If You Build It, They Will Come

I’ve been a Browns fan long enough to carry the scars. I’ve stood in the freezing winds off Lake Erie, watched games through sleet that stung my face, and sat in the aftermath of seasons that ended not with a bang but with a blizzard. And now, with talk of a new dome stadium in Brook Park, I can’t help but think: maybe it’s finally time to take the weather out of the equation.

Here’s the truth. Playing in Cleveland in December and January isn’t football, it’s survival. The weather becomes the great equalizer, turning track stars into plodders, quarterbacks into handoff machines, and playbooks into checklists of whatever you can still run when your fingers are numb.

But imagine the Browns being the only team in the AFC North with a dome. Pittsburgh, Baltimore, and Cincinnati will keep grinding it out in the cold while Cleveland plays in fast, clean conditions every single week. Our athletes could play at full throttle, our passing game wouldn’t sputter in the wind, and talent would decide the outcome.

I’ll never forget 1980. Brian Sipe was the MVP of the league and yet when it mattered most, the weather smothered him. That team should have soared, but the elements clipped their wings. Forty-plus years later, it still hurts to think about. A dome means that never happens again.

Now let me shift from the field to the stands. I’ve been lucky enough to attend games at AT&T Stadium in Dallas several times, and walking into that place is like stepping into the future of football. It’s warm when it’s freezing outside, cool when it’s blistering hot, and everywhere you look there’s something designed to make fans feel like they’re part of something bigger than a game.

You don’t go there to “endure” the game, you go there to enjoy it. That’s the difference.

Picture it: a December Sunday in Brook Park. Instead of bundling up in five layers and battling the wind, you walk into a climate-controlled palace. No frozen hot chocolates, no icy metal bleachers, no shivering while you watch the Browns’ season slip away. You just watch football and enjoy the environment.

And as a fan who’s lived through decades of heartbreak, that sounds like paradise.

Some people will say weather is part of Browns tradition. Maybe. But tradition shouldn’t mean handicapping yourself forever. A dome doesn’t erase Cleveland’s grit it enhances it. It gives us the stage to finally showcase the talent we’ve assembled without having the skies decide the score.

For the team, it’s a competitive advantage. For the fans, it’s comfort and spectacle. And for Northern Ohio, it’s a chance to finally give Browns football the setting it deserves.

If you build it, they will come. And this time, we might actually stay long enough to watch the confetti fall.

So What - Myles Goes Fast

 

I’ve never quite understood why people get so worked up over Cleveland Browns defensive end Myles Garrett’s speeding tickets. Yes, he once had an auto accident. It happens. But in a country where I routinely see motorcyclists riding without helmets, weaving through traffic, and blasting past speed limits, it feels like Garrett is getting an outsized level of scrutiny. At least he was inside a car, wearing his seatbelt, and taking his chances in a controlled environment. To me, that should earn him something of a mulligan.

Now, I’ll admit something: maybe I’m biased because of my own history behind the wheel.

I lived in Europe for 12 years. One of my first company cars was an Audi A4, and I spent many weeks traveling the A1 from Milan to the Veneto region. It didn’t take me long to realize that Italians drive fast. Really fast. And not just on special occasions—fast is the standard.

In the U.S., I had never pushed a car much past 90 mph. Frankly, American cars back then made it difficult. Once you hit 80, the whole frame rattled, the engine roared, and the car felt like it was about to fall apart. But my Audi was different. Smooth, steady, and safe even at high speeds. Every week I crept up a little more, curious to see what the car could handle. One day I hit 205 km/h, about 130 mph, and felt completely in control.

That’s when I understood: European cars are built for this. European drivers are, too. They respect the rules of the road. The passing lane is for passing, and if you’re fast, you stay in it. It’s not unusual to see cars cruising comfortably at 200 km/h.

Of course, not everything is without risk. One afternoon, as I was heading back toward Milan, a Fiat Panda slipped into the passing lane without seeing me. I was flying. I slammed the brakes, laid on the horn, and narrowly avoided disaster. After that, I dialed it back to around 150 km/h (just under 100 mph) still fast by American standards, but enough to feel safe.

So when I hear about Garrett hitting 100 mph and people act like it’s the end of the world, I shake my head. To me, that’s just a European highway cruise. Garrett can afford the best cars, designed to handle those speeds. If he’s on an open highway, wearing his seatbelt, and not endangering a pack of minivans, I say let him enjoy the ride.

That said, there’s one bit of advice I’d give him: install deer whistles. They work, they scare the creatures off, and they might just save him from the unexpected. Or maybe he should just move to Europe, where driving fast isn’t a scandal it’s a way of life.

