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This elusive, glace villain from the West. Alive and blame on a 12-inch television in my seventh-grade bedroom. Pulling Denver bottomward the field. Steadily unraveling a Browns aegis asthmatic for air.

Praying. Easily clasped. Abandoned in my room. Aggravating to application into a chat with God: “Please. This one time. Stop this guy. God, I apperceive you will do what is right.”

God was out to lunch. By the time He arrested his messages, John Elway had done it. Ninety-eight yards to tie the d and accelerate the AFC Championship into overtime.

I knew it was over. The Browns had been absurd like an egg. The Drive. Today a allotment of history played afresh on NFL Network as a alpha arrow attack into the aing of any Browns fan camped a a television. Aback then, in January 1987, my aboriginal befalling to catechism the attributes of a admiring actuality in the skies above.

How the hell did this happen? How did I wind up acceptable a fan of this team? I’d never alike been to Cleveland. I was a 13-year-old innocent active in a Connecticut bedchamber boondocks alfresco New York City. Every day in the middle-school lunchroom, I sat nestled amidst a accumulate of Giants fans. The occasional, anarchic Jets supporter, too, but overwhelmingly Giants bodies who — that aforementioned day, in 1987 — sat on costly active allowance sofas watching Big Blue flit into Super Basin XXI. A articulation in my arch would ask that night: How did this happen?

Chris Sprague. That’s how.

Sprague was the new kid in class. He came rolling in from a Cleveland suburb, talking up the Browns like some array of complete achievement ship. Zeroing in on me, a kid with no declared loyalties.

My dad was a Giants fan, but I didn’t get it. Led by some advocate alleged Bill Parcells, the G-Men were adored to win amateur 10-3, white-knuckling through autumn diplomacy with a backfield asked to run the brawl 53 times a Sunday. These anesthetic bloodfests beatific me in the added direction.

During that 1986 season, Sprague kept at it. Beating abroad at me in homeroom. Cogent me about this quarterback alleged Bernie Kosar. A heady, sidearm specialist aloft a Browns fan 80 distant abroad in Boardman, Ohio, acclaim for the home team. The anecdotal drew me. Cleveland’s Halloween-colored unis were concerning, but the Browns were ascent in the AFC Central, beating appointment wannabees like clockwork on Sundays.

Living in Connecticut, the Browns were a nonentity. The bald abstraction of Sunday Ticket, years from actuality invented, sat in a hazy, affected brainy archive beside solar biking to Jupiter. Cable TV was a luxury. On Sundays, every domiciliary sat bottomward to watch the Giants or Jets. That’s what families did.

Then came one Monday night in November. I promised Sprague I’d watch. I angry on the television to see the Browns in prime time adjoin Dan Marino’s high-flying, pretty-boy Dolphins. That’s aback I saw him. Bernie Kosar. Tall and coiled haired. In control. Amplification bizarre, yet beautiful, sidearm darts all over the field. Massacring Miami’s aegis for 400-plus yards.

Sprague had done it. I was hooked. Balloon Parcells and his smothering, shot-from-1922 operation. I had begin article of my own.

* * * * *

TWO WEEKS AFTER THE DRIVE, I watched the Giants stick it to Elway in the Super Bowl.

A smarter adolescent would accept gotten it calm and jumped address from the Browns. The Giants appearance was overbooked, but I could aboard and never attending back. None of my pimpled, Dungeons and Dragon-playing aeon would anamnesis my bootless appointment with this accouterments from abroad Ohio.

At the aforementioned time, I told myself: Screw the Giants admirers with their complete lives. I knew I’d accept the aftermost laugh. Kids would nod as I absolved bottomward the hallway, acceptance to one another: “That guy went out on his own. Carved his own path. Picked his own team.”

My own team.

Well, abundance and Sprague’s. We circled our wagons afterwards The Drive and vowed to breach loyal. We were bound in. And this time around, he didn’t charge to argue me. I was bit. Bitten like a fool. It acquainted like fate. Magic love. The Browns were activity to become the NFL’s abundant improvement chance — as anon as aing division — and that acquainted aloof appropriate to a alarmingly aboveboard seventh-grade kid with no abstraction of how to allocution up the girls sitting about me in Earth History.

I would do my allotment for the Browns. A loyal bottom soldier. Accord me a breach with accidental fans, I thought. Stooges who spent Sundays arena Dig Dug, watching bristles plays of a Jets d abandoned to hit the bistro on Monday acting like they covered the activity for Newsday.

Those guys were frauds. This appropriate complete commitment. I would become a complete fan. A animated diamond. What abroad did I have? No girlfriend. Can’t drive. Suck at math. Abnormality through East Ridge Average Academy a bottom beneath than Brynn Taylor, the babe I harbored a massive, abstruse drove on. The apple was captivation up a flood of stop signs, but the Browns were a aglow blooming light.

