At last. It’s over.
Well thank God that’s over, and by “that” I mean the Browns season. In a two-decade span there have been some horrible football seasons here, but that was one of the worst. The Browns had no chance to win a majority of the games because a) there were very few good players on the roster, b) the coaches had no concrete ideas on how to win, and c) the front office is composed of buffoons. Even today as I kept one eye on the pointless season finale, I saw them down by eight points in the third quarter and concluded this was an insurmountable lead to overcome. There was not a Cleveland Brown on the field that could have scored a touchdown unless someone in the Steeler defensive backfield had a stroke mid-play. I suppose Duke Johnson is generally regarded as the Browns biggest “playmaker”. I think of him as a “poor man’s Danny Woodhead” or “a less exciting Jamel White”. This would indicate your team is not exactly stacked with offensive threats. This would also suggest one reason as to why your team is 3-13.
At some point later today Mike Pettine and Ray Farmer will discover their keys to the facility don’t work any longer. Before midnight both of those guys will go from “Big NFL swinging dick” to “shaved head unemployed D-bag” in an instant. It’s going to be a transition for those guys. As about 20-30% of the NE Ohio male population looks like Mike Pettine, he might very well hide in plain sight eating chicken wings at sports bars and talking shit about the next Browns GM hire like the rest of us. If you see a shaved head guy with a goatee really worked up about whatever schmoe the Browns hire, give him a good looking over and see if he’s wearing some sort of “orangier” complimentary Browns gear. If he’s wearing wraparound glasses and a disconnected headset, it’s definitely Pettine. Farmer will be the guy dressed too formally for every situation as if that will suggest he is very professional and knows what he is doing. Be careful. He doesn’t. I wouldn’t let him choose the toppings on a pizza much less a draft choice. He looks like a guy that might wear too much cologne too. I wouldn’t shake his hand unless you want to smell like Drakkar.
The real story is once again John Football. God, I love this fucking kid. Let’s make sure we have this right… John loses a game last Sunday in which he was 12-34 passing but ran for more yards than any Browns QB since Mike “the Snake” Pagel. He is scheduled to start against Pittsburgh, who really needs this game and love giving Browns players cheap shots. So Wednesday he rolls into the Browns facility and tells them he has concussion symptoms, which basically means he took the week off. Normally people that have concussions need to stay in dark quiet rooms. John Football (allegedly) went to Vegas Saturday night and partied. I was trying to come up with places that are less conducive to someone recovering from a concussion than Vegas and could only come up with lead guitar player for Iron Maiden, fireworks technician, and infantry during the Normandy Beach invasion.
The best part is when John learns that somehow The Public has learned he is in Vegas (which will tend to happen when you and your Douche Posse are rolling around in casinos on The Strip) he posts an Instagram picture of him laying with his puppy in his PJs. I think a unicorn is prancing by in the distance. It’s like a really bad script from the TV show “Entourage”. Who came up with that plan for him to cover himself? Turtle? Can you imagine being John Football’s agent? “Hey Johnny! What’s up Babe? What’s that? OK.. You’re where? And a writer from USA Today spotted you? At the tables? Johnny… Johnny… Why did you think no one would notice you? A hat? You wore a hat? OK… OK… Look Johnny, this isn’t good. This isn’t good at all… Get back to your fucking room. I’m sending someone for you. Let’s fly your ass back here and pretend this never happened. Don’t answer your phone. Don’t leave the room. Don’t do ANYTHING!”. Whatever that agent gets paid, it’s not enough.
At this point, you have to cut this kid loose, right? It’s not as if he is Tom Brady Incarnate. He’s a crappy little QB that can maybe become a career backup in the unlikely event that he can keep his shit together. There is no way that the #1 pick in this upcoming draft isn’t at least as good as Manziel and 100% less headache. Who needs to deal with his bullshit? John Football has maybe the worst judgement of anyone in the public eye. Rob Kardashian and Chris Brown laugh at him. It’s unreal. John Football is looking at his team getting one of the top two picks in the draft and instead of going to the game and being engaged, he figures “I’m done for the season tomorrow, but I’m going to Vegas tonight to party!”. Fuck yes! There is no way to make this shit up. John Football appears to take being an NFL QB about as seriously as I took my job as a dishwasher at Casa Lupita in college. I had that same sort of disconnect. Take note. He gets more chicks than I did, but I got a shitload of free nachos.
So here we are again. Ready for a New Era of Cleveland Browns Football. New GM. New Coach. New QB. New Plan. Press conferences where the new people refer to “the proud tradition of this organization” and “knowing how badly the city wants to win” and talking about “the most passionate fans in all of football”. Blah blah blah. We all know what’s coming. Same results with new names. Bring it on.
Be sure to check out more insensitive stuff written by Greg Miller at http://nursethehate.blogspot.com/
Also check out Greg’s great country punkabilly band, The Whiskey Daredevils.
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