Does the Ground in Berea Contribute to Browns’ Injuries?

Every year at Browns training camp, it feels like déjà vu. A couple of weeks in, we start hearing the same headlines: “soft-tissue injury,” “hamstring tightness,” “out for precautionary reasons.” In 2025, both quarterbacks Kenny Pickett and Dillon Gabriel went down with hamstring issues before the preseason even got rolling.

Now, I know injuries in football come from everywhere: conditioning, workload, biomechanics, sometimes just plain bad luck. But I can’t help wondering if there’s something else lurking under the surface. Literally.

Here’s where the speculation begins (and I stress: this is just speculation). Berea, where the Browns train, sits on land historically shaped by glaciers, full of sandstone and compacted glacial till. In other words: hard ground. NFL practice fields are engineered with sand bases, drainage, and shock-absorbing layers, but if those layers are shallow or overly compacted, the field could feel a lot less forgiving than, say, the sandy fields of Florida or the loamy soil in California.

There’s science to back up why this matters. Runners and factory workers who spend long hours on hard surfaces like concrete, cement, compacted turf, develop higher rates of foot, ankle, and knee problems. Plantar fasciitis. Shin splints. Stress fractures. If everyday people like me feel those effects working on concrete floors or deep cement foundations, why couldn’t professional athletes, pounding out sprints and drills in August heat, experience the same stress in the form of recurring injuries?

I don’t claim to know how deep or well-cushioned the Browns’ practice fields really are. But given the steady drumbeat of leg injuries every camp, it seems fair to at least ask: is the ground in Berea part of the problem?

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s coincidence. Or maybe, just maybe, the roots of the Browns’ training camp injury woes go deeper than anyone thinks.

Entertainment vs Competition

Just my personal opinion here but I find Touchdown passes and big plays much more entertaining than Pick 6's and fumbles.

A Very Good Day for the Browns

Other than to note the usual mismanagement of the PR elements (Bond revealing he is signing with Cleveland before the Browns could get in front of the narrative) related to the pending Isaiah Bond signing, I am not going down the obvious road of being critical about the Browns adding him to the roster.

Why not?

Two reasons why not.

1.  I honestly believe Jimmy Haslam is fed up enough with the issues the Browns have seen over character to have assured in the case of Isaiah Bond, that the Browns had him visit a shrink for an assessment and they have a solid professional input that the young man has sufficient positive potential to take the risk.  I am ok with that.

2. Isaiah Bond is going to be a significant contributor to the Browns.   I like to compare him to Amon Ra St Brown with one major plus for Bond vis a vis St Brown.  He's fast and he can make defenders stop because he's twitchy.

Good day for the Browns signing Bond.  Very good day. 

Preseason Game 1 vs Carolina - Observations

I know it's preseason but....

Carson Schwesinger - Stud!  Jim Schwartz has to be thrilled, this guy is a best case scenario, he already looks super comfortable.

Mason Graham - Stud!   Yes, Graham had plenty of rookie moments.  I saw him get pushed off the line of scrimmage quite a few times, however, he never gave up and he almost always got off the block and usually made an impact even on plays where he started off badly.  He's strong and he fights off blocks. He got double teamed a few times and handled it fine.   By the time the season starts he is going to be fine, he's going to be a problem for opposing offenses.

Shedeur Sanders - Stud!   OK I know, DTR looked good in the preseason.   But I know a good QB when I see one and Shedeur was facing Carolina's first team D out there and he looked fine.   What i liked the most is Shedeur was looking off free safety's like an old pro, like Joe Flacco!  And once he moved the safety he got the ball where it needed to go.  He's super accurate, his calmness is noteworthy, it brings back memories of Brian Sipe and it's obvious his teammates love him.   Did he make a few small mistakes, sure but he made a couple huge plays too and the Browns gave him almost no reps in practice yet he played clean, great football.

Move Over NFL: This September 1st, College Football Makes Its Primetime Power Play with Belichick and Monday Night

On Monday, September 1, American football fans will witness something unusual, a marquee college football matchup taking center stage on a night traditionally reserved for the NFL. In what feels less like a scheduling fluke and more like a strategic strike, UNC will face TCU in a game packed with talent, storylines, and most importantly, symbolism.

The most intriguing subplot isn’t just the talent on the field  it’s the presence of Bill Belichick, now head coach at UNC, making his college football debut under the primetime lights. Belichick was hired by the Tar Heels in December 2024, and by “coincidence”, just a month later in January 2025, the decision was made to move this highly anticipated game from its originally scheduled Saturday, August 30 to Monday night.

Coincidence? Highly unlikely.