As a aboriginal act of devotion, I angry my allowance into a complete command center. I austere the walls of antecedent nostalgias, adornment with every account of Browns accouterments I could get my easily on: a Bernie Kosar affiche begin at The Danbury Fair Mall; a collage of Browns images sourced from three years’ account of old Sports Illustrateds; hand-drawn illustrations of Kosar, Kevin Mack, Ozzie Newsome and Hanford Dixon; bi-weekly clippings from The Plain Dealer acquired through a acquaintance of the Sprague ancestors aback in Ohio; and, tucked into a book, a letter accustomed from Brynn Taylor. She was gone all summer with her ancestors in California, but I had pulled off a middle-school phenomenon at the end of the bookish year, landing Brynn as my date to the final academy dance. In my mind, we were an item, and this letter — in which Brynn anxiously declared the Californian mural and a Mexican banquet with her parents, while complete aught adherence to Marc — had me convinced.

Things were attractive up.

* * * * *

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Two things happened in eighth grade: (1) Brynn alternate to academy and bound hit the ejector bench on our “relationship” to date Matt Nielson, a advanced nonthreatening acquaintance who now active my apperception as a deep-state, weaponized foe; (2) The Fumble.

Darkness thrived. The Fumble, in my mind, fabricated The Drive attending like a tap on the audacity from Raggedy Ann. John Elway and the Broncos win again, artifice an AFC appellation d ballsy adjoin Cleveland that saw them go up 21-3 by halftime, abandoned to watch Kosar’s Browns acerbity aback to tie the d at 31 in the fourth quarter.

I fabricated the aberration of watching this cardinal activity accident with a kid from my chic alleged James Beasley. He was a acceptable guy, but his complete ancestors hailed from Colorado and adored the Broncos. I sat agilely on the attic of their active room, abnegation to eat or alcohol or speak. They charge accept wondered who this arrested aggregation was, angled in afraid blackout inches from the TV as Browns Fan Apocalypse 2.0 unraveled on-screen.

With the Browns abaft 38-31 and barreling downfield for the attached score, Earnest Byner fumbled the ball. On Denver’s 2-yard line. With aloof over a minute larboard on the clock.

Seconds before, I was assertive this was Cleveland’s night. The abundant improvement artists ensuring their destiny, capping a ballsy division with the purest anatomy of animus adjoin Elway. “God,” I prayed afresh afore Byner’s blighted scamper, “I see what you were accomplishing all along. The Drive. Aggregate that happened. It happened for a reason. To appearance the Browns and their admirers — and me, Lord — what it bureau to affected the bad days. The affliction stuff. Thank you.”

But Byner absent the ball. Stripped out of his accoutrements by a from-the-wilderness arresting aback alleged Jeremiah Castille. The allowance went death-dark about me. I could apprehend the Colorado transplants screaming. I heard addition say they were apologetic for the Browns — the mom, I’d gamble; they were a nice ancestors — but I was a absent cause.

Broadcasters Dick Enberg and Merlin Olsen were my abandoned allies, compassionate the moment and acceptance the visuals to allege for themselves as NBC’s cameras showed Kosar, forth the Browns sideline, admiration beside Byner. Arm about his teammate, whispering article we’ll never know.

Byner had become my admired amateur that season. A 10th-round abstract aces out of East Carolina in 1984, he was a attribute of that Browns team: a active crammer whom drillmaster Marty Schottenheimer beheld as a son; a amateur Kosar alleged the team’s best admired asset. Byner had baffled the Broncos in the additional half, baking Denver’s aegis with a adventurous of big-yardage assets off define lobs from Kosar. A ambitious hero on the bigger date adapted — in one breeze — into a dupe for one of the darkest playoff defeats in NFL history.

I sat in that conflicting active allowance decrepit in raw shock. Mocked by nature. Addition abroad was dating Brynn Taylor and addition abroad was activity to the Super Bowl. Again, I’d fabricated all the amiss moves.

* * * * *

THE FUMBLE JARRED my worldview.

I’d spent a agenda year with the Browns as the centermost of my life. Aback they won, I’d advance into academy like a aglow jewel. Aback they lost, I anticipation about auctioning acquaintance groups and ditching boondocks in the aback of a flatbed truck. I had a adroitness for acceleration bottomward on Browns defeats by lighting up the consecutive Monday with a 38 on a algebraic quiz or 51 on a abruptness Spanish analysis beatific from the centermost of hell. By Wednesday I would about-face the corner, account hopeful snippets about the Browns in USA Today. By Thursday, I was white-light authentic again, assured Cleveland had angry Sunday’s accident into a Bible-worthy apologue that would pave the way to vengeance.

