This is what it’s come to for the Cleveland Indians: a choice between a guy who hasn’t been able to get a job in the big leagues in seven years, or a guy whose previous team routinely lost 100 games. Bobby Valentine or Manny Acta. Or maybe a guy whose never managed much more than a personal budget and a minor-league team. Picking between Ketchup, Onion, and Mustard in the daily Hot Dog Race at Progressive Field is more appealing.
… Then there’s Brady Quinn and the real reason he’s on the bench. Or the real reasons — about 11 million of them. Quinn’s contract calls for him to earn nearly $11 million this year if he plays 70% of the team’s snaps this year. That’s slightly more than 11 games. Quinn’s played 2½ games so far. The Browns have 10 left. Maybe Quinn should offer Derek Anderson a cool million bucks to fake an arm injury. That seems to be the only way to get DA on the bench. A 41.7 quarterback rating sure hasn’t done the trick.
… Unless the flu knocks Anderson out. If a Browns top defender doesn’t need surgery, seems like he’s sidelined by Influenza A. Maybe Quinn can hang out with with Shaun Rogers and Kamerion Wimbley, catch something, and transfer it to DA. You know, if hiring someone to smash Anderson in the leg doesn’t work.
… With all this swirling around the Browns, why even bother rooting for them? (Note: when I first typed this I spelled “rooting” as “rotting”. Freudian slip, or much more appropriate?) Screenwriter Geoff LaTulippe, a Cleveland native, has given us 10 reasons, including this gem:
When we DO win — and oh, one day we will — it is going to be the most magical, terribly profound thing that ever was. At this point, I’m willing to bet that it will be more important and satisfying than my wife and kid, neither of which exist at the moment.
Look at Red Sox Nation — 2004 happens, and everything is whisked away in an instant without a care. What curse? Babe Ruth what? Bill Buckner who?Can you imagine the most painful memories of your failure-riddled brain laid fallow in the passing of one moment? Red Right 88, The Drive, The Fum … the aforementioned AFC Championship Game, the Modell Move … all of them gone? Forever? One Super Bowl win. That’s all it takes.
Of course, you sort of have to ignore that, as an organization, the Browns are light years away from that moment in the talent department, the owner is apparently allergic to good coaching moves, they try to kill all their best players with staph infections and … screw it, I’ve just decided to go curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep.
But then again, if the Arizona Cardinals can get to a Super Bowl …
… Oh, don’t forget, the Cavs season starts Tuesday. Yes, yes, I know the exhibition season started weeks ago. I pay about as much attention to that as I do to daytime soap operas and Danielle Steel books. The real season has yet to start. Or, as many lifelong Clevelanders call it, the Countdown to LeBron James Leaving Town Season.