AB: Fluffy Orbs of Pure Doom

Erstwhile webmaster Art Bietz is coherent long enough to provide his usual "insight".

Due to some mysterious "contract" we have yet to see, ex-webmaster Arthur B. Bietz is permitted to rant for two minutes or so during each broadcast of the Bernie's Insiders Radio Program. This is what he said last evening. Keep in mind that neither Bernie Kosar nor the staff of BerniesInsiders.com are likely to agree with his views, or even pretend to pay attention when he offers them.

It's one of those things that you see if you go to the games, but you don't see via the television.

The lucky ones outside of Cleveland Browns Stadium missed this soul-scarring experience.

By apparent common agreement, it was not even reported in the papers.

You see, there was a deadly avalanche of snow during the fourth quarter of Sunday's typically depressing 20-14 loss to the Jacksonville Jaguars.

It was truly horrific. With a light snowfall during Sunday's game, along with a few reserves of snow remaining after a couple inches which fell the previous night, some nefarious - yet, resourceful - Cleveland Browns fans were able to cobble together well over two dozen deadly spheres of snow and ice and send them hurtling from the stands onto the field at Cleveland Browns Stadium as the game ended.

Yes, that's right. Snowballs. Snowy orbs of doom. Snowicide bombers.

I personally watched one of these death spheres miss a Floridian by less than a foot. The experience has left me somewhat shaken.

But at least the violent wintery nightmare created some late drama to distract from the usual cacaphony of bad news which passes for a December NFL game in Cleveland.

Oddly, this game didn't seem to be one which would end in the the poetry of fluffy frozen water impacting the turf.

In fact, the first half was glorious!

We saw an unhurried Charlie Frye toss a couple of touchdown passes and otherwise look worthy of being a Browns quarterback with a "nine" on his jersey. Braylon Edwards looked like a first-round draft pick is supposed to look, providing Browns fans with a glimpse of how the other half lives.

You know, the half which supports winning football teams and where buying a player's jersey is less risky than helping accidental emailer Dr. Otananaganga with his Nigeria-to-US bank transactions.

By the end of the second half, though, we knew we were back in Cleveland.

Some second half adjustments on the part of wild-eyed Jack Del Rio, a defensive-minded head coach still bearing the stench of Baltimore, ended Frye's good time by sending blitzers (also wild-eyed) at the rookie, as well as showing a bunch of different looks.

Then, of course, came the season-ending injury to our top draft pick.

Sheesh! It's about time we got that over with. Usually the Browns are much more efficient at dismantling potential stars.

So, here's Sunday in a nutshell:

The Browns show give fans a ray of hope... pull that away mercilessly... force-feed us advertising messages about official meat products... make us hum along with some heartless bastards named Dave and Buster... make us watch some nouveau football team that can't even sell out playoff games school us... sell us beer at 400% markup... and finish that off with the loving hammerblow to the back of the noggin by busting up yet another top draft pick.

Then they charge us all about $50 for the right to enjoy the experience. In the cold.

Is this NFL football or some sort of S-and-M club?

Yeah, yeah. I know that here's where I'm suppoed to go "Hmmm" and "Harrumph" and "Hafarfarfar" about bad fans chucking packed snow at the field.

But, you know, after ten years or more of continual beatdowns, there's a part of me that sometimes feels it should be snowballs for the whole lot of 'em, from Paul Tagliabue on down.

That's right boys.... line up.... Let the TV "color" announcers stand in front, owners next up, and let's try to work it out so that Ray Lewis gets a couple of turns.

You know I'm ready.

I've got a front yard full of fluffy death, and I ain't afraid to chuck it.

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