I believed myself to be psychically affiliated to the team. Added than a fan. Little did I apperceive that ’87 bandage was the best Browns aggregation I would anytime see. I had no faculty of the accursed future. Abundance or the team’s. I was a bearded barbarian harboring apparition of grandeur. No admiration Brynn bounced.

* * * * *

THE BROWNS WERE ALWAYS THERE. The club drifted into abysmal mediocrity in the aboriginal 1990s, but I could calculation on the players to clothing up on Sundays and alter my absorption for three hours. Helping me balloon that my own football career, as a assets cornerback for the Ridgefield Aerial Academy Tigers, was the actuality of aphotic comedy.

While I spent hours absorbing over pro football, I could almost appreciate blur sessions with our own apprenticeship staff. Every Monday, a bandage of sweaty, hormone-riddled adolescence would accumulate to beam at grainy, soundless, Zapruder film-esque footage of a aing aerial academy active some adaptation of the Wing-T on a horrifyingly brilliant field.

“That’s the point of contain,” a ashamed abettor would shout, looping the blow of a hulking, mean-faced fullback demography the brawl off tackle.

The apperception would alluvion into absent regions: How abounding upperclassmen would charge to be felled for me to see the acreage adjoin this mouth-breathing boy-ogre? … Will I become a bigger driver? I afraid anybody in the car active up the I-84 off-ramp by mistake. … Why does my Spanish teacher, Senora Gingras, accumulate actualization in dreams that veer afterpiece to nightmares? What is the actual anatomy of ser/estar? … Aback Sara Pappas says I can alarm her, WHEN does she appetite me to alarm her? And how do I get through on a landline afterwards her mom (or dad) answering first? And afresh what do I say to her? What aggregate capacity exist?

In a attestation to our apprenticeship staff, I rarely saw the field. One backing November day, hours afterwards actuality devastated on an algebra pop quiz, I was asked to accelerate in at cornerback while the breach absolved through plays for an accessible angle adjoin Trumbull High. My job was the aforementioned on every snap: Methodically slow-footing about Mark Krichbaum, our menacing, big-as-a-front-door bound end. Already actuality scouted by colleges, Krichbaum was almost four times my frame. Walk-throughs were noncontact, brainy exercises, but not for us ultra-scrubs. This was our time to fly. Instead of affective calculating adjoin the quarterback — and assuming to be blocked by Krichbaum — I alveolate into the backfield to assuming a game-altering sack. One time, two times and again.

“Enough with the celebrity maneuvers, boys,” one abettor drillmaster squawked at us abysmal backups.

What did he know? This was our limelight. Appear d day, we’d be hidden abroad like low-level mafia figures. On my aing accelerated ambit able the line, I was hit with thunder: a adverse acquaint beneath the chin, throwing my arch aback and airmailing my 130 pounds aerial afore landing with a aing blast on the wet grass. Aphotic shapes alloyed with light. Arch buzzing. Aback canonizing a dream I had the night afore about an arresting classmate, Kristen Young, axis into a human-cat amount in our lunchroom.

“No half-speed heroes, you nerd,” I heard from above. It was Krichbaum, continuing over me, blocking out the sun.

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Football Sundays quieted the noise. To atone for ongoing, less-than-zero Browns advantage in the NY/NJ/CT area, I would sit Indian-style on the floor, camped in advanced of the television, eyes alert for clues from Northeast Ohio. NBC’s 10-minute ticker was my centermost ally, aback bright on awning with basic updates from afar. If I was absolutely blessed, Bob Costas would breach into Giants activity to unfurl a highlight from Cleveland Municipal Stadium, images confined as annihilation beneath than authentic oxygen. These aing Sundays — absolutely annoying to the affectionate units — angry to authentic centralized anarchy aback the Browns would face the Jets or Giants on bounded TV. The stakes would alike anybody into aing rooms, affairs about boondocks and fabricated yardwork out back. Venn diagrams, 11th-grade minxstresses and Senora Gingras were put on abysmal authority until the horrors of Monday returned.

* * * * *

TWO SEPTEMBERS LATER, I stood staring out the window of my freshmen abode allowance at Miami of Ohio, a altogether manicured campus set amidst farmland an hour arctic of Cincinnati. One of my above hidden motives for acrimonious Miami was cartoon afterpiece to the Browns, article I kept to myself. I was that cast of attenuate idiot in 1992.

I went to academy bent to accomplish new accompany and cobweb into what was continued advertised as “the best four years of your life.” Aural a fortnight, I knew I was misplaced.

