Why would anyone in their right mind continue to be a "fan" of an organization mired in total failure for the last 10 years? Why would anyone - regardless of team success - waste an ounce of energy or emotion on a excessively capitalistic endeavour such as the modern NFL, full of childish millionaires?
I suppose I could say something about tradition, entertainment value, or love of the sport, but that doesn't fully describe why I am and continue to be a fan. I do love the game of football and I occasionally find NFL games entertaining. But none of that describes why thousands of other people pour so much passion and energy into being fans of a franchise that gives them so little gratification in return.
Like many Browns fans, I blame my father.
Now, Columnist Terry Pluto has covered this angle and even the central question in this blog post in great detail. I can relate to a lot of what he writes and the stories of other Browns fans that he shares in his books and columns. But this is my space and I want to share my story. Please share yours in the comments section below.
I wasn't old enough to pay attention to pro football until about 1986. At least, that is the first year I can recollect personal memories about the Browns. That season, I was seven years old. Of course, the '86 season ended with "The Drive" and made John Elway an instant legend. I remember being disappointed, but the excitement of that game had me hooked. My father was a pretty quiet guy and the only thing that ever really got him outwardly excited was watching the Browns.
Through his love of the Browns, my father taught me about the game of football. It became a mutual interest that we've bonded over ever since. When roster cuts were looming, my father would come find me, pad and pencil in hand, and we would meticulously go through the training camp roster trying to figure out who they should keep or release at each position.
We even trekked up to Berea a few times to watch training camp. I was the only person trying to get autographs one day that knew who Ron Wolfley was. Everybody else was yelling his number - and he just kept walking past everyone. I shouted, "Hey Ron - how about an autograph?" and he stopped in his tracks, turned around with a big smile and came right over to me. It was the only autograph he signed before heading inside to lift weights. I, a kid less than 10 years old, knew who he was because my dad showed me articles about how the running back/special teams maniac loved to write savage poetry about the game of football.
I used to beg my dad to play this ancient NFL board game from the 1960's with me. It involved no action at all except rolling dice, moving little cardboard pieces, and endless stacks of white, type-written cards with player and team ratings which had to be referenced constantly to know what happened. It had to be the most archaic and complicated board game version of football ever created. But playing that game with my father taught me about strategy and terminology. I also learned that the 1960's Oakland Raiders were better than the 1960's Cleveland Browns, at least on paper (my dad always took the Raiders and pummeled me).
Watching the Browns with my father as I grew up, he also used the games as a way to teach me about being a good athlete. He would show me what to watch: how Eric Metcalf would use a long, bounding jump to change directions in traffic, how Bernie Kosar would dissect a defense with his eyes, how Dixon and Minniefield would jump a route because they had studied the film all week. I soaked it all in and applied what I saw to any game I played, no matter the sport. I practiced the physical moves in my backyard every Sunday.
For years, the NFL Draft has served as a guys' bonding weekend for me and my father. He follows the draft process with great attention and has for years. He is an amateur draft guru. We plant ourselves in front of the TV for a couple of days and talk football and other things. He keeps track of every pick on a long draft board/list so when the Browns' pick comes up, he knows who is available and where they rank via several scouting publications.
Even now, as an adult with my own family, my dad and I both keep track of all the Browns' news and try to talk once a week about what's been going on and our opinions about it all. We talk about other things too, but the Browns have always served as an interest that bonds us together. I grew up with two older sisters and no brothers - just me and dad as the only guys in the house. Talking about and watching the Browns with my dad was a comfort zone, a thing we could always share and discuss as just a couple of guys.
If it weren't for the connection to my father, I'd have given up being a Browns fan long ago. But following this team serves a greater purpose for me and my father. I have two sons of my own now, so it gets difficult to keep in touch as much as we used to. But I'll probably pass my father's passion for the Browns on to my boys. And even though they'll probably rue the fact they are Browns fans at some point, eventually they'll appreciate it for the same reasons I do now.
No comments:
Post a Comment