The OBR wishes every Browns fan in cyberspace the very happiest Festivannukwaanzistmas (just pick the part of that you like).
It's been a tough year, but next week comes this thing called "New Year's Day", which we suspect represents a really good time to make a fresh start.
For my part, I hope to lose a lot of weight, do a better job of taking care of things around the house, and get the Browns back into the playoffs.
How about you?
Anyhow, as the OBR staff takes a day to spend with their families, we hope you're having a great holiday.
A couple of Browns fans recently sent us some Christmas poems, which we thought we would share with you today. Enjoy and GO BROWNS*!!!
The Night Before Christmas (Adapted) by The Unknown Poet:
Twas the Night Before Christmas, when all through the
Randy Lerner's stirring was quieter than a mouse;
The Jerseys were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes a return to glory would soon be there;
Fans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of super bowls danced in their heads
With beer in my hand and pizza in my lap
The Browns on Sunday have been replaced with a nap,
When out of Berea there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the computer to see what was the matter.
I clicked on my favorites and searched in a flash,
Loading the OBR but fearing a crash.
I jumped to the insiders because I had to know,
Who was this fellow about to rack in the dough?
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
A new coach was hired and the press conference was near.
Lane was breaking the story but John was too quick,
Rich was just thankful the Browns did not hire Alabama's St. Nick.
The Browns new leader paid homage to those before he came,
He knew the greats and called them by name
"Now, Jim! Now Lou! Now Ozzie and Joe
Now Bernie! Now Paul! Now Motley and Otto.
To the top of the division! We shall climb that Wall!
We will run away! Run away! Run away from them all!"
As the dry leaves of autumn begin to Fly,
And doubtful fans clinch that bottle of Rye
Up through the standing those Brownies flew,
Passing the Bengals, Ravens, and Steelers too.
Watching the game, I heard some goof,
The Browns still suck; I will give you the proof.
As I drew my fist and was turning around,
I noticed it was a Steeler making that sound.
He was dressed in yellow and black from head to foot,
It was like some weird combination of urine and soot;
I smiled and stated the Browns are now back,
Before he could reply there was a snowball attack.
He was hit in the nose and his eyes became blurry;
His nose spouted blood like juice from a cherry.
His tiny little mouth drew up in a bow,
He was mad as hell as cleaned his beard of the snow.
Curses he yelled from the top of his breath,
I will hate Browns till the day of my death.
The rivalry was back there was no denying,
Sundays filled with cheers is much better than crying.
The future is bright for a fan base in need,
The Browns just need the right man to take the lead.
For now be thankful the draft is in sight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Here's another, from new friend Tim Gase. He calls this "Twas the End of the Season":
Twas the End of the Season and all through the town
All the creatures were stirring and wore a big frown
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In the hopes that St. Lerner would fix the mess there
The fans were nestled all snug in their cups
While all visions of playoffs went up in big puffs
With ma in her Browns' scarf and me in my cap
We screamed at the TV "What is all this crap!?"
When out on the field there arose such a clatter
I jumped to my feet to see what's the matter
Away to the TV I flew like a flash
Ripped open the nachos and grabbed at my ass
The refs on the field had flagged the Browns' play
And we groaned even more, "What a miserable day"
When what to my wondering eyes did appear
But a bunch of bad players dressed in football type gear
With a big fat coach, not lively or quick
I know in a moment it wasn't St. Nick
Slower than turtles his coursers they came
As he whistled and shouted and called them all names
Now Braylon! Now, Donte! Now Kellen and Thomas
On Brady! On Jason! Oh Savage, you promised!
With a first and 10 waiting they got all but 8
And then dashed away quickly awaiting their fate
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the tube
The fan base start screaming "Oh, Romeo, you boob!"
Then up to the scrimmage line the defense did creep
And gave up a touchdown with nary a peep
So Romeo all dressed in his Orange and Brown
Stood gaping and wondering at just what went down
While fans screamed loudly for the head of Mel Tucker
The grumbling from others was "get rid if that…!"
His eyes were so red with the burden of losing
And cheeks were all weathered from the verbal abusing
His droll little mouth was drawn up in an "o"
Showing chins now a quivering and starting to roll
The stump of a pencil he held tight in his teeth
While the steam from his wrath circled his head like a wreath
He had a broad face and quite a large belly
That shook when he yelled, like a bowl full of jelly
He was chubby and plump, a pudgy old elf
And the fans did they sigh in awe of his health
With a twitch in his eye and a jerk of his head
He knew very soon he'd have no job ahead
He spoke very little, went straight to his work
Mumbling so faintly that "Phil Savage is a jerk!"
He then took his clipboard and looked at the clock
And suddenly realized that no one could block
So he sighed and looked for a play that would score
On a team with out a quarterback or tight end no more
But then he did grumble, his voice it did grate
It couldn't be worse than "RED RIGHT 88"
These remind me of why I got into doing this stuff. Browns fans are the greatest, even when fate is dealing them kidney punches.
Better times await. Have a great and safe holiday season!!
* Yes, I can still say that after this year. You can, too, I know it.