Real life, without fail, forces us all to do something that we don’t want to at some point in the day, almost on a daily basis. Those inconvenient obligations could be work, could be family, and could be fairly basic life functions, depending on how lazy one might be. One thing that most, if not all, of us are rarely forced to do is turn on the TV and view something that we don’t enjoy. Yet, I’ve tuned in for NFL playoff games, Baltimore Ravens playoff games every weekend since we turned our calendars to 2013, hoping for the best; I expected and received the worst.
Like cockroaches, they just won’t die. It isn’t the football team itself that bothers me, they’re not the Steelers. It’s the story lines, which I’ve managed to avoid as much as possible. Supposedly, the man coaching Baltimore is kin to the man coaching San Francisco, so that’s a thing, but a thing we could probably tolerate on its own. From the aging linebacker, who has simply become a parody of himself with his own melodramatics to the stories of two bodies he hurried away from in Atlanta a lifetime ago that everyone just wants to forget, I’m not enjoying what I saw on the telly. At the end of the day, all of that stuff matters, but not as much as those Art patches and the building in Canton, where no statue of the name on that patch exists.
In eighth grade, I was an interior lineman for the football team. Meaning, I wasn’t very gifted at throwing, catching, or running with the ball. I was the football equivalent of the baseball Little Leaguer you would hide over in right field. That was fine. I was just happy to be in the game.
Hello once again fellow Browns fans and draft junkies! After missing most of the season as far as Browns articles go I am back to begin the yearly “Feeling a Draft” series and, as usual, we will start with the Senior Bowl.
Another week, another Banner decision (you see what I did there?).
A new regime and a new era in Cleveland Browns football.