Belichick, who was effectively blacklisted by NFL ownership after his long tenure in New England, is now in a position to challenge the very league that cast him aside, not on the field directly, but on the airwaves and in the advertising budgets. The NIL era has already cracked open the college football landscape, giving large college football programs new tools to build teams loaded with top level talent. Now, with Monday Night Football sitting idle until the NFL kicks off the following week, college football appears ready to test the limits of its own ambitions.

This scheduling move may be college football’s first direct step into the NFL’s media territory. For decades, college football respected the NFL’s domain over Monday nights.  In fact in the entire history of college football only one regular season college game was played on a Monday evening, that was on September 9, 1974:  Notre Dame vs. Georgia Tech.  This game also took place "before" the NFL season started and it surely is no coicidence that Monday evening was never again touched by a college team until now.  

But in the post-NIL world with star players operating as brands, alumni bases energized by high-profile hires, and TV networks hungry for content that unwritten rule may be about to change.

At the center of this moment is Belichick. He knows the value of structure, leverage, and competition. It’s hard not to imagine him relishing the idea of building a college powerhouse that doesn’t just win games, but starts to chip away at the NFL’s $14 billion TV empire. In fact, it’s hard not to imagine him helping college football develop a strategy to compete for the same audience, starting with something as symbolic as Monday night football game that’s not the NFL.

UNC vs. TCU will be an entertaining contest. But it might also be something more, a broadcast beachhead in a broader cultural and commercial shift. If ratings soar and buzz builds, don’t be surprised to see more college programs start circling Monday night as prime real estate.

It’s not just a game. It’s a quiet challenge to the football hierarchy. And it starts one week before the NFL even kicks off.

I know I will be watching! 

Dawg Pound vs Fairy

I am trying to imagine the inner workings of the Cleveland Browns leadership team debating in 2022 whether the team should focus it's midfield logo on Brownie the Elf or the Dawg Pound.

Here is my imagination's version of that debate:

Those in favor of Brownie the elf being the Browns midfield mascot please make your case:  

Brownie the Elf belongs as the Cleveland Browns mascot because he taps into deep roots of tradition, magic, and identity. In Scottish folklore, brownies are fairy-like beings who quietly help with hard work and bring good luck to those who respect them—just the kind of energy a football team and its fans need. Brownie isn’t just whimsical; he’s a symbol of grit, heritage, and a little magic on our side.

Those in favor of a big, vicious dawg being the Cleveland Browns midfield mascot please make your case:

The Cleveland Browns should be represented by a big, mean looking dawg because it captures the toughness, intensity, and alpha mindset that defines the modern NFL. The Dawg Pound isn’t just a fan section, it’s a legacy born in the 1980s from Hanford Dixon’s rallying cry that turned Browns defenders into snarling, relentless defenders. A fierce dog embodies that edge, that fight, and the intimidating presence every team needs. It’s raw, it’s real, and it reflects exactly what it takes to dominate on Sundays.

Who wins???  The fairy of course!!!

Laughingstock: Part II - Brown Helmet Promo...

Only in Browns town does something as dumb as this take place.   Do a PR reveal promo of your new helmet on Lake Erie and have the cameraman fall into the Lake.  Can you say "pay attention to safety" when you do this dumb shit?

Here's Rich Eisen making fun of us: 

Laughingstock: Part I - Brownie the Elf

There is one subject and one subject only that I absolutely 100% agree with Art Modell on.  When Modell took over the Cleveland Browns in 1961 he declared with reference to Brownie the Elf that his first official act would be to "Get rid of that fucker"   Amen, Art!

This week, Pat McAfee dedicated an entire segment to ridiculing Brownie....

Do the Browns not realize that when they held that stupid poll to decide in 2022 whether or not to have Brownie be our midfield logo that it was Steelers, Bengals and Ravens fans that voted for that insanely stupid idea!

I've been a fan since 1974, never not once did I have an emotional attachment to that ridiculous symbol.

A Suggestion to the Cleveland Browns

For the second consecutive year, a Cleveland Browns second-round draft pick has been arrested on a domestic violence charge before training camp even begins. I’m not here to comment on the specific charges this year or last, those are matters for the legal system and for personal accountability. But I do want to offer a sincere suggestion to the Cleveland Browns organization: consider rethinking how you evaluate human beings.

Football is, of course, a violent game played by fierce competitors. Evaluating athletic performance like speed, strength, tape is essential. But when it comes to determining how someone will behave as a professional, as a teammate, and as a representative of your organization, athletic ability is only part of the equation. There’s another side to talent evaluation that too often gets overlooked: the deep, subtle, and nuanced process of understanding character.

Let me share a personal story from a very different world, corporate leadership.

