Props to New York Giants fans everywhere, but really, the Super Bowl champions (their benches, anyhow) got a bit more than they bargained for last night with the injury-plagued (already) Browns.

The Browns just keep *almost* getting it right. I’m not as disappointed about the 37-34 loss last night (I mean, it was a 30-3 Giants lead at halftime before the bench players came in and started cleaning up the mess) as I am about the unfortunate mistakes.

Unsporstmanlike conduct followed by false start followed by punt attempt ending in a safety: all in the first quarter. That’ll get the fans going, sweetheart. Then, as if pre-ordained by the football gods, after kick return by young Syndric Steptoe eventually put the Browns on the Giants’ 2, we were once again taken down Memory Lane for a painful reminder of The Fumble, as Derek Anderson and Jamal Lewis couldn’t make a hand-off connection, and the bad guys picked it up and ran it all the way back.

It was like an episode of Keystone Kops. Football is many things, but it should never be funny. Ok, maybe it can be funny from time to time, like highlight-reel-antics funny…but never slapstick. And that’s rather what the undercooked Brownies looked like last night, at least in the first half. In fact, Romeo Crennel should have his A-V guys speed up the highlight film and add a soundtrack of a player piano and yip- yippy sounding clarinet. It might lighten the mood in what is certain to be a less-than-fabulous team meeting in Berea this afternoon.

Still, the Goliaths suffered some blows, which may have revealed that the “David” team might have a few good tricks in its little slingshot. Whether or not that will be enough to get above .500 over the coming months remains to be seen.

There are those who say the Browns can’t win it all, and that they never will; it’s just not in the cards. Others doubt they’ll even make the playoffs. They might be right, but it was also generally accepted among football minds far sharper than mine that Phil Dawson didn’t have enough leg to kick a 56-yard field goal.

Hmm. Maybe “David” has a chance after all.

Fink out.

Photo credit: Abbott & Costello Meet the Keystone Kops - Universal Pictures

And some people think we theater-types live for the histrionics. Take for instance the soap opera swirling around the “women’s” gymnastics team from China (gold medal winners over the Americans). US gymnastics coach Bela Karolyi called them “babies in diapers.” They called him “man chewing on sour grapes.” Regardless, breaking the rules is breaking the rules. If the IOC declared that the minimum age to compete is 16, it’s a rule that should be followed. No getting around that. But then, there’s the Chinese team…

But it is what it is, and griping about it won’t do any good. Team USA (who, on average, outweighs the Chinese team by 15 pounds and is taller by 6 inches) had a great showing winning their silver medal. And let’s face it, those little Chinese girls flew. No arguing that point.

Still…if these are 16-year-old girls (especially the three on the right), I will eat my hat.

I’ve read several blogs about it, many with long-winded responses from former gymnasts, Asian people in general, Europeans and other Americans. Everybody’s got a point (I’m paraphrasing here):

“If it was the Americans instead of the Chinese, they’d stop the Games and do an investigation.”

“If it was the Americans instead of the Chinese, no one would say a word.”

“Asians look younger.”

Ok, that last one gets an eye roll and a tongue cluck. The little (and I do mean little — she weighs like 68 pounds) girl on the far right is missing a baby tooth. I guess that could happen if you’re 16…Cha, and monkeys might fly out of my…

But, who’s going to bust China’s chops when they’re the hosts? So, when in Rome…or, like the Times article said, ” When in North America, do as the North Americans do — overreact. When in China, overlook.”

And remember Mark Spitz? He was totally an American hero back in 1972 (unfortunately, he swam his magic at the cursed Olympic games in Munich). He won seven gold medals, and is making news again now that Michael Phelps is looking to do the same, and one better.

But I read an article about Spitz this morning that was a bit disturbing — sometimes I wish people would just let me remain happily ignorant in my delusions.

Then there’s this. Whatev.

And while it’s not an Olympics matter, it’s olympic in its shame: there’s no excuse for this.

And that’s all I have to say about it. You have a lovely day. Whoa…it’s Thursday already. I lost 24 hours somewhere.

Fink out.

Photo credits: New York Times (Chinese gymnastics team), Richard Lim (Mark Spitz)

….when it will be my teams’ turn to go to the Big Party (or win it).

