Cleveland: What a City

I’ve recently read and heard about how Katrina victims are still living in trailers, waiting for their city to be rebuilt and their lives to be returned to some semblance of normalcy. 9/11 will long be a part of all New Yorkers’ daily lives, with rescue workers going into the hospitals with respiratory symptoms from everything they inhaled that day. Mines collapse in West Virginia. Earthquakes and forest fires ravage California. Snowstorms coat the Dakotas in April. Floods along the Mississippi, hurricanes on the East Coast, and droughts throughout the Great Plains all make this country a harsh place to live.

Cleveland, however, is relatively sheltered from the harshest treatments that Mother Nature throws at this country. Sure, we have some tornadoes, the occasional minor earthquake shakes our foundation every once in a while (I believe we’ve had two in twenty years), and every year snowstorms smother our city with the weight of its whiteness.

But we can handle it. I can’t think of one time that any natural disaster has led the President of the US to request emergency funding to help us out of a jam. No, we’ve been generally pretty self sufficient in that regard, relying instead on what money we’ve got. Being in the Snow Belt, we budget for snowplows and salt trucks. And while our education system might need a little re-hauling, our public schools aren’t so much worse than those across the US of A.

But when it comes to our reputation, it sucks. People remember Cleveland for the Cuyahoga River fire (which happened back in 1969!), the Drew Carey show (which was shot in LA, although he was from Cleveland), or for where Bill Belichick used to coach before he led the New England Patriots to three Super Bowl victories in four years. Despite being listed (along with Pittsburgh, PA) as the most livable city in the US in 2005 (see the second to last paragraph in this article.

Cleveland: Hurricane Free Throughout Our History
Cleveland: Livable and Landslide Free

Now, these may not be the best marketing slogans, but then, I’m no expert in marketing. I leave the real catchy slogans to those who know what they’re doing (I freely admit I don’t know everything). But here’s the thing. Cleveland’s a great city, and yet people come here because they grew up here, or because their spouse dragged them here. People living here a while grow to love it, and get spoiled by the shorter commutes or the cheaper ticket prices to go to shows, or the sports, or, most often, the people.

Yes, I said the sports. Now, I’m not just saying this because the Cavs are in the playoffs. I admit, having grown up in Cleveland, I’m a little (okay, a lot) biased, but Cleveland is a great sports town. Never having won a championship in any major sport (and I’m sorry to all you soccer fans out there, but even in its heyday back – I believe sometime in the eighties – major league soccer never qualified as a major sport; don’t get me wrong, I went to several games, and loved cheering on the Force as we won, but I also grew up watching my brother play his little league soccer games), we Clevelanders are, I would argue, truer sports fans than anyone else.

Never having achieved the ultimate goal in any sport – as of yet – we still have hope. We still believe our teams have what it takes to be champions. And in the meantime, we relish each victory. Like proud parents, we see the good in the closest loss or even the blowout. If our teams comes so close and loses by just a few points, we hold our heads high, absorbing the loss and telling ourselves – with all honesty – that is was a great game and next time, yeah, next time, we’ll win it. If we lose by a lot, well, we’re rebuilding. It builds character. Did you see that one play? That guy’s reception or block or free throw or dive in the outfield showed great potential; this guy’s gonna be big in a couple of years. Just you wait. Did you see that great catch by the shortstop? Did you notice how the running back juked the defender? That was sweet.

We Cleveland fans notice all aspects of our sports, including the officiating and the environment. We play football outside, in the winter, in our domeless stadium next to the lake. Real football, like it ought to be. Okay, admittedly, I haven’t attended a game there in several years, but, well, you know, someone’s gotta take care of the kids. We know the odds are in our favor when a warm-weather team comes into a slushy, snowy December game. And Cleveland fans will be there, bundled up, physically and mentally suffering, and cheering on our teams, packing the stadiums and Arena, vowing to be there to witness all those defining moments that lead us to that unachievable pinnacle of joy.

Honestly, though, I don’t know what we’d do if we won. The closest we came was when the OSU Buckeyes won the 2002 national championship in college football. My husband went to OSU for eight years, so it was definitely a huge victory for us. I say it’s close because it’s not really a Cleveland team. Many Clevelanders are actually Michigan fans (grrrr), and it’s not quite the same. But my point here is that after we won, for a long time, we were still waiting for the bad news. We are so used to that last second reversal of fortune, of balls going through the second baseman’s legs and letting a late inning run score, or a last second kick just making it through the corner of the uprights. The Drive, the Fumble, Red Right Eighty-Eight: these are words that long time Browns fans know and will never forget, memories just as strong as their first kiss, their wedding day, the birth of their children. They most likely remember where they were when they witnessed these events, and they remember the tears of disappointment hastily covered up as “something in their eyes.”

Perseverance is a trait common among Cleveland sports fans. Those who turn their back on any church still show how strong faith can be, continuing to believe, despite a complete lack of proof, that we can be victorious, that we will get to the promised land. The draft is such a huge event here (I honestly don’t know what it’s like in other cities); the papers list the prospects, and my husband, who had to be out of town for a few days before the draft, had me save the sports pages while he was gone so he could be prepared for Draft Day. I don’t get it; it’s more boring than golf, and it’s literally a show where nothing happens for a really, really, really, really, really, really long time. I understand, conceptually, that the draft is important, and that the future direction of many teams is decided during the course of the weekend, but I don’t understand it as a televised event. It’s negotiating, and meetings, and a lot of behind the scenes decision-making that makes for extremely dull viewing, and yet people watch. It reminds me of an old Monty Python skit where people come to a stadium to watch a guy write a novel.
In it, a guy walks up to his desk and the commentators provide statistics about how many novels of his began with the word “The”, versus “A”, or other articles. I can imagine you yawning already. But I see it as strangely appropriate whenever I think about watching the NFL Draft.

But anyhow, I digress. In Cleveland, we like our sports teams so much, we watch the draft (okay, I don’t, but many do). We are a city full of humble, appreciative, faithful fans. Now that’s character. Cleveland is a great place to raise your kids if you want them to learn that winning isn’t everything. And though many may move away at different times in their lives, no matter where you go or how long you’re gone, a part of you knows that you’re still a Clevelander at heart.