I love sports. I've been a Cleveland sports fan since birth. I once heard that being a lifelong Cleveland sports fan is like having a chronic illness. Yep, that sounds about right. There is no cure. You just get used to the symptoms; the simultaneous feelings of hope and hopelessness. In addition to my love of sports, I have a huge passion for writing. I write about comic books, professional wrestling, concert reviews, and my own fiction ideas. Not sports. I've thought about sports writing a few times, but every time I put pen to paper the words don't come out. Comics, wrestling, and concerts are all about being entertained and how I perceive the finished product. Sports are about competition with a clear cut winner and loser. Entertainment is based on the opinion of the viewer, while sports are facts. There will always be someone who knows more sports facts than I do. Specifics. Like this pitcher's ERA when facing lefties on Mondays and Thursdays, or this running back's yards after contact when coming off a loss of ten points or more. I'm ok with not having a wealth of knowledge like that. It's not the facts I don't know that keep me from writing about sports. It's the facts I DO know. I know my teams lose.
I was born in '86, so my memory of the Browns doesn't exactly stretch back to the glory days. My favorite Browns memory didn't have anything to do with the '64 NFL Championship or the Kardiac Kids. My Browns memory occurred during the regular season of the '94 campaign. I was only 8 years old, and my team was taking on "America's Team", the Dallas Cowboys. The game itself does not hold any significance in history, other than it was the first Browns game I watched by myself. I watched football with my dad, usually at his request. But if he wasn't home, or took a nap, then I had more important things to do involving Legos or Mega Man. Not this time. He fell asleep on the couch, but the omnipotent Sports Gods knew that I needed to see this game. The entire crux of my Browns fandom would rest on this game. With the clock winding down in the 4th quarter, the Cowboys were driving while my Browns held on to a slight lead. The explosive, championship caliber, Dallas offense was matched up against a vastly underrated Cleveland defense. Last play of the game, Aikmen drops back, throws a pass, it's complete, but he's DOWN AT THE 1! Browns win! MY Cleveland Browns go TO Dallas and knock off the Cowboys! Ever since then I've known that my team could beat any team out there. It happened. I saw it with my own eyes. They went toe-to-toe with the best team in the league and won.
Then they moved away. I was too young to realize the gravity of the situation. I guess I thought every team goes away at some point. Nothing is forever. It's not even worth mentioning anything that has transpired since the Browns came back in '99.
I wasn't a baseball fan as a kid. I mainly watched football and played soccer, but always rooted for the Indians if they were on TV. So many people talk about the '95 and '97 World Series, but really, to me, they didn't matter. Again, I was young and naive, and thought the Indians would always be good and didn't appreciate the importance of a World Series appearance. Sometime after I graduated high school, baseball just clicked. I became a real Tribe fan. I started paying attention to spring training and following the team's every move. I preferred listening to the radio broadcast with Tom Hamilton calling the plays opposed to watching on TV. 2007 was magic. I witnessed, in person, an incredible comeback against the Tigers in June. That comeback seemed to ignite the team for the rest of the season. The Tigers were good that year, but we had C.C., Fausto, Grady, Hafner, Victor... the lineup was solid from top to bottom. They finished with the best record in baseball, but still the national media ignored them. In the first round of the playoffs, they squared off with the hated Yankees. Most people remember this series for the game when it appeared the Sports Gods themselves were willing the Indians to victory by having small flying insects, midges, descend upon Jacobs Field. Those insects were everywhere. Sticking to the players' bodies. The Yankees were spraying bug spray out by the mound to get rid of the midges. It didn't matter. Fate had already intervened. The Cleveland Indians were on their way to the ALCS. It seemed like a storybook. First they defeated the evil empire that is the New York Yankees, then had a comfortable 3-games-to-1 lead on America's sweetheart, the Boston Red Sox, with Game 5 in Cleveland... but C.C. Sabathia couldn't close the deal. The series went back to Boston. The magic had run out. Adding insult to injury, releif pitcher, Paul Byrd's name was released the day of Game 7 to have allegedly used performance enhancing drugs and was under investigation. Who released his name? A fron office executive of the Boston Red Sox who just happened to also be involved with this investigation. The claims were false, but the Tribe lost Game 7. For me, that was so much more heartbreaking than '95 or '97 combined. I know Jose' Mesa blew it in '95.... but that wasn't MY team. This one was. 2007 will always be remembered with a smile and a tear. That season made me a lifetime Indians fan.
2007 also marked the year that LeBron James took the Cavaliers to the NBA Finals. I'm not a basketball fan. At all. I cheered for the Cavs, simply because they were from Cleveland. I remember Mark Price from back in the day, but basketball was never my thing. I have never told anyone this, but when the Cavs made the Finals, I secretly wished they wouldn't win. I didn't love them like I did my Browns or Indians. Why should they get to end the "curse"? I wouldn't enjoy it was much if it was the Cavs. Yes... I said it: for stupid, selfish reasons, I hoped that a Cleveland team would lose a championship. I got my wish. They got swept by a far superior San Antonio Spurs team. It's my fault the Cavaliers lost... the same Sports Gods that I had crossed paths with many times before were teaching me a lesson about being careful what I wished for. It wasn't LeBron's fault, his supporting cast's fault, or Dan Gilbert's fault. It was my fault. And you all know how that story ends. The Cavs haven't made a Finals appearance since, and someone thought their talents were better suited in South Beach. I'm sorry Cavs fans. My Bad.
So here I am in January of 2013. The Browns just named, to everyone's surprise, Rob Chudzynski their head coach. Terry Francona is the new manager of the Indians, and Nick Swisher seems like a great off season acquisition. Time will tell. Last year Kyrie Irving was rookie of the year, but it seems like the Cavs are well on their way to earning another lottery pick. Writing this has been a nice release of emotion, but ultimately depressing. Maybe I will write about sports again someday when my teams stop losing.
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