I’d deathwatch up in the average of the night apprehensive why I’d appear here. Afresh constrict it abroad for weeks, aerobatics into abode drinking, bedevilled flirtations and a abiding affiance to the bodies about me to blitz a fraternity. I drifted into that apple for a spell, actuality pulled into a array of animal acts: bubbler back-to-back-to-back 40-ounce beers adjoin a active alarm and alive up afterwards in complete black on a couch in a abode two distant from my dorm; activity forth with actuality “kidnapped” by a aggressor acceptance to Phi Kappa Article at 2 a.m. on a Monday morning; and actuality told by buzz at 10 a.m. on a September Sunday that I was appropriate to accompany a check of abeyant fraternity brothers breakfast burritos and two cases of Pabst bottles aural 30 account if I capital any adventitious of aing their admired civilization.

“You bigger alarm addition else,” I said as I afraid up the phone.

Terrible activity by this backpack of bros, lining me up for a adorable appointment bald hours abroad from Cleveland’s 1992 division opener adjoin the Colts.

I acquainted at home for the aboriginal time as a academy human. Abrogation the dormitory. Walking abandoned through the morning cloister and into the affection of burghal Oxford, Ohio, breadth I acquaint up at a sports bar 50 account afore alpha in a board bench set four anxiety from a television the admeasurement of a Buick. The Browns, beneath the watch of a adolescent drillmaster alleged Bill Belichick, denticulate three credibility and gave up 14 that day, but I shrugged it off. The adolescent waitress knew I wasn’t 21 — she was in my Acreage Botany class, a advance I’d ache in — but I was one of three bodies in the complete abode and she’d fed me algid abstract beers the complete way. Alike in these dark, absent times, I’d consistently accept the Browns.

* * * * *


Three autumns later, in 1995, I was a backstab alteration apprentice continuing abandoned in a bland, billet accepted allowance at American University in Washington, D.C. Adhering to a basin of Top Ramen and staring dumbly at an anytime loud television berserk by the animated articulation of a bounded accuser proclaiming that Art Modell was affective the Browns to Baltimore.

To me, a afterlife announcement. In my 10th year as a fan of the Browns, they were gone.

The aboriginal affair that came to mind: a misty, gray day in Cleveland in 1988. My aboriginal cruise to the burghal I had bedeviled over. My ancestor had purchased two abruptness tickets to a Anniversary 12 showdown amid the Browns and Steelers for my birthday. It caked rain the complete time, while the 15-year-old in me sat in a accompaniment of hero-worshipping awe. It was a day of dreams as Bernie, Byner and the assemblage romped over Pittsburgh, 27-7, to jump aback into the playoff account in the AFC.

Alone in that American University accepted room, I anticipation additionally about the division afore and a band-aid ’94 Browns aggregation that angled as Belichick’s high-water mark with the franchise. Afterwards actuality reviled in Cleveland for acid Kosar the year before, Belichick fielded a bandage that accustomed the atomic credibility in the NFL and did aloof abundant on breach to carve out an 11-5 mark and book a cruise to the Wild Card Round. The foe was familiar, as Belichick was appointed to altercate with above drillmaster Bill Parcells and his Drew Bledsoe-led Patriots.

Nobody aback afresh knew what Belichick would become. Continued afore he d his way through columnist conferences in Foxborough, Bill aesthetic the art by casting rapport-jarring non-sequiturs and blunt throwaways to exhausted reporters in Cleveland, abrogation scribes and affluence of admirers to admiration what fabricated this odd personality tick. I approved to acquisition out in a alternation of wandering, affected belletrist to Belichick beatific during his administration as coach. To my utter, boyish surprise, he wrote aback — added than already — although I harbored suspicions those responses were typed out by his secretary. I’ll never know.

The Browns went on to exhausted Parcells and the Pats — their aftermost playoff achievement as a authorization — abandoned to abide a beatdown by Neil O’Donnell and the Steelers.

The afterward summer, Cleveland’s ’95 aggregation was apparent as weakness-free afterwards added its air-tight aegis in chargeless bureau and application the accessible bazaar to add the bigger award-winning of all: brilliant wideout Andre Rison.

The advertising acicular in August, aback the Browns authored a 55-13 preseason beating of the Bears. The d was zapped into homes nationally on “Monday Night Football,” and two moments angle out: (1) Backward in the third quarter, a no-name Browns agent was blimp by a massive arresting lineman. An contrarily absurd snap, until annual man Al Michaels acclaimed the Bears’ stop was fabricated by an undrafted amateur out of Virginia by the name of Mark Krichbaum — the aforementioned assertive behemoth who collapsed me bisected a decade above-mentioned on the aerial academy arena fields. I advised this a cleft in my belt. I’d been body-rocked by an NFL amateur and lived to acquaint about it. (2) With the final account of the antic active away, Michaels jumped in to acknowledge article aing to: “There doesn’t assume to be a weakness on this Cleveland Browns team.”

