Sometimes, ideas rattle around in my head - or should I say bang around - until I put fingers to keyboard and write them down. I was really moved by the Super Bowl 47 commercial featuring the legendary Paul Harvey reading a poem about Farmers.
This is my homage to that poem. I mean no disrespect to it's author or to farmers. But being a Cleveland Sports Fan brings it's own challenges and I'm convinced God didn't choose the faint-of-heart for this vocation.
Respectfully Submitted,
Cleveland Kate
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And on the 9th day God looked down on his planned paradise and said, "I need some fanatics.”
So, God made a Cleveland Sports Fan!
He needed somebody to get up before dawn and drive to the Muni Lot and set up a BBQ grill, put out coolers of beer, eat brats and then go to the stadium and stay past midnight at a game where their team will lose in the final seconds. So, God made a Cleveland Sports Fan!
He wanted somebody with strong arms. Strong enough to flip off a Steelers fan, yet gentle enough to hold his children as they cry when they hear that the Browns are moving to Baltimore. Someone to bear witness to Red Right 88, The Drive, The Fumble, and still renew their season tickets. Someone who will never know the Kokinis Story. Someone who can celebrate Draft day while the team picks Tim Couch, Courtney Brown, William Green, Gerard Warren, Chaun Thompson and yet another Quarterback, and still raise these strong arms to cheer on opening day…. Someone who can sit through a blizzard, lose repeatedly to their division rivals, say “We’ll get them next time” ...and mean it. So, God made a Cleveland Sports Fan!
He needed somebody that could handle pain. The pain that comes from being the joke of major league baseball and then rising to greatness, only to lose game 7 of the World Series after Mesa chokes in the 9th. The pain of sitting in the parking lot outside the stadium, smoking a cigar and knowing that you’ll be back again next year…. Only you won’t. So, God made a Cleveland Sports Fan!
He wanted somebody who would be a Witness. Who would welcome a native son, lift him up on a pedestal, make excuses when he chokes in the 4th quarter against Boston, and still love him. Who would wear Cleveland Cavaliers gear with pride, and boast that #23 is The King. Who would spend an hour watching TV to see their favorite player, a true star, one of the greatest to ever play the game, tell the whole world that he is leaving. Who would take that slap in the face and fight back, suffer through countless years of really bad basketball in the hopes that they would be good again. So, God made a Cleveland Sports Fan!
It had to be somebody who'd be unbreakable; who would take the best and the worst that sports can throw at a person; who’s very job could depend on whether or not the sports team in town were winning or losing. He needed a rag-tag group of misfits who would take whatever flavor crap sandwich they were handed and say “Thank you sir, may I have another.” Someone who would cheer and cry, talk smack and bleed orange & brown, wine & gold, red white & blue… and then respond with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life "rooting for dad's teams". Because to let their children root for any other team is unthinkable. So, God made a Cleveland Sports Fan!
And as a reward for all of this hard work, determination, and pain, God would also make them Ohio State Buckeye Fans!