I haven’t felt much like writing lately. I skipped last week and don’t really have anything to say this week either. I’m going through one of my episodes where I feel anything I write will be phony because I actually don’t know anything about anything.
I do know one thing. Today is family day and we’re going to watch some football.
Our favorite football team is the Cleveland Browns, and they stink again this year. I blame the owners for not being able to field a competitive team since 1988. I was five years old that January when the Browns lost in the final seconds of the AFC championship game to the Denver Broncos. I had my Browns helmet on. I laid out every offensive and defensive players’ football card in formation on the BarcaLounger. I remember the excitement we felt when it looked like the Browns were on their way to their first Super Bowl. My entire family was gathered around the warm glow of the television. Then Browns’ running-back Earnest Byner fumbled ball on the three yard line sealing the Bronco’s victory. Silence fell over the now frigid living room. This devastating movement, today infamously known as “The Fumble”, was one of my earliest childhood memories.
The time before 1988 when the Browns were good was 1962, I think. Eisenhower was the president. My father was seven, and the color television and the Super Bowl had not yet been invented. Presently, at his advanced age, it appears unlikely my father will live to see a Browns Super Bowl victory. Perhaps even sadder, Jack, Kelly, and I will be at the bar squeezing for the Browns today just like it was 1988. I’m sure they will lose in dramatic fashion, like they did again last week. Jack will see his father first exctied and hopeful during the first forty-five minutes, and later a crushed man yelling and swearing in vain at the television. Jack will cry in fear and at the realization that this is what he has to look forward too.
Anyway, maybe I’ll think of something smart to write next week. Go Browns.