The nobility of sports fandom

I actually had a little free time yesterday afternoon, which is a rarity, especially for a Sunday. I had a choice between two activities: Watching the Browns game, or pounding myself in the head repeatedly with a hammer.

In the end, I chose the Browns game, which I realized was more painful but also probably more of a character builder.

I was born a Browns fan. I grew up a Browns fan. I am a Browns fan now. I will always be a Browns fan, at least as long as there is a team of non-athletic individuals who wear orange helmets on Sunday afternoons in existence to root for.

For those who may not be football fans -- or sports fans in general -- you have to understand the utter futility of being a Cleveland Browns supporter. The Browns lose, and they lose a lot. Sometimes they lose in spectacular fashion. Other times they just lose in a mundane way, falling behind early and never really appearing to be playing the same sport as the opposing team.

The Browns have not won a championship since 1964. In fact, NO major Cleveland sports team has won a championship since 1964. I was born in 1969. I root for Cleveland sports teams. You do the math.

There was a time when the Browns were good, and I remember it well. For about 15 minutes in 1987, we were one of the best teams in the league. Not THE best team, mind you, but still one of the best. Did we ever actually win anything? Did we ever make it to the Super Bowl? Well, no, but we did get a lot of merchandising and marketing mileage out of calling the part of our stadium where the drunk fans sit "The Dawg Pound."

Why, then, do I put myself through this every Sunday during the football season? Because the Browns are my team. They represent my city. And I am NOT a fair-weather fan. There are many people in Cleveland who root for our hated rival, a team I dislike greatly and whose name I don't even like to type. Let's just call them the Spitsburgh Squealers.

I have no problem with people from Pittsburgh -- or Spitsburgh, whatever -- supporting the Squealers. They SHOULD. It's their team. But when you grow up in Cleveland and defect to them, no matter how successful they've been over the years, you are to be scorned. You have no backbone. You need to fast-forward to the 1:10 mark of this video for a better understanding of your true nature.

There is a certain honor in backing a perennial loser. There is strength of character that is to be praised. In supporting the athletic doormat, you show yourself to be loyal and true, a paragon of sports virtue.

Or at least that's what I want to believe. And because I'm doing the writing here, I declare it to be so. If you're looking for someone who deals in reality, you've come to the wrong blog, buddy.