Back in 2007, I was the General Manager of the Italian subsidiary of an American multinational. I was on the rise, and a major corporation, one with global revenues north of $10 billion had expressed interest in me for an executive-level position. As I traveled to the U.S. for final interviews, I was asked to meet a third-party evaluator in a private room at O’Hare Airport. This wasn't a business discussion. This was a psychological evaluation, conducted by a professional with an advanced degree in psychology.

I’ll never forget three aspects of that evaluation, each of which revealed something more about me than any resume could capture.

First, I was given a timed written test and left alone. Five minutes in, a cleaning lady entered by “mistake.” She interrupted me, apologized, and left. Five minutes later, she did it again. It wasn’t random. It was a test: to see if I’d lose my cool, become dismissive, or show signs of impatience under pressure. I didn’t. That wasn’t because I guessed I was being evaluated it’s simply who I am. I treated her kindly and kept my focus.

Second, the test itself contained a few questions that were unsolvable by design. The evaluator wanted to see how I’d react. Would I waste time stubbornly trying to solve the unsolvable, or would I move on and maximize my score? I quickly recognized the trick and finished the test well. That wasn’t about raw intelligence it was about emotional intelligence, adaptability, and judgment.

Third, and most importantly, the evaluator asked a series of quiet, thoughtful questions about my parents and my upbringing. At the time, I didn’t fully understand the intent. But looking back, I see now it was a way of probing my emotional maturity, my inner stability, and the kind of trust I’d learned to build with others from a young age.

In the end, the multinational made me an offer. I turned it down for other reasons, but what stuck with me wasn’t the prestige of the offer it was the quality of the evaluation. They had spent real resources to make sure they understood who they were hiring. Not just the professional. The person.

Cleveland Browns, you’re a billion-dollar enterprise in a league that generates tens of billions annually. Your players represent your brand on and off the field. You invest millions in each draft pick and you invest and guarantee up to $230M in one specific case of an athlete you traded for who had known character question marks. You make enormous investments in players and based on the results I have to seriously question whether or not you are doing the kind of deep, psychological, emotional, and relational evaluation that other industries would consider table stakes for leadership hires.   Maybe you are unlucky, but as the saying goes, fool me once....

Maybe it’s time to bring in expert help or if you already have one, a new expert. Not a guy with a stopwatch. A professional who understands people. Someone who can ask the right questions, create the right pressure tests, and separate immaturity from instability, confidence from arrogance, resilience from volatility.

No system is perfect. No process will catch everything. But with the right approach, you can reduce your risk. And perhaps more importantly, you can build a team of men who will make your fans proud both on Sundays and every other day of the week.

It’s time to take evaluating character as seriously as you evaluate combine results. Because the real test of a team doesn’t begin on the field. It begins with the choices you make off it.

Shedeur and Kumar Go To White Castle

There is a hilarious moment in Harold & Kumar go to White Castle that never fails to crack me up and now, unexpectedly, it also reminds me of Shedeur Sanders.  In the movie, Kumar is sitting in an interview with a respected medical school. The interviewer, played with absurd deadpan by Fred Willard, is clearly an old-school bigot. As the interview unfolds, Kumar brilliant, self-aware, and done with this type of performative nonsense decides to light the whole thing on fire. He makes a mockery of the moment. He knows he doesn’t need this guy’s approval. He knows he’s good enough without it.

And just like that, it all clicked: That’s Shedeur Sanders.

When the 2025 NFL Draft rolled around, I couldn’t help but notice a slow, stunning freefall. Shedeur, once projected as a top-10 pick, watched as team after team passed on him not once, not twice, but four times. The buzz afterward was worse: anonymous NFL executives whispering to reporters that Sanders “didn’t respect the process.” That he acted like he was “above” it.

Above it?

I remember watching ESPN’s live coverage of the draft. They often cut to team draft rooms, supposedly the beating heart of football intellect. And in room after room, one thing stood out: 90% white faces. In a league where over half the players are Black, the front-office representation looked like a corporate boardroom from 1985. It was hard not to notice.

Now let’s be honest. Shedeur Sanders was raised by Deion Sanders a man who’s not just a Hall of Famer, but a cultural force. Prime Time didn’t just play the game; he reshaped it. He taught his kids to believe they belong not to ask permission. So when Shedeur shows up to draft interviews confident, polished, and unwilling to kiss rings, it shouldn’t surprise anyone.

Just like Kumar, Shedeur knew the script and chose not to read from it.

In both cases, there’s something cathartic in watching a brilliant young man reject the approval of a system that’s historically skeptical of people who look like him, sound like him, and carry themselves with the kind of self-possession that makes gatekeepers uncomfortable.

