Titans Gameday Notes: A Beleaguered Browns Fan Lashes Out



The beating I took in the stands was nothing next to the beating my hometown team took on the field.

Maybe it was an omen. Not more than five minutes after I headed off to LP Field for yesterday's Titans/Browns game, I was Serpas-ized coming off the Jefferson Street Bridge. Sure, 52 in a 35 is a little excessive, but I was pretty sure I was on the way to witness the biggest upset of the NFL season, and I didn't want to be late. 

I knew I shouldn't have offered to pick up my friend at the Werthan Lofts. (By the way, what's the difference between an apartment and a loft? An asshole lives in the loft.) Still, I figured the officer would see my Browns hat and have sympathy for me, but no such luck. 

With the Browns up 6-0 at the end of the first quarter, I frantically started texting my Titans-loving friends, knowing my window for trash-talking might slam shut in no time, and the texts would be flying back at me at twice the speed. Still, when you're a Cleveland fan, you exploit any opportunity to gloat, no matter how brief it may turn out to be. 

From there it was all downhill for the boys in brown and orange. No need to relive the details here. I'm sure all of you Titans fans were hootin' and hollerin' with every cringe and indignity I had to suffer through. I hope you're happy with yourselves, beating up on a helpless, horribly coached team helmed by a third-string quarterback. Pat yourselves on the back. 

Meanwhile, a few observations on why Titans fans are lame, the economy is fine and mullets never go out of style, after the jump:


Check out the stands as the second half was about to begin. Sure, some people were still at the concessions, but empty seats were in surprisingly ample supply throughout the game.

As someone who grew up going to four or five Browns games a year in the old, blustery Cleveland Municipal Stadium--where the game-time wind-chill factor (or what some boneheaded weather reporters here like to call, "the feels-like temperature") was routinely 10 below zero--I can safely say that Titans fans are some of the lamest in the NFL. And in case you think I'm biased, a 2006 statistical study attempted to determine the most loyal NFL fans for the period from 1996-2005. The Titans were 28th out of a field of 32 teams. And who was first? Why, Cleveland, of course.

During the period covered in the study, the Browns won one-third of their games, yet filled 99.8 percent of their seats. And this in a setting that frequently resembled the set of Dr. Zhivago. (OK, maybe we're not so much loyal as we are gluttons for punishment, but you get the point.)


Cleveland fans heading to the old Cleveland Municipal Stadium, circa 1978.

Meanwhile, the Titans are having a stellar season, yet there were empty seats all around us. Surely most or all of these tickets were sold, no? Yet many folks couldn't be bothered by the cold weather (or what we in Cleveland would refer to as "a nice spring day"). And as the Titans scored their first touchdown to take the lead, the fans in the concessions lines who were watching on TV monitors overhead barely emitted a peep.

And what's up with that stadium announcer? He sounds like a Southern dandy sipping a martini at the Belle Meade Country Club. You want your stadium announcer to sound like Chuck D., not Thurston Howell III.



This was the scene in the club-seat concourse. The only massage you might get at a Browns home game would have a lot more knuckle and would focus on the face.

If the economy is bad, you wouldn't know it in the club section at LP Field. Not only were fans who had paid $100-plus per ticket lined up spending gobs of money on overpriced grub and beer--they were also queued up for massages. Massages? At an NFL game?


A stunning example of the Kentucky Waterfall. Extra points for the Earl Campbell jersey.

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