1,797.....10.......12.............74
Garcia, J......... 11.....57............1,731 ....10........9...........76
Mcown, L.. ..... 5.....49............608.......4..........7...........52
Dilfer, T. .........11....59.8.........2,321.....11.......12...........77
Frye, C. .......... 13....64...........2,454......10.......17.........72
Anderson, D... 16....56............3,787.....29......19........82.5
Quinn, B ........10.....53...........1,339......8........7..........67
OK, so if we're excluding the extra-special cases of Wynn and McCown, whom we never really considered starting options at the time, Quinn's numbers are the worst. Granted, not by much over some of the guys—and he took a little bit better care of the ball—but still, that's not good. I mean, we HATED pretty much every guy on this list during various stages of their careers here.
Just out of curiosity, let's see the combined stats of McCown and Wynn. Maybe if we combine them, we'll create a QB that's worse than Quinn, numbers-wise at least.
McWynn, S.L. ....12...45.........775.........4..........8..........47
There we go. Does that make anyone feel better about Quinn at QB next year? Umm, no? OK, well, I've got one last basis for comparison—wins and losses. Sure, Quinn's numbers are the worst, for the most part, but did his intangibles lead to team success? Maybe the numbers aren't telling the whole story.
'99 Couch = 2-13
'03 Holcomb = 2-6
'04 Garcia = 2-8
'05 Dilfer = 4-7
'06 Frye = 3-9
'07 Anderson = 9-6
'09 Quinn = 2-7
Welp, that didn't help. Jesus. Anyone else want to stab pencils in their eyes? What a thoroughly depressing post this is.
So, Quinn didn't stack up well against his contemporaries, AND he didn't stack up against other Browns QBs. He drifted to the bottom of a list prominently involving Trent Dilfer. Seriously, other than the flash-in-the-pan season from Anderson, that is the maybe the worst list of QB seasons ever, and Quinn couldn't even move to the middle of the pack.
I know the sob stories about not having much to work with and all the regime changes and blah blah blah, hell, I even believe them to some extent, but let's get real. It doesn't seem like we're witnessing the growth of a young Joe Montana here.
So Chris, why don't we go with Anderson then? I mean, he did have that one good year right? Maybe he's the guy.
Good question. Let me analyze that as in-depth as I can...
Fuck no.
So where does this leave us? If Quinn's numbers shout "Bum!" and we DO NOT want to go back to the DA experiment, does that mean we should *gulp* draft another QB and try again? Or do we trust in the powers of Holmgren, draft some more WR talent, let Quinn gel with the current guys and the gameplan and give him one last shot to prove himself?
We'll leave that part of the discussion for part 3.
I am comparing the first full year each of these jabronis had as a starting QB for the Browns. Bold numbers are for the best in each category and red is for the worst (minimum 8 games, sorry Spergon and Luke ... I've highlighted them in pink just for fun.)
.......................G.....comp%.....yds.....TDs....INTs.....QB rating
Couch, T......... 15.....55...........2,447....15........13...........73
Wynn, S.......... 7......40............167........0.........1...........41
Holcomb, K. ...10.... 63 .........1,797.....10.......12.............74
Garcia, J......... 11.....57............1,731 ....10........9...........76
Mcown, L.. ..... 5.....49............608.......4..........7...........52
Dilfer, T. .........11....59.8.........2,321.....11.......12...........77
Frye, C. .......... 13....64...........2,454......10.......17.........72
Anderson, D... 16....56............3,787.....29......19........82.5
Quinn, B ........10.....53...........1,339......8........7..........67
OK, so if we're excluding the extra-special cases of Wynn and McCown, whom we never really considered starting options at the time, Quinn's numbers are the worst. Granted, not by much over some of the guys—and he took a little bit better care of the ball—but still, that's not good. I mean, we HATED pretty much every guy on this list during various stages of their careers here.
Just out of curiosity, let's see the combined stats of McCown and Wynn. Maybe if we combine them, we'll create a QB that's worse than Quinn, numbers-wise at least.
McWynn, S.L. ....12...45.........775.........4..........8..........47
There we go. Does that make anyone feel better about Quinn at QB next year? Umm, no? OK, well, I've got one last basis for comparison—wins and losses. Sure, Quinn's numbers are the worst, for the most part, but did his intangibles lead to team success? Maybe the numbers aren't telling the whole story.
'99 Couch = 2-13
'03 Holcomb = 2-6
'04 Garcia = 2-8
'05 Dilfer = 4-7
'06 Frye = 3-9
'07 Anderson = 9-6
'09 Quinn = 2-7
Welp, that didn't help. Jesus. Anyone else want to stab pencils in their eyes? What a thoroughly depressing post this is.
So, Quinn didn't stack up well against his contemporaries, AND he didn't stack up against other Browns QBs. He drifted to the bottom of a list prominently involving Trent Dilfer. Seriously, other than the flash-in-the-pan season from Anderson, that is the maybe the worst list of QB seasons ever, and Quinn couldn't even move to the middle of the pack.
I know the sob stories about not having much to work with and all the regime changes and blah blah blah, hell, I even believe them to some extent, but let's get real. It doesn't seem like we're witnessing the growth of a young Joe Montana here.
So Chris, why don't we go with Anderson then? I mean, he did have that one good year right? Maybe he's the guy.
Good question. Let me analyze that as in-depth as I can...
Fuck no.
So where does this leave us? If Quinn's numbers shout "Bum!" and we DO NOT want to go back to the DA experiment, does that mean we should *gulp* draft another QB and try again? Or do we trust in the powers of Holmgren, draft some more WR talent, let Quinn gel with the current guys and the gameplan and give him one last shot to prove himself?
We'll leave that part of the discussion for part 3.
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