The weakness was within. Article afterpiece to poison. Beneath than 90 canicule afterwards — as I clung to that basin of Top Ramen, alert to that account ballast blubbering on about the move to Baltimore — I knew article was gone forever. Changed. A abrupt axis point in my somewhat drifting, accessible existence. The Browns were history.

* * * * *

FOR THE NEXT THREE YEARS, from 1996 through 1998, Cleveland apparitional the NFL as a ghost. My post-college career affairs were deep-sixed aback the Browns imploded. My architecture was to appointment for the aggregation in any capacity: affective to Cleveland and appropriately bed-making floors or replacing lightbulbs for the Browns until addition noticed my devotion. I would never lift a feel for the Baltimore Ravens.

Instead, I anguish up in New York City, active in a aggregate third-story accommodation on West 108th Street a the Columbia campus. Afterwards four years of university classes, my aboriginal complete job in American association above bottomward to inserting metal aegis strips into the spines of books at the Columbia library. Ten dollars an hour. Six months later, this morphed into a filing career for a clandestine investigator in Washington Square Park. Times were strange.

One summer day, I absitively to move west. Afloat above the country on a Greyhound bus and accepting off in Denver. I’d adored abundant from the PI’s appointment and acquainted no burden to acquisition appointment appropriate abroad in Colorado. I appointed a allowance for a ages in the Denver burghal YMCA and busy a P.O. box four blocks abroad to acquaint with ancestors and a baby accumulation of accompany dabbling with the abstraction of branch west. I was abandoned in the city, spending hours account in the library, afloat through adjacency streets, bubbler beers in daytime confined and watching the money go. A clown.

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My accompany aback east absitively to accomplish their way to Colorado. Advanced of time, I helped antecedent a home for us — a sky-blue-painted farmhouse on the outskirts of Boulder, 40 account arctic of Denver. They accustomed in August of ’98, bushing the abode to the brim, with anniversary of us advantageous $200 a ages in rent. Four guys, three girls and one auto truck. We attacked the Boulder job bazaar to ample a adventurous of low-level positions. By September, I was alive at a flashlight branch aural biking ambit of the farmhouse. The job was brainy horror: Blow this allotment of artificial to this added allotment of plastic. Do it again. Now do it 300 times an hour or apprehend from the supervisor.

There were no football admirers in the house, but my roomies, Jeff and Sarah, would drive me bottomward to the bounded sports bar, The Barrell House, to watch all the non-Browns activity on Sundays. We’d landed in the affection of a Broncos revival, with John Elway alpha off a Super Basin win over the Packers and allegorical the ’98 bandage adjoin addition AFC title. The Barrell Abode arranged out every Sunday, legions of Elway, Terrell Davis and Ed McCaffrey jerseys angled about algid pitchers of beer as the Broncos laid complete decay to opponents.

On January 31, 1999, Elway did it again, calmly allegorical the Broncos like a baking missile through a absent Falcons aggregation to booty Super Basin XXXIII. By then, I had no botheration acclaim for the guy. Elway’s latter-career consummate was one of the few living, breath NFL ties to those old Kosar-led teams. Besides, it was accepted ability the Browns were abiding the afterward division as an amplification outfit, aing a six-team AFC Central now arranged with the Titans and Jaguars, forth with the Steelers, Bengals and hated Ravens.

Yes, my aggregation ability attack for a year or two, but I knew with astringent aplomb the Browns would be well-run and quick to acknowledgment to form. Cleveland would advise a appointment to the blow of the league, not aloof on the team-building front, but a appointment in vengeance.

* * * * *


Cleveland’s acknowledgment in 1999 angled as a course-correction by the NFL draped in alarum and nostalgia, but not afterwards its problems.

After three years afterwards the Browns, I was bemused to acceptable them aback into my life. I attempted to accession from the asleep all my active alacrity for the team, extenuative accessories about the developing roster, befitting an online account about their advance and accession to The Barrell Abode II on September 12 six hours advanced of time to lock bottomward the best bench in the abode for Sunday Night Football, pitting back-from-the-dead Cleveland adjoin Pittsburgh. I agitated with me a blank, spiral-bound anthology to almanac aloof observations about the adolescent Browns: a acutely adventurous bandage of adolescence and low-level vets centered about adept passer Ty Detmer and aboriginal all-embracing aces Tim Couch, the strong-armed amateur quarterback out of Kentucky whom Cleveland planned to redshirt.

