It's been forever since my last posting. There are many reasons for this, mainly the fact that I have a job and it actually keeps me busy. (I count my blessings each day I walk into the office and little brown boxes packed with my co-workers belongings are not piled up as if we were having a company-wide yard sale.) So why did I decide today was as good as any other day to make new post? Well, I just returned from a long overdue pilgrimage to Cleveland. A trip in which I shared with my Cleveland-born, Atlanta raised children the joys (and pains) of being a Browns fan - or for that matter a Cleveland fan in general.
With the disappointment of the Cavaliers dream season, and the doom and gloom of an Indians team 2 years separated from a potential Word Series berth - I decided to take my kids to bask in the glory of what is Browns football. While our beloved Brownies have been nothing short of a major disappointment, I am still bewildered at how much I love them and how hard I grasp onto the the past 30 years - mainly the 80's and very early 90's. It was time to finally show my daughter (8) and my son (6) what being a Browns fan was all about. (that is other than Daddy screaming and biting his tongue with every 3-and-out on any given fall Sunday…)
My wife and I were driving from the Eastside where we had been spending the July 4th weekend with her family, over to the Westside to spend the day with my mother and my side of the family. On our way I decided to point out to my son that Browns Stadium was coming up on the right, and was that odd looking building that looked like a spaceship. He's a big Transformers fan, so he related quickly and with a little twinkle in his eye. I decided it was time - time for him and my daughter to actually see the stadium up close, so I quickly cutoff the driver next to me to exit Dead Man's Curve and hit Route 2 towards our hollowed ground.
As we pulled up to the Stadium my wife noticed that the team store was open so we decided to stop the "Look Kids! Big Ben!" tour of Cleveland and actually get out and into the Stadium. Well, at least the part we could access this day. The kids, my wife and I were so exited that we practically forgot that our dog Roxy was in the car. Which came as a shock, because my wife is only a Browns fan because she has to be. She was one of the unfortunate (or fortunate?) ones that didn't grow up in a family of fanatics like I did. We've been married for almost 11 years, and only now is she starting to show interest. Which may be for the best, all things considered. Anyhow, we practically raced each other to the store's entrance and as we opened the doors the flood of Orange and Brown was a sensory overload. I had not seen so much orange and brown since I last opened a bag of Reese's Pieces! We walked to the far end of the store and towards the windowed entrance doors that open into the Stadium. I lifted each of my kids as high as I could so they could steal a glimpse of the field below us. "Is that really where the Browns play on TV Daddy?" My daughter asked. "Yep" is all I could reply as I tried to contain my excitement. (After all, I haven't been home in two years and it's been three since my last Browns home game)
We began to sift through all of the T-shirts, the hats, the jerseys, the tchotchkes and anything that they could put a Browns name or logo on. My wife was having difficulty choosing which "girly" Browns shirt to purchase, as was my daughter. My wife finally choose a nice looking throwback, handed it to me and told me she couldn't leave Roxy by herself. So she headed back to the car as the three of us perused the endless waves of orange.
My daughter settled on a "I Love Browns Football" tee, that is until she saw what my son was getting. I was looking through all of the kids-sized jerseys for him - Quinn, Edwards, Thomas, Jackson, Lewis, Robiskie, etc... then I ran into a Jurevicius one in the clearance rack for half price in my his size and said what the hell - I'll save a few bucks and he'll never know the difference. Plus it didn't hurt that Joe J. was a hometown kid that I actually played against in high school and my wife's family knows his family - so that's the jersey I coerced my son to choose. He was ecstatic! "Cool! Now I have a jersey just like yours Daddy! But yours has a number 2, mine's got an 84! Awesome!" (yes I still have my old Tim Couch jersey - mainly because I have lived in Atlanta and I haven't had the chance to upgrade.)
That's when my daughter noticed that my son was getting a jersey just like Daddy's... and that's when I saw that I am raising my kids to be true Browns fans. She busted out the puppy dawg eyes and looked at me as if the world was about to end. "Daddy - why can't I get a real Browns jersey? I want to look like you and my brother when games are on..." Then it hit me - hard. I had unintentionally ignored that my daughter was growing to be just as big a Browns fan as her brother was. I really should not have done this, especially seeing that I have 7 sisters, three of which are diehards like myself and a stepmother who bleeds orange. I mean how could I say no? I couldn't… and so I told her to pick out what ever jersey she wished for. (I'm a softy - so what?) She picked out a great looking #10 jersey in the home brown. My daughter - one of Brady's Ladies. On this occasion I could not have been prouder.
So there we were at the cash register, our tow in hand. Shirts, foam dawg paw, some tchotckes and those two brand new jerseys - the first for these new Browns fans. I swear I choked back a tear as I realized that I have succeeded in passing on the tradition and the legacy.
As we returned to the parked car in the shadow of Browns Stadium on Al Lerner Parkway, my son happily waved his foam dawg paw and barked as I started a chorus of "Here we go Brownies!" My wife was standing outside with Roxy prancing around near one of the trees. As we settled into the car, I got that "what did you do now?" look from my better half. I told the kids to tell Mommy what they got. My son was all about his foam paw and waved it in a clawing motion. That's when my daughter removed her team's colors from the bag and donned her new prized possession. My wife just rolled her eyes as if to say - I can't believe you did that! (and then she actually said it…) The money spent was not the issue as much as I think it was that she was now the only one without a jersey.
My daughter wore her Quinn jersey for the remainder of the day, and my son barked more times than I can count. And there I was - the proud Dad who removed his family from the town in which they were born and me and my wife were raised. My fervor for my team and my city has been passed down - intentionally or otherwise and I will now be able to share all of my memories, good and bad, with them as my father did with me.
Oh and no worries honey, Browns season is just around the corner, as are your birthday and Christmas. So if you really want that jersey… :)
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