While not publicly announcing it, the Browns informed season
ticket holders this past week that prices will be going up, somewhere between
$6 and $15 depending on their seat location.
And rather than tout the usual reasons for raising prices, such as “it cost
money to be this successful,” club president Alec Scheiner said that the market
was telling the team it was time.
Just how was the market being so chatty with Scheiner? Well,
he looked at the secondary market saw that people were selling tickets on
occasion for more than twice the face value.
From there he extrapolated that fans, particularly the most loyal and
not, say, the ones that frequent the secondary market for high demand games,
were just itching to pay more. And if
this wasn’t enough of a message, Scheiner just figured it’s been 7 years since
prices were increased, so what the heck?
As this was being “announced” in the usual way that bad news
gets announced, I happened to be contemplating exactly why anyone continues to be
a season ticket holder. I’m not
advocating against renewing season tickets or criticizing those who do. To paraphrase Don Corleone, it doesn’t matter
to me how a person wants to spend his money.
I’m just wondering exactly what possesses one to continually invest in a
franchise that repeatedly squanders the money it has been given in ways that
shake the head and puzzle the conscience.
It’s not just that the Browns haven’t been successful. It’s more that they’ve relegated to high art
all the ways large and small it takes to sustain failure for so many years.
The Browns didn’t fire their head coach this offseason,
which qualifies as a high water mark for owner Jimmy Haslam. But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been nearly
as disruptive as if they would have. The
Browns have just hired another offensive coordinator and are finalizing their
plans, at least I think they are, with respect to both a quarterbacks and
receivers coaches. So another year,
another philosophy and another shakedown period.
Meanwhile the personnel on this team, particularly the ones
these new coaches will have to instruct in the mystical ways of their magical
offense, are just as much a mess. Much
of it started when general manager Ray Farmer curiously did not opt to draft
any viable receivers in the offseason despite knowing that Josh Gordon wasn’t
going to be available to them. Instead
he brought this franchise the biggest, bestest, hot mess the NFL has seen in
years, one Johnny Manziel.
Now with Gordon likely gone for a year and probably forever,
quarterback Brian Hoyer likely off to test free agency, Manziel off to find the
next party, a coaching staff in flux and untested, Haslam and Scheiner have to convince
season ticketholders of two things in order to keep that pool from shrinking
further. First is that they know what
the heck they’re doing. Tall order. Second, that there will be a payoff to this
investment in something other than an offseason meet-and-greet with Hanford
Dixon. Even taller order.
Perhaps the best way to judge the Browns’ current ability to
move into a status of something other than also-ran is to place them in context
with Sunday’s Super Bowl participants.
Top to bottom, side to side, the Browns are not competitive at nearly
every position on the roster, including coaching, with either the Seattle
Seahawks or the New England Patriots.
Stated differently, once I spot you Joe Thomas, name me another player
on the Browns who would start for either team on Sunday.
It takes time, God does it take time, for a franchise to
improve. Yet, oddly, the one sport where
teams can turn more quickly than any other, is the NFL. There are examples every year where doormat
teams the previous year are now playoff contenders, and vice versa. The NFL’s system, from its draft structure to
its salary cap, keep most teams relatively close to each other, meaning that success
or failure can turn on one or two acquisitions.
Yet for the Browns things never seem that close. They are the anti-Patriots, an outlier, a
team that consistently foils the odds, except where the Patriots succeed year
in and year out, the Browns fail. They
can’t get better, they won’t get better and believe me, this franchise has
tried everything to get better.
So again I ask, I wonder, why does anyone continue to invest
in this team as a season ticket holder?
Maybe the answer is that the question is rhetorical and as such isn’t
subject to being answered, at least in the physical world.
**
Meanwhile, speaking of the aforementioned Gordon, he wrote
an open letter, published on sports site The Cauldron that serves as both a mea
culpa and a backhanded slap at folks like Charles Barkley, Cris Carter and
Stephen A. Smith, all of whom opined on the state of Gordon’s affairs.