But here’s the twist: Kumar didn’t need Fred Willard’s blessing. And in the long run, Shedeur doesn’t need the NFL’s outdated notion of “process” either.

Because let’s face it how many of these NFL decision-makers have been wrong over and over? They missed on Tom Brady. They passed on Lamar Jackson. They dismissed Jalen Hurts. The league loves to preach meritocracy but too often rewards compliance over courage, familiarity over authenticity.

And Shedeur? He’s betting on himself. He’s betting that talent, preparation, leadership, and self-belief matter more than knowing which privileged NFL scout or executive to flatter.

Will it work? I think it will. Shedeur Sanders might become a superstar quarterback not because he played the game but because he refused to and the fact that 32 NFL teams passed on him four times probably means less than nothing if you really think about it.

Are the Cleveland Browns in Good Hands?

 

If you’ve ever watched Moneyball, you might remember the moment of inspiration. The A’s have just lost Jason Giambi and Johnny Damon. Their GM Billy Beane (played by Brad Pitt) is desperate. Enter Paul DePodesta, brilliant, awkward, and analytically inclined. He points out undervalued players like Scott Hatteberg and Chad Bradford. Suddenly, the A’s are winning again. Cue the montage, cue the triumph of data over instinct.

But hold on. The movie leaves something out.

The A’s also had three Cy Young-level starters: Mark Mulder, Tim Hudson, and Barry Zito. They had Gold Glove third baseman Eric Chavez. They had MVP Miguel Tejada. That’s not a bunch of misfit toys. That’s a core. It wasn’t just math that built that team it was scouting, development, and traditional baseball infrastructure. Paul DePodesta’s analytics helped. But they weren’t everything.

Fast forward to Cleveland. DePodesta, now the Browns’ Chief Strategy Officer since 2016, was hired by owner Jimmy Haslam to bring a Moneyball-style approach to the NFL. And while Haslam has cycled through GMs and head coaches at dizzying speed, DePodesta has remained. He’s the constant in a sea of churn. That should tell you something about his influence.

The question is: has that influence been good?

DePodesta’s Browns have become infamous for zigging when others zag. They’ve drafted injured players high. They’ve targeted undersized defenders who were “value” picks—meaning cheaper. They’ve drafted cornerbacks and safeties who flash athletic metrics but fail to hold up over a brutal NFL season. They’ve taken chances on players most teams wouldn’t touch, like Deshaun Watson, who cost three first-round picks and the largest guaranteed contract in NFL history.

DePodesta was reportedly a major advocate of that move. The theory? Franchise quarterbacks at 27 years old are never available so when they are, you do whatever it takes.

But again, a question nags: If he’s so valuable, why was Houston willing to trade him? The Texans—who knew Watson’s habits, health, and psychology better than anyone and had decided to move on. The Browns saw market inefficiency. Maybe it was just an iceberg, and they bought the Titanic.

This isn’t baseball. Baseball is a sequence of isolated, measurable events: pitch, swing, hit, out. The sample sizes are huge - hundreds of at-bats, thousands of pitches. That’s ideal terrain for analytics.

Football? Much messier.

The number of plays in a season is relatively small. The variables are massive: weather, health, scheme, teammates, matchups, mental preparation. There’s less statistical stability. A player might be brilliant for four weeks and invisible for the next eight. That’s why NFL front offices still lean heavily on experience, tape, and context.

But in Cleveland, analytics became the system, not just a tool within it. And that may be the root of the Browns’ continued inconsistency. They've ignored long-held truths of the game like the idea that defensive tackles must anchor the run. Or that linebackers need durability as much as speed. Or that locker room chemistry, character, and leadership matter more than spreadsheet projections.

Yes, the “football guys” don’t always get it right either. But there’s a reason certain traits recur among great players. There are physical thresholds that history shows must be met. You can’t consistently win in the NFL with a soft middle or brittle safeties. You can't build a championship culture if the face of your franchise is a lightning rod for controversy and mistrust.

Analytics can sharpen a decision when it’s close. But when analytics drive every decision—ignoring tape, history, and intangibles the result is what Browns fans have lived through: expensive mistakes, fragile teams, and flashes of promise followed by thuds of reality.

Football is not baseball. And Cleveland is not Oakland. You can’t moneyball your way to a Super Bowl if you don’t respect the brutal, physical, emotionally complex reality of the NFL.

Jimmy Haslam wanted to outsmart the league. Ten years in, the smarter question might be: Is it time to  start building a football team the way winning football teams do?

Until that question gets answered, the answer to whether the Browns are in good hands is… not yet.