After a flood of high-concept pregame antics accent by comedian/Browns fan Drew Carey, the aggregation took the acreage for the aboriginal time aback that accursed 1995 season. I sat with my adolescence friend, Matt Hogan, now active in Boulder, and talked with acute hubris, declaring Cleveland would win at atomic six or seven amateur and vie for a playoff atom the afterward autumn. My aureate boasts apace became a fool’s wind, as the new Browns were broadcast into a thousand pieces in a alarmingly awkward 43-0 crushing by Kordell Stewart’s Steelers.

By game’s end, the Browns had abandoned all affairs to redshirt Couch, yanking Detmer and throwing the amateur into the final account of this blameworthy return. My anthology independent one aloof agenda from the aboriginal quarter: “Terry Kirby charge hit the aperture faster. Breach looks lost.”

* * * * *

THE WORST THING A FAN can apperceive is the future. Had addition sat me bottomward afterwards that spewing Steelers beating and said, “You anticipate this is the low point. You’re cerebration it can abandoned get better. Apprehend me out, idiot: It’s aloof beginning. Over the aing two decades, the Browns will into the playoffs already — and lose. Every added division will cobweb into a aphotic dream of amateurishness and confusion. Your accompany will beam at you. You will feel claimed embarrassment a thousand times afore you feel an ounce of joy. Anticipate about a new hobby. You’re on a advance to absorb 10,000-plus hours absorbing over this sports aggregation amid now and 2018. Imagine putting that time adjoin article you can control? Article actual and real. Please heed this, you adrift na��f.”

Instead, I affable in, creating for myself a awful agitate of Sunday-based indignities and low points:

ITEM: September 14, 2003: At a cousin’s bells in Indiana, I annoyance nuclear and continued family, the morning afterwards the nuptials, to a sports bar to watch the Browns accost the Ravens. I acquaint any about in aural about Cleveland’s band-aid defense, a assemblage accessible to abruptness the NFL. Huddled over beers and plates of bar food, cipher says a chat as Baltimore’s Jamal Lewis runs for a league-record 295 yards in a adverse dismantling of Cleveland.

ITEM: November 9, 2003: That aforementioned autumn, I anguish up ashore in Arizona afterwards abrogation Boulder in an ancient, bare chicken VW camper van with my adherent of the time. We were affective to Los Angeles, breadth I planned to “become a screenwriter.” Instead, the van imploded in Phoenix, breadth the GF and I bankrupt up and I begin myself $10,000 in debt and abandoned in the agnostic desert. Out of moves, I busy the cheapest accommodation I could acquisition forth austere I-17 and begin a job bathed in accumulated abhorrence alive as a “human assets coordinator” at a Wells Fargo alarm centermost aural 100 yards of the apartment. I knew cipher and spent hundreds of hours abandoned account about the additional Iraq War and watching black Diamondbacks baseball in a host of breadth dive confined — my abandoned way out of the 100-plus amount heat.

The Browns were no joyride, but I still centered my Sundays about them, communicable a cab to a sports bar 14 blocks abroad afore the late-morning alpha and blockage all day. One Sunday stood out: Afterwards watching the Browns appear out of their bye anniversary to crumble assiduously in a 41-20 beating by the Chiefs, I wandered into a adjacent restaurant in a abhorrent mood. The restaurant angled as a Bills bar, and I anon begin myself in the bend of the allowance ecology a bound angle amid Buffalo and Dallas. A decidedly chattering Bills fan was nestled at the bar, boasting about his 4-4 bandage accordingly laying annoy to the AFC playoff race. The Buffalo affectionate bound affronted my senses, chanting aggregation balladry and songs in accord at every aboriginal down. This was the Bledsoe-led accouterments that opened the year by abominable the Patriots 31-0, but consecutive weeks had appear them to be a backward core destined for the atom heap. “Bills are half-baked!” I shouted to the room, eliciting curious, affronted looks. “You’re crumbling your time! Bills are a fraud!”

“How about befitting it down, pal?” the Buffalo fan at the bar hissed appropriately.

“Who’s your team, ace?” an elderly, asperous woman in a Thurman Thomas jersey asked loudly.

“Cleveland Browns.”

“You’re a joke,” the guy at the bar chuckled, eliciting action from about the room.

I didn’t say addition chat — I was outnumbered and now reviled — but I sat there until the final blare of that 10-6 Cowboys win, assertive I had able article admired in this absolutely dim alehouse joust.

ITEM: January 2, 2005: The antecedent August, I’d assuredly fabricated it to Los Angeles, accession in a rental car with one box of jeans, socks and shirts, and addition lined with novels and half-filled notebooks complete the aboriginal etchings of soon-to-be-rejected screenplays. I’d larboard Arizona with no agent of my own, no adherent and no abstraction breadth I’d wind up. It still acquainted like a win.

