For the Love of the Game

I pay more attention to sports than any man should. It is the first section I turn to when opening the newspaper. At night, I check box scores for every game just so I can see who to drop from my fantasy team. And at this moment on my desk, a creepy statuette of a 7’3” Lithuanian man holding a basketball stares blankly at me. And I know that it doesn’t make much sense.

It all makes even less sense in this city. Because even though Lebron has created a buzz nobody here has ever seen before, the 35 year history of the Cavs franchise is full of close calls, bad management, Danny Ferry trades, and a fat Shawn Kemp. Michael Jordan’s last second jumper over Craig Ehlo in the ’89 playoffs has become part of MJ folklore and fodder for Gatorade commercials. One time team owner, Ted Stepien, was so inept at running the organization that the NBA was forced to change league rules in order to keep him from making stupid trades. And the greatest moment in an otherwise lusterless team history came in 1976 when the Cavaliers stunned Elvin Hayes’s Washington Bullets in the “Miracle of Richfield”, which boosted the team all the way into the Eastern Conference Finals, only so they could lose easily to the Celtics in six games. In order to get a player like Lebron James, a team must at one point be the absolute worst in basketball. The Cavs have been that team three times.

In even worse shape, the Cleveland Indians have not won a World Series since 1948; a fact made worse since fellow sufferers in the Red Sox and White Sox have both very recently ended their streaks of pain (and yet, Boston fans still won’t shut up for some reason). The ’54 team was one of the best in modern history, and was swept in four games by Willie Mayes and the Dodgers. After trading fan favorite, Rocky Colavito in 1959, the Indians spent the next 35 seasons in the American League cellar, during which time the most memorable moment came during 1974’s infamous 10-cent beer night (yes, it is even more memorable than Lenny Barker’s perfect game). Following a few close brushes with greatness in the 90s, the team was sold to a man who simply cannot afford to own a major league team. Meaning now that the Tribe can never hold on to talented players or sign expensive free agents, and the team’s fortunes depend solely upon luck and general manager Mark Shapiro’s guile. Oh, and the Indians also possess the most offensive mascot in all of sports this side of the Florida State Seminole.

The Browns meanwhile, are inexplicably Cleveland’s most beloved franchise. The summary of the team’s history is too long and too upsetting to recount fully, but the highlights include - Jim Brown retiring early to star in 60s blaxploitation films, firing Paul Brown, the Drive, the Fumble, cutting Bernie Kosar, watching the team flee to Baltimore, watching Art Modell win the Superbowl, watching Bill Belichick win three Superbowls, the bottle throwing incident against Jacksonville, drafting Kellen Winslow, and finally February 5^th, 2006.

The closest this city has come to winning in recent years, was 1998 when the now defunct Cleveland Rockers claimed the Eastern Conference Championship, while somehow managing to miss the WNBA Finals that year. That banner can now be seen hanging "proudly" and all alone from the rafters of Quicken Loans Arena.

Still, after all the pain, torture, and disappointment, Cleveland still devotes itself to its sports. We haven’t been able to claim a winner in over forty years. The teams have been terribly mismanaged. And no matter how hard our players play, we can never seem to get ahead.

Cleveland sport reflects Cleveland itself. And even through all of the heartache, we stick around in hopes that things just might take a turn for the better next season. That one of these days, Cleveland will win. There’s always hope at least. Sports are important to us. And maybe it doesn’t make so little sense after all.

(...I hate the Steelers.)