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.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
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.
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