Breakups are hard… Most of us will agree with that. I mean, you’d have to be some sort of robot devoid of human emotion to not feel SOMETHING, right? That’s exactly the case with my recent decision to discontinue my relationship with the Cleveland Browns at the beginning of the season. I’ve only given in and watched two games all season, and my life is noticeably less tragic as a result. All I needed after those two lapses in judgment was a friend to reassure me that I am, in fact, better off without them… And a couple shots of Tequila, using limes and the salt of my tears to choke them down.
Here’s the thing, It’s nearly impossible to avoid contact with an ex of this magnitude entirely. You’re constantly seeing them pop up on social media in the form of pathetic memes, Bleacher Report accounts of every god-damn failure and sad Browns fans moments set to an even sadder Adele soundtrack. How do you escape that? When I see it, I can’t help but feel a little tug at my heartstrings. It’s comparable to running into a pathetic ex at CVS while he’s shopping for toilet paper, wearing sweatpants and a mustard stained Guns N Roses tee. You can’t help but feel sorry for the poor bastard. You know he’s clearly not better off without you and still hanging on to hope for that GNR reunion tour. It’s fucking sad. The Browns are my pathetic, sweatpants wearing, slob of an ex-boyfriend. It’s entirely possible that they’ll one day get their shit together, but right now I’m not willing to put my life on hold until they figure it out.
I still have some unresolved feelings and question my choice at times, but some days are easier than others. Let’s use today as an example, shall we? Why, what happened today, you ask? Today, my hometown heroes and our 3rd string QB were absolutely murdered by “division rivals”, the Cincinnati Bengals by a score of 37-3. I realized just how bad things had gotten when it was no longer fun for my brother, who’s an avid Bengals fan to shit talk me before or after a Cleveland/Cincinnati matchup. At this point, that would just qualify as bullying. It is not even worth his time to taunt me. THAT’S how sad things have become. The Browns are the fat kid on the playground of the AFC North.
Some fans have taken exception and tried to protest the team’s unprecedented shittiness by wearing brown bags on their heads while at the games, kind of like the Unknown Comic from the gong show, which is wildly appropriate when you think about it. However, the glaring issue with this plan, aside from attempting to drink a $9.00 draft beer with a bag on your head… You’re STILL AT THE GAME. I envision a bunch of millionaires, sitting around lighting Cuban cigars with hundred dollar bills while laughing maniacally because they still got you there. You know what would be powerful? Stop fucking going to games. Feel free to continue wearing a brown bag on your head, if you’re so inclined, but do it while you’re NOT drinking $9.00 beers and NOT paying $30 to park. “Brown bag the Browns” at the zoo, at the movies, from your God-damned couch. That’s how you send a message. Have you ever gone out to dinner and had a terrible meal? Did you go back to that same restaurant the following week expecting a different result? “Hey, last time you guys really fucked up, but here’s some more of my money.” My guess is no. You probably left a bad Yelp review and moved on with your life. Stop accepting an Olive Garden quality organization at fine dining prices.
Since the breakup, my Sundays have been pretty amazing. I hardly ever cry anymore and I feel stronger every week I stay away. Don’t get me wrong, I still drive by the stadium on occasion to make sure they’re still there (that’s not a guarantee, as history has shown us) and gently stalk them on Facebook occasionally. When it’s all said and done, I’m not going to be sucked back in until they make some serious changes. On a side note, I’m free next Sunday.
Photo Credit- Jen Steer