Of course, I’m talking about the Browns and the Indians. (Not much of a basketball fan, and the Cavs have “been there” once, but we won’t talk about that. *coughSWEPTcough*)

I know, I know. As my friend RD will say, “You should be a Cubs fan.” At least the baby bears have some company in the dungeon. And the opinions are many as to exactly why the Indians fell off the bike this year. And now, of course, when it doesn’t count, they win 5 in a row. Sometimes I want to hurt people.

I guess that’s what keeps people like me coming back to watch, season after season. Maybe *this* season will be the one.

Or, I could dust off that wonderful old adage that Browns and Indians fans have learned to memorize: There’s always next year.

Feh.

Hey! Remember when the Browns went to the Super B….

Ah, wait. Wrong team.

But remember last year when the Browns went to the pla….

Nuts. That was the stupid St****rs.

Sometimes I wonder why I bother. But I just can’t let go. Not after almost 30 years.

I got to thinking this morning about how long it’s been since I’ve actually been to a Browns game. I think it was 1992 or something. Anyway, it was a time when names like Bernie Kosar, Frank Minnifield, Reggie Langhorne, Webster Slaughter and Hanford Dixon were household words around these parts.

Yeah, I remember the ribbing Mr. Side-Arm used to take. (And don’t forget the tremendous beatdowns.)

And yes, darling, I remember “The Drive” and “The Fumble.” Go ahead. Mock me. Ho ho, very funny. Ha ha, it is to laugh.

But those were great days for Cleveland football fans. And even though I’m all vain and girly and won’t touch spiders, I know more about football than any woman I know. My dad used to say (as he’d drill footballs into my 11-year-old ribcage), “You’re the closest thing to a boy I’ve got - now get tough!” Heh. Nostalgic, tender moments from my childhood…

But I digress. This year, I pledge to not give up on the Dawgs. I mean, it’s not that the talent’s not there. Anyone with a brain will admit that Kellen Winslow and Braylon Edwards are fun to watch. It’s the putting-it-together part that has bitten the collective butt of the Browns. Seemingly over and over.

Despite all the talent and the fact that there are as many opinions about this as there are seats in Browns Stadium, any Cleveland fan will tell you that playtime is over; it’s time to get down to business. We have long-standing animosity towards the Ravens (I know, get over it) and even longer-standing hatred for P******rgh. (And I swear if I ever see Sam “You Don’t Live in Cleveland; You Live in Cincinnati!” Wyche on the street, I will drop him where he stands.)

But we need to file away all those extreme prejudices, and concentrate on winning. 10-6 and missing the playoffs to the team with the ugliest uniforms in the NFL ain’t gonna pass muster.

Let the games begin….

Photo credits: si.com, clevelandbrowns.com, bernie-kosar.com

Reading reports about the resources and personnel dedicated to security at the 2008 Olympic Games in China made me think this morning about a time when security was almost non-existent at the Olympics. Specifically, 1972, in Munich.

Who can forget this picture? I remember everyone being glued to their TVs as ABC’s Roone Arledge fed the horrible news into Jim McKay’s earpiece, giving him the unenviable job of telling the world, “They’re all gone.”

An actual terrorist attack had played out on live TV. It was surreal. Olympic athletes were taken hostage, and none made it out alive. The rescue effort still stands as one of the biggest, most tragic screw-ups of its kind on record.

I don’t actually remember watching a lot of the live coverage as it happened, but I remember my dad talking about it at dinner, and seeing it later on videotaped reports on the news. Just like when Lawrence Taylor broke Joe Theismann’s leg — they played it over and over and over.

Many have told the sad story very well; better than I ever could. There’s an excellent pictorial summary here, and a surprisingly well-researched account at Wikipedia. If you don’t know what happened on that September day in 1972, you should really go look. It’ll give you some clarity on the long-standing Palestinian-Israeli conflict, as well as shed interesting light on the predicament in which the German government found itself (that is, deciding how to deal with hostage negotiations when the hostages were Jews — many of whom had relatives who died in the Holocaust, just 30 years before).

In 2005, Steven Spielberg directed a film about the aftermath of the Munich massacre, tracing the experiences of the five men selected by the Israeli government to avenge the slaughter by assassinating key members of the Black September terrorist organization. The film, Munich, was nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars the following year. Trailer here:

On a brighter note — the party for the Thriller’s birthday was fabulous. We had 18 people in for dinner and laughs. And now…back to Bach. Reality bites.

Fink out.

Photo © 1972 The Associated Press