Gordon has a point, limited, but a point. Barkley, Carter and Smith, as paid talking
heads with time to fill, were full of empathy and tough love for Gordon when he
tested positive again, this time for alcohol.
As Gordon notes, they don’t know him, never have spoken to him, and
should thus refrain from making statements about him.
I guess, but then again don’t they, don’t we, know enough
about Gordon to offer an opinion? Isn’t
that the job of the media? We cover
Gordon and lately that coverage is more about how he’s screwed up a promising
career than that promising career. So
offering an opinion on the screwing up part is valid, having observed the
circus for the last few years.
Gordon takes responsibility, mostly, for his screw ups, and
claims he’s not a victim while also detailing exactly why he’s a victim: tough
upbringing, lack of guidance, hanging out with the wrong people, being immature,
etc. But after reading the letter, I’m
more convinced than ever of two overarching points: Gordon is complex in his
immaturity and he’s still in very deep denial.
Let’s start with the latter and work our way to the former. Gordon claims he hasn’t smoked marijuana
since before he was drafted by the Browns in 2012. Frankly, that’s hard to believe. He tested positive for the substance last
year but clings to the widely discredited defense of second hand smoke.
Here’s where the personal experiences come in to inform that
opinion, in case Gordon wants to pen his next letter to me instead of Carter In my other life, I’ve tried several drug
cases dealing with the consequences that have flowed to individuals who have
tested positive, often for marijuana.
The defense is almost always the same: “I was at a party where others
were using and I must have inhaled the second hand smoke.”
That defense has never worked in any case I’ve tried, or in
any case that I know of, and it didn’t work for Gordon, either. The reason is simple. According to virtually all toxicology
experts, short of standing in a phone booth-sized room (for the younger among
us, a room approximately the size of a typical basement broom closet) for 8
hours while 8 people in that same room smoked continuously, a person would not
test positive at the thresholds typically used, including those used by the
NFL.
Maybe Gordon’s party took place in just those circumstances,
but that’s unlikely. The truth he doesn’t
seem to want to admit, at least publicly, is that he did use. Maybe he’s so completely bought into the
narrative advanced by his lawyer during his arbitration that he now doesn’t
even know what is true. But it remains
that Gordon did test positive and of all the possibilities out there as to why,
the absolute least likely is that he was a victim of second-hand smoke.
Moreover, let’s just assume he was. What the heck was he doing putting himself in
that situation given the precarious nature in which his career hung in the
balance? Is that immaturity or is it
stupidity? It’s probably both.
Which gets to the first point. Gordon is complex in his immaturity. He shows remarkable insight into his
shortcomings but is both unable and unwilling to completely change his
tendencies. He details his latest
positive test coming as the result of drinking on a private plane after the
final game, a game in which he was suspended for not showing up to work the day
before the game. It was an essentially an “oh shit” moment when he landed and saw
the message instructing him to report for testing within 4 hours. He knew he wouldn’t pass and didn’t.
But in describing even this situation, he can’t bring
himself to take full responsibility. He
knows he shouldn’t have been drinking but more or less shrugs it off by hinting
at the defense he’ll offer in arbitration, claiming that the agreement to not
drink wasn’t particularly fair anyway and besides he it was an agreement that
applied only during the season and the Browns’ season had actually ended. Of course the football season hadn’t ended as
the good teams were on their way to the playoffs, which was the point of the
agreement he made not to drink. Gordon
is used to offering up a bad defense.
This one won’t work either and I suspect he knows this.
I
will give Gordon this. He is incredibly
immature. His letter was a nice but
incomplete start on the journey to manhood.
Unfortunately he lives in a bubble that retards growth, suppresses
maturity and he’s just too damn comfortable in it to make the real changes in
his life that could actually help him get his career back on track. Maybe another year off will do the trick, but
I doubt it. Hopefully he’s just on leave
from the car dealership and they are more tolerant of employees with his kind
of immaturity.