That dripping sound you hear is from all the egg rolling down my chin.
I told you in my bye week article that there was no chance that Cleveland could or would win this game. I told all my friends and family that the Browns would be out of it by the 1st quarter en route to a 41-10 thrashing at the hands of the G-Men.
The only whipping that happened tonight was the Browns doing it to the Giants.
No punts? 3 interceptions by the secondary? Jamal Lewis running like a beast? Jerome Harrison/Joshua Cribbs showing off their speed? Derek Anderson playing like I thought Eli Manning would play? Braylon Edwards holding on to the ball and making huge plays?
A dominant Browns win? In Primetime?
Did I just witness that?
Am I concerned that the Giants rolled up nearly 200 yards on the ground? Am I bothered that at one point the false start penalties were so bad that Cleveland center Hank Fraley got in on it?
But at the moment, I don't care.
I truly don't care.
I've just witnessed my favorite team thrash the world champions on Monday Night Football.
The egg is on my face, down my back, all over the article I wrote during the bye week and more is coming each minute that I think about how far off I was in my thinking about the team on this particular night.
I hope chickens in Cleveland are worn out by late December trying to produce all the eggs to throw at me.
Nothing would make me happier than to be completely and totally wrong about my dire predictions for this franchise.
At least for tonight, I am wrong and happy.
And I hope I stay wrong and happy.