Columns

Their fields yield crushed dreams

They are desperate, not poetic. They are hardened, not lovable.

By JOHN ROMANO
Published June 6, 2007

Cleveland Cavaliers' LeBron James holds the championship trophy after the Cavaliers won the NBA Eastern Conference championship with a 98-82 win over the Detroit Pistons.
	[AP photo]

They are desperate, not poetic. They are hardened, not lovable.

They have none of the romance once claimed by fans of the Red Sox, and only a smidgen of the status bestowed on followers of the Cubs.

They are the devotees of sports in Cleveland, and all they have is heartache. At least those fans born in the last half-century, or so.

The Cleveland Cavaliers begin play against San Antonio in the NBA Finals this week, and they carry a burden that crosses both decades and fields of play.

Do you realize the last major championship won by a Cleveland team was the NFL Championship in 1964? This was before the original Browns moved to Baltimore. Before Jim Brown became an actor. Before the Super Bowl existed.

Throughout the years, Cleveland fans have been done in by The Catch, The Fumble, The Shot and The Drive.

They have been foiled by the forgettable (Craig Counsell), the unbelievable (John Elway) and the immortal (Michael Jordan).

Their teams have never won a Super Bowl, they have never won an NBA title and they have not won a World Series since 1948.

"Being a Cleveland fan means utter despair and desperation. And I'm not kidding," said Michael Beckwith, a 29-year-old Cleveland banker. "Cleveland fans sit around on bar stools talking about those poor Red Sox fans and those poor Cubs fans. Yeah, Boston had the Celtics. The Patriots won three out of four Super Bowls. Cubs fans at least had Jordan and the Bulls and the '85 Bears.

"They've had their moments. Cleveland hasn't had that moment since 1964. We have nothing."

ESPN once tabbed Cleveland as the most tortured sports city in America, and Amnesty International would surely concur.

Look at it this way:

There are 21 markets in North America that have at least three of the four major professional sports leagues (22 if you combine Green Bay and Milwaukee). Of those markets, none has had a championship dry spell approaching Cleveland's.

Philadelphia hasn't won a title in 24 years. Seattle hasn't won in 28 years. And you know what? Pfffft. Cleveland's ring-less streak is up to 43 years.

Heck, Miami did not even have a major-league team 43 years ago, and yet fans from that city have since celebrated two Super Bowl victories, two World Series titles and an NBA championship. Raleigh has won a Stanley Cup. Portland has an NBA title. Phoenix won a World Series.

Even Tampa Bay, with three of the worst startups in expansion history, has come up with a pair of victory parades.

Meanwhile, in Cleveland, they talk about the over-the-shoulder catch made by Willie Mays in the '54 World Series that began the unraveling of an Indians team that had set an American League record for regular-season victories.

They talk of Jordan's shot at the buzzer over Craig Ehlo that eliminated the Cavs in the 1989 playoffs, and of Jordan's brilliant fourth quarter that ended the Eastern Conference final in '92.

They talk of the two AFC Championships lost to Denver in the 1980s when Earnest Byner fumbled and when Elway directed a 98-yard drive to force overtime.

They talk of the 1997 World Series when the Indians were two outs away from winning Game 7 before Counsell drove in the tying run and Edgar Renteria won it with a run-scoring single in the 11th inning.

Perhaps this explains why sports blogs for Cleveland teams have names such as Bitter Fans. Or The Disappointment Zone. Or God Hates Cleveland Sports.

"There are two types of Cleveland fans: Those who still get angry, and those who are numb to the losing," said Eric Allen, a 29-year-old Web developer in nearby Canton. "Le- Bron James and the Cavs have helped. They've given us hope. Hope for this year, and for years to come.

"But those fears still linger in the back of your mind. We've come so close so many times, but it seems like every huge sports moment has ended up being some kind of bad memory."

And so, today, all hope rests on James. A 22-year-old from nearby Akron, who could be the town's most popular sports hero since Brown was leading the NFL in rushing in the 1960s.

He could succeed where Albert Belle in the '90s, Bernie Kosar in the '80s and Austin Carr in the '70s fell short. He could change memories and perceptions.

He could make the rest of the country realize that the suffering of Cleveland fans in the past four decades was as real as any of the more chic locales.

"We saw it in 2004 when the Red Sox won the World Series. Even in Cleveland, I couldn't go into a Barnes & Noble without seeing six different books about Boston fans and breaking the curse," Beckwith said. "We're rolling our eyes, like what the hell is this about?

"I mean, what about us?"

[Last modified June 6, 2007, 01:07:10]