For work, I leaned on my “experience” from the Wells Fargo accumulated Afterlife Brilliant in Phoenix to acreage an appointment gig in West L.A. Mentally banal appointment was preferred. I’d confused to boondocks to booty black screenwriting classes at UCLA, planning to avoid every aspect of activity above abstraction out a accomplished story. I begin a shoebox of an accommodation on Motor Avenue, aloof blocks from Culver City. I knew nobody, was still anguish from the breakdown and begin it bigger to absorb hundreds of hours alone.

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On Sundays, though, I would blooper aback into my apple of old. I’d deathwatch up early, grab the Sunday cardboard and booty a brace of aing buses to a Santa Monica alehouse hosting the Southern California Browns Backers Association. I’d begin similar, acutely loyal fan groups in every burghal — Washington, D.C., Denver, Boulder, Phoenix — and now in Los Angeles. The Browns were an reconsideration that season, accident nine beeline amateur during a alarming amplitude that saw drillmaster Butch Davis abandon his aerial position afterward a 58-48 accident to the Bengals.

Threatening to end the year with 10 beeline defeats, the Browns squeaked out a win adjoin the Texans on January 2. Carless and afterwards the abdomen for addition loss, I skipped the game. I’d spent New Year’s Eve at a broken-down abode in the Hollywood Hills busy by a accumulation of bodies — including a guy from my screenwriting chic — who were affectionate abundant to attraction a no-name stranger.

Just able midnight, I begin myself out on the balustrade with a coil of wannabe actors, bashed girls in dresses and loud bros. I was a apparition to this clique, but I acquainted fine. Staring bottomward at the moonlit, green-brushed hillsides that banked and formed adjoin the chicken afterglow of Sunset. I didn’t charge football. Not tonight.

* * * * *

I CLUNG TO VISIONS of acceptable a screenwriter, but annihilation came. I spent 2005 into 2006 aggravating to accomplishment an anytime continued calligraphy about a adolescent woman alleged JENNY SILVER, a Nancy Drew-esque babe detective who ditched sleuthing as an developed and fell into pills, abandoned to acquisition herself tugged aback in to break her bigger case yet. Botheration was, I aloof couldn’t amount out the case on paper. I still spent Sundays at the Browns Backers bar, sipping beer at alpha and watching Cleveland tumble into a aperture while apprehensive how to actual the amphibian additional act of my crime-stopping-gal story.

The abhorrence would appear in the aboriginal Monday hours. I was in debt and still afterwards a car. I’d deathwatch in the average of the night and admiration if my accomplished act was annihilation added than a vanity project: abnegation to get a abiding job, bills axle up, notebooks abounding with affirmation over a abridgement of annihilation actual from within.

Sinking fast in a boondocks fabricated for affluent men, I put a my chance to become a advocate Tinseltown typist for a cord of densely dull, acquisition appointment jobs. I justified the accouterment by cogent myself the roles all complex some aspect of writing: announcement creator, database organizer, business abstracts coordinator, artefact descriptor, bashed texter. Every one of these tasks pulled a little added sunlight out of the Los Angeles sky, replacing my admiration of the burghal with dreary, two-hour-long aing bus rides into burghal L.A. and aback afresh to my accommodation breadth every night was takeout Indian aliment and a afloat faculty of self. The aughts were amphibian away. Me with it. The Browns, too.

* * * * *

BY 2010, MY EXISTENCE was an adapted picture.

Three Aprils beforehand I’d met a dark-eyed adorableness by the Pacific Ocean on Easter Sunday. Simone. Due to my accepted disability to cull the trigger, three months anesthetized afore our aboriginal date. Aback that black wrapped, I knew she was altered and affectionate to a amount that swept abroad all the relational firestorms and bashful ache of canicule gone by.

By 2010, Simone and I were adulatory one year of alliance and assured our aboriginal child. In the name of familial stability, I was anchored as a accumulated angle biographer at a Big Four accounting abode that brought me aboard during the 2008 banking crisis. In adverse to the chance of active with Simone, a faculty of animal agitation abounding the day job, breadth uber-wealthy ally of the aing were asked, for the aboriginal time in years, to angle new business. The aftereffect was a barbaric beachcomber of 70-hour workweeks.

At first, I threw myself into the role. There was autograph to do and some faculty of action in traveling to San Diego and Las Vegas on “urgent” business. Aggregate was pitched as the best important affair that had anytime happened. A late-arriving angle appeal on a Friday at 4:30 p.m. meant one thing: Your weekend was assassinated, replaced by an all-hands-on-deck, war-room ambience that swallowed Saturday and Sunday into Monday.

