By Ryan Parker
Pound this, dawgs
Ah, my favorite time of year is finally here. Professional football has begun! We can finally put the unpleasantness I call baseball behind us. The true American pastime is back for another year. Week in and week out for the next four months, thousands of fans across the nation will choke down chicken wings as they watch giants of men tackle each other.
Some of these fans will suffer a lengthy and pain-filled season as their team continues its ineptitude and fails to remedy its shortcomings from the previous season. I know, I’ve suffered for a decade. Yeah, that’s right, I’m a Bengals fan. It’s difficult to admit at times, but I bleed orange and black through and through. This is the year they finally return to playoff glory. Or not. But I really hope this is the year.
I don’t think I could bear to see the Browns version 2.0 improve to the point where they are better than their in-state rivals. The new Browns are only entering their fourth season since their bastard of an owner packed them up and moved them to Baltimore. And I’m glad he did. I’m glad the city of Cleveland cries everyday because their team won a Super Bowl in Baltimore as the nefarious Ravens.
Anyway, back to the Browns. I HATE THE BROWNS! I hate their fans. I hate the “Dawg Pound.” I do so hate the city of Cleveland and anything that comes of it. What a dirty place too. Last time I was in Cleveland, I thought I had died and gone to hell. What a shit-hole. And the people, my god, the people. There are no football fans more despicable than Browns fans.
I’ve heard several accounts of stories similar to the following: opposing fan walks into Browns Stadium (the old one). Fan is greeted by having his hat stolen, placed on a stick, covered in gasoline, and burned. Fan proceeds to report to security. Security replies, “It’s Cleveland.” Wonderful. Fan proceeds to use restroom facilities. There are none. They have port-o-lets at good ole’ Browns Stadium. Fan enters port-o-let. Port-o-let tipped over by angry mob. Visitor exits port-o-let covered in human excrement. Does anyone see something wrong with this?
Last year may have been the crust on the port-o-let seat lid, err… icing on the cake for those of you outside Cleveland. The freaking fans lost a game! Displeased with a call, they threw beer bottles at the officials. Beer sales promptly stopped, and then things got interesting. Since Browns fans are big dorks, they all bring radios to the game they attend so they can listen to some jackass laud the team the whole time they’re watching the game live. Well, batteries are pretty useful when you need something to throw at the zebras.
So the fans throw their batteries at the referees. Then, not to be outdone, the refs call the game and declare the opposing team victorious. I loved it! Only a city filled with as much poop as Cleveland could lose a game because of their fans. And get this: they have to drink from plastic beer bottles this season. Once and for all, it proves that if you act like a baby and crap your pants all the time, you’ll be treated like a baby and be forced to drink from a sippy cup.
At any rate, the first Battle of Ohio is only about a week and half away. I’m looking forward to the game and the football season, but I won’t be attending the game, as it is in Turdville. I wouldn’t want to have my jersey ripped from my body as they boil me in a giant vat of crap they call “food.” All I can say is “Pound This, Dawgs!” (raises middle finger.)
