By Kim Urig
I am so pleased to be invited to contribute to Bitter Orange. It felt apropos, knowing that for many years Cleveland is not even a bridesmaid to the bride. When the opportunity for a Johnny-Come-Lately to the Bitter crew was extended, I leaped with Cleveland pride. Someone likes me! They want me to be part of the group. They want me to participate. I could relate in the abstract as well as a Browns fan.
See, for many years now, the Browns aren’t even bridesmaids. The best they can do is hope for a wedding invite, but maybe not even the reception. Come and watch how Football makes it happen, but don’t you dare think about crashing our party. Really, you don’t even have a mascot.
No, Rover, as adorable as he is, does not count. (There was a time I considered trying out for the role of Rover, but common sense stopped me, I’m clumsy. Couple that with an oversized costume… disaster on the horizon. On second thought, what mascot would be better for the Browns than one who trips and falls on a regular basis?)
It wasn’t always this way. Really. I remember the Kardiac Kids. The first time I fell in love with my Browns. Wait, they never made it to the altar then either. Nevermind. But Brian Sipe was my first love. My locker, freshman year (1980) was a collage of his accomplishments. Then I moved to Florida and it was pre-internet days. My friends would MAIL me newspaper clippings of my Browns. It was good because in Ft. Myers, the best football to be found was NOT the Tampa Bay Buccaneers (pre cool pirate days, in their orange and red hideousness) but this team called the Miami Dolphins, with this guy Dan Marino. What I also remember were the stories about these two young quarterbacks Bernie Kosar and Vinny Testaverde, who occasionally made headlines for that college in Miami. Little did I know, but one day these college boys would be at the helm of my beloved Browns.
I still remember getting this clipping from his amazing game against the Baltimore Colts. (who shall forever be in the Browns hall of shame for leaving their town, resulting in A.M. ultimately moving the Browns. SEE, bitter goes way back!). I digress, fall of 1981, Brian Sipe had some bandage over his split pants when he passed for 444 yards. Please tell me one of my Bitter friends remembers this, because Google images does not.
At any rate, I moved back to Ohio in 1983, and of course once again, the era of “almost there” had about ended. Rutigliano was gone. Shotzy was in. Followed by one after another. Follow along: Bud Carson, Bill Belichick (winner of lifetime grudge award, I will boo him forever), Chris Palmer, Butch Davis (recipient of my coach who did no wrong award for reasons unrelated to football… he told me my daughters were beautiful, AMEN!), Terry WHO? Robiskie, Romeo Crennel, Eric Mangini (who I cheered for exposing that cheater Belichick), and now… Pat Shurmur. And an interim or two I may have missed. I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. I cheer for the Browns, always.
The crazy part is? Anyone could coach the Browns and they would squander first round picks (hello Tim Couch? Brady Quinn?), they could lose the team and come back, they could fire and hire and fire again… I am convinced that my Browns will not win. Ever. Not the big one.
And yet, I love ‘em. I love their nondescriptness. I love that they inspire Bitter loyalty. I love that I have memories. I love that in 1986, I went to the airport in preTSA days and waited patiently with a huge poster that said “We Still Believe” to greet our team as they got off the plane. I love that I actually felt the need to once fashion a necklace of Milkbones. I love that my oh-so-serious spouse once painted his face in team colors.
We believed and we still do. It’s like believing in Santa Claus. It makes us feel good to think we may have a winning sports team. Cleveland is the city of eternal optimism.
I didn’t realize how positive the city was until I moved to Youngstown a little over 3 years ago. Comedians have joked that if you’re down on Cleveland, you just need a dose of Youngstown. I will only testify that it’s bit rustier in Youngstown than Cleveland. It’s also just as close to Pittsburgh as it is Cleveland. The area is probably split 50/50 for fans. When we first moved here, my then 9 year old decided that following the Steelers (with her classmates) was more fun than following the Browns.
I resisted the urge to tell her that following the Browns isn’t about winning and having fun, dangnabit! It’s about never giving up. It’s knowing that you have to keep trying, hoping and believing.
Instead I bit my tongue and watched one debacle of a season after another. It’s about taking solace in the 5-11 seasons and finding something positive. It’s about thinking that it was great to beat the Patriots. It’s about finding something good in even the ugliest of years.
It’s about optimism and hope. And I still believe.
Yesterday, this same child of mine, with the wisdom of a few more years said to me, “Mom, there is no way I can cheer for the Steelers anymore. Cleveland is my hometown. That’s where I should cheer.”
The end.
Oh. P. S.
1) A few times a week, we will put up a funny pic on Bitter Orange & Brown Facebook fan page. 
Goodbye Old Friends... and don't forget to remove all firearms from your bags before you arrive at the airport. #helpfultip 
Ladies, you've asked for "sports coverage"? 
My friend Frank Youngwerth has become my surrogate uncle. I met him at church and noticed he had an awful lot in common with my late dad, who I miss so much: a diehard, optimistic Cleveland fan, a man who dared to say the 3 words “maybe next year.” Frank’s also a trumpet player, a member of the church choir, a college fraternity man, a conservative Republican who worked his life in sales, and all around friendly, great guy, all just like my dad. (And because I also have lost my only uncle, I have given Frank the job of being my “Uncle Frank.”)
I am so pleased to be invited to contribute to Bitter Orange. It felt apropos, knowing that for many years Cleveland is not even a bridesmaid to the bride. When the opportunity for a Johnny-Come-Lately to the Bitter crew was extended, I leaped with Cleveland pride. Someone likes me! They want me to be part of the group. They want me to participate. I could relate in the abstract as well as a Browns fan. 
I’m pissed about the teams in the Super Bowl. There I said it. (Sorry it has taken me so long at admit this, I’ve been trying to process the suck that Feb. 6 will be.) 
(But a good chance of gnawing)
Your Bitter Orange & Brown BFF's have joined forces with G9sports.com, a national network of female sports writers which launched yesterday so as not to steal any of the Groundhog's thunder, since we know for a fact that he loves his place as the media darling of early February.