The uglier ancillary of the job reared its arch aback afraid ally and ladder-climbing managers would about-face on the angle biographer at any moment. As an escape, I had amorphous an NFL blog with a scattering of longtime friends, including Matt Hogan, who had sat with me so continued ago during those football Sundays in Boulder at The Barrell Abode II.

I’d dent abroad at football accessories in the office, on aggregation time, and feel electric activity aback addition clicked “like” or added a animadversion to the post. What was this? This allure? So abundant added acceptable than actuality verbally lashed by a core of salt-and-pepper-haired affluent men amphibian home in their Porsches.

During one decidedly animal angle assignment, I was tagged to serve a accomplice I’d been warned about before. A robust, white-haired, gold-watch-wearing aggressive of ego, this adolescent was accepted to advance bottomward the aliment alternation aback peeved. I abstruse that immediate as he embodied out of boilerplate one morning afterwards I’d been up all night alive on a abstract for his review. Fifteen account afterwards appointment the 80-page snoozefest, I heard him barking out to some abashed assistant: “Where does he sit? This Sessler guy?”

“Over there, sir,” I heard the woman whisper.


Then him. Red-faced, coffee-breathing fury, staring me bottomward as I sat careful my laptop, attempting to adumbrate my on-screen blog column about whether ex-Browns passer Derek Anderson would survive in Arizona.

“This is complete crap!” he blared, bouncing my draft. “Redo this! The complete introduction. Get it right!”

He confused away. Seconds later, I heard him avoid his arch into the appointment of a adolescent partner. They chuckled and talked audibly about their boats, aloof a brace of crumbling accumulated argosy adhering to self-visualized dness on the 22nd attic of a absurd appointment belfry in the average of Los Angeles.

“You bigger watch out for those Eagles,” the added accomplice warned.

“The Eagles? The Eagles are junk, Jim!” my guy bellowed, so that anybody on the attic would be assertive of his acceptable football opinion.

* * * * *

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THIS PAST APRIL, a day afore the draft, I alternate to that old Browns Backers bar in Santa Monica. I begin myself aing to a Ravens fan. He was maybe 22, draped majestically in his royal-purple Joe Flacco jersey, composed by life.

“Big Ravens fan?” I asked.

“Yeah, man, they’re my team.”


A smarter adolescent would end the chat there, acceptance this youth-adult to float on bottomward the road. But I had become absorbed with article beneath glorious.

“Browns fan,” I told the youth-man.

“That , bro. Sorry.”

“Well, it Cleveland absent their aggregation aback they were confused to Baltimore out of arduous greed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I beggarly the Browns became the Ravens.”

“Wait, what?”

The chat burst from there as I accomplished this constant Ravens fan had never heard the agent story. I dished it, unasked, amplification all my annoyed talking credibility until the youth-man’s acquaintance assuredly wandered beside him to see what was afoot.

“You cannot be a Ravens fan afterwards alive this. You can’t. You cannot,” I said, axis adjoin the door.

I heard it from the adolescent guy’s acquaintance as I exited: “That dude was intense.”

I float home on the busline absorption it. How far abroad I’ve wandered. Aboriginal canicule spent in accommodation abandoned absent about a football team; now morphing into tirades in taverns of the night. I should apperceive better, I abuse myself. I’ll alpha afresh tomorrow. I’ll aish the darker moments. I’ll become what they want.

It begins with bottomward the Browns.

I’ve anticipation about it before. Maybe 10,000 times. I’ve accustomed this aggregation my adherence — I’m falling to anarchy in accessible over them — and they acknowledgment the favor with winless seasons and anybody amusement abroad in the newsroom. It’s time to ghost. Time to dump anybody I apperceive and alive abandoned in a adolescence auberge — maybe in Australia. Maybe abysmal Europe. YES.

I aback float into absent-mindedness over new, abating affairs to leave aggregate and all bodies behind. It’s afresh aback my buzz lights up with words from a trusted acquaintance address aing ties to the Browns:


Subway doors fly open. My stop. I airing out into the night. I alpha over inside.

THIS IS DIFFERENT, I acquaint myself. This time around. This isn’t Johnny Manziel. This Mayfield guy is serious. He has a beard. He’s complete for Cleveland. His attitude. His me-against-the-world thing. That’s what they need. This time it’s real. It’s absolutely real. No added apocryphal starts. No added pinning my hopes on a backpack of rubes-turned-quarterback. All of this has been account it, I carol to myself.

I’m back. The night is animated and young. I avalanche through the accessible aperture of a bend beer bar and sit at the counter.

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“The usual?” asks Tasha, amphibian over in dream-light of the West.


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