Misery: Generational Sadness
Estimated 6 minute read
Series Introduction
I look out in the distance and for miles all I see is rolling hills and trees. It’s a beautiful midwest day and the leaves are slowly changing. There is a cool breeze coming from the North off the lake. I get into a topless car and start my journey.
For years, I’ve been on this road. It’s one that isn’t for the faint of heart. If you’ve been on one similar to this, you know what it looks like. Desolate, sad, and full of possibilities. You drive down every year like a ritual - but you don’t really know why you keep doing it. You’re like one of those butterflies that go to Mexico every year.
Like old friends, the carcasses of those you’ve met along the way are scattered on each side as you cruise down playing your favorite Michael Stanley Band song.
“There is that guy I met last year at my local ‘backers’ bar. Haven’t seen him in a while. Wonder if he had kids and finally decided to end this horrible cycle”
“Oh man… I remember that guy. He loved Josh Cribbs. Good luck loving him with those colors on. Unfortunately… I’m addicted to the pain.”
“Geez, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the QB infinity jersey guy, but there he is laying face down on the concrete. I can’t believe he actually duct taped ‘Winston’ on it”
From overaged quarterbacks from Oklahoma State and Money Manziel, I’ve seen it all on this highway. At some point though, you just keep driving. Incompetency turns into tragedy… and tragedy is a step away from comedy. I’m a Browns fan and you probably know what that’s like.
I wake up in a cold sweat in my bed. I turn to my wife.
“Bad dream again, love”, she says.
“Season’s about to start”, I responded as she put her hands on my back to console me.
20 out of the current 32 active teams have won Super Bowls. This means that you have a 40% chance (almost a real crappy odds coin flip) of having seen this road at some point in your dreams. Maybe you’re a Raiders or a Commander's fan though. You’re able to buy that merch that says “Super Bowl Champs”, but you’re not even close to old enough to remember the Jim Plunkett or Doug Williams of the world. No, just because you own a jersey from Mitchell & Ness with their names on it doesn't make you old enough. I’m talking about old enough for the parades and watching them hoist the Lombardi Trophy.
Realistically, I’d say it’s closer to 50% of the teams and their fans this year are on this road. Join me in saying. “We’re not going to win it all this year”. Say it in the mirror. Say it on a voice recording on your phone. Do it daily. Relieve yourself of the pain caused by delusion. Sit down, join us. I’ll go first.
Hello, my name is Nico and I’m a Browns fan. It’s tragic, I know. I can’t help it though, it’s in my blood.
When my grandfather came over on a boat from Italy to the port of New York, he went where his family landed. North Olmsted, Ohio. I sometimes wish he would’ve convinced his family to move to Boston. There, he met my grandmother and the rest is history. This chance meeting of the two of them made multiple generations fall in love with Tim Couch, Derek Anderson, Charlie Fyre, Brady Quinn, and Johnny Manziel. If I’m being honest, I blame them for the majority of my football related anger. I mean hell, look at this list. It’s enough to make you drive off the highway I dreamt of.
I have been extremely fortunate to see my share of highs though:
Peyton Hillis on the cover of Madden.
Falling in love with Joshua Cribbs myself back then.
Braylon Edwards being a stud.
Kellen Winslow Jr. balling like his Dad.
They never brought true joy though. I never had a Tom who lifted that trophy on the shore of Lake Eerie or an Elway who could bring one home to Ohio. The best I’ve had was Lebron… and that guy can dunk a ball, but he can’t pass a damn football to save his life.
Why not just stop Nico? Get off the highway. Save yourself.
What should I do? How do you propose I get off? This fandom is like an Eagles’ song… you can get on at mile 0, but you can never leave.
My grandmother’s father was probably barking like a bulldog on Sundays. I must stay the course for my ancestors. It’s what they would’ve wanted. This is generational sadness. This is what you earn from where you were born. Get in the car with your grandmother and your uncles… learn the road… and shut up. Stay the course.
So I’m stuck where half of us are today, and I will say that it’s a perfect Sunday for hope and optimism. I want improvement and I want playoffs, but I’m realistic. I mean, let’s be honest with ourselves here. I’m cheering and praying for a sexual harasser that I know is washed up to be “decent” this season. If he doesn’t succeed, I’ll have to be “eating double u’s”. I’m not even sure if I know what that means. Honestly, I’m going to probably spend this whole season hoping that we don’t waste Myles Garrett’s career like we did our lord and savior Joe Thomas’. No… like our lord and savior Joe Haden.
Are you on this road with me? Do you stand close to no chance of a Lombardi this year? Join me week to week on this new series “Misery” and sulk along. We’ll be diving into the Browns and other teams who truly never had a chance this season. You might want to buckle up, because your team might end up being mentioned here. That’s okay. It’s all okay. Don’t worry, you won’t have to scroll up to find it… I’ll paste it below.
“...learn the road… and shut up. Stay the course.” Join us on Highway-Misery.
Treat this column kind of like “Honey Boo Boo”. You don’t like to watch the trainwreck… but watching one makes you feel so much better knowing your team is going to at-least finish above .500.
P.S. If you have seen this highway at some point in your life and are now online searching for a Mahomes or Lamar Jackson jersey, think of your ancestors as I did. Don’t you dare jerk that steering wheel now. You’ve been in the pain cave for so long, don’t force happiness. Learn to suffer. You’ll need to be really good at… there’s 18 weeks left.
