Being a Cleveland Browns fan is an integral part of being from Cleveland, and my dad helped inspire me to become a fan of the hometown franchise.
The punchlines have been laid out countless times. Being a fan of the Cleveland Browns is a curse. A curse that has no way out.
But these “funny” punchlines often come from those who aren’t from Cleveland. Those who don’t understand what the Browns mean to those from Northeast Ohio.
In honor of Father’s Day, and my own dad, I wanted to share just how integral my dad was to me being a fan of the Cleveland Browns.
My dad was born in 1964, just months before the Cleveland Browns won their last championship. Is he the curse? I’ll leave that up to debate.
Anyway, he has been a fan of the Browns his entire life, being there for the heartbreak of the 1980s followed by what was to come beyond that. He has never been one to paint up or yell at the television during the draft, but he is still there to talk about the Browns when I project my optimism upon the family.
I am from the new generation of Browns fans, among those who were too young to remember the team moving to Baltimore. For me, the Browns have always been bad and a national punchline. But my dad never put down my interest in the team. In fact, he supported it.
There has only been one time in my life when I have cried upon receiving a gift. This came on July 29, 2010, when I was handed a gift for my birthday. I unwrapped the paper and opened a box containing Brown season tickets. I wept like the team had just won the Super Bowl.
We had those seats for two years, before I went off to college, and while my dad didn’t go…
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