Mo money, Mo problems

In the never-ending quest to find LeBron James some assistance (seriously, this has been going on for five years), reports are now surfacing that the Cavs are close to swinging a three-way deal for Bucks point guard Mo Williams. The deal would also send veteran Joe Smith and his expiring contract to Oklahoma City, and Luke Ridnour to Milwaukee to fill the void left by Williams.

The Cavs need a point guard who can set the table and a reliable No. 2 scorer. Williams is a good shooter who averaged 17.2 points and 6.3 assists last year, and he can hit free throws. His breakneck pacing will lead to turnovers, but it also will help the Cavs push the tempo, something we've wanted to do for awhile. Williams isn't a great defender, but players have a habit of becoming better defenders under Mike Brown.

This deal makes a lot of sense. We get an athletic 25-year-old who fills several needs and has tons of starting experience in the Central Divison. All we're giving up is Smith, who admittedly proved valuable in the postseason but has his best years behind him.

So why isn't Williams wearing wine and gold at this very moment?


No, Williams isn't demanding more of it. No, Milwaukee and Oklahoma City aren't worried about it. In fact, they're both ready to pull the trigger.

The team holding up this excellent deal for the Cavs...is the CAVS.

General Manager Danny Ferry and co. reportedly don't want to take on Williams' contract, which has five years and $43 million remaining on it. If you think about it, Ferry's opposition makes perfect sense. He's not known for overpaying players.

Except this one.


And this one.


I think that's everybody.


Whoops, maybe not.


Surely that must be it.


Guess not.





The Cavs are due to have the second-highest payroll in the league this year, about $8 million short of the Knicks (I'll take "Embarrassing Facts" for 200, Alex!). However, we'd already be trading Smith's $4.8 million salary, and we're shopping the $2.7 million potentially owed to restricted free agent Delonte West.

If Ferry's worried about pushing the payroll too high, he must be really short-sighted, because if we don't dump all the awful-but-expiring contracts we have at the trade deadline this year, we might as well kiss LeBron goodbye. Team owner and billionaire Dan Gilbert has already said he'll pay whatever luxury tax penalties we incur. We still need to add pieces to the team, and Williams would be a big one.

I know that's a lot of financial mumbo-jumbo, so let me put it simply: There's NO REASON to NOT do this deal PRONTO.

Or, let me put it in timely terms:

LeBron James is in China working his ass off to help the United States Olympic team, just like he does for the Cavaliers. It would be a shame if he comes back and finds the team didn't do the same for him.

Your move, Ferry.

This Makes a lot of Sense

I played golf yesterday. Shot a 96 in the morning. It was my worst round of the year. A friend convinced me to play again in the afternoon at the same course. I shot 1 under on the front 9 and was 1 over for the round through 14 holes when we had to stop because of the weather. The moral of the story is, don't smoke crack.




Now, please bow in honor of DJMJ, putting this site on his shoulders over the last few weeks a la LeBron.

Never mind the Cleveland Browns, here's the bollocks

"The Browns are downright stable. We're making headlines for the right reasons. It's as refreshing as it is strange."

- posted by me yesterday night

"Browns wideout Braylon Edwards was running a sprint in his socks when fellow receiver Donte' Stallworth stepped on the back of his foot and opened a cut that required stitches and a night in the hospital."

- posted by the AP 18 hours later

Thank you, Donte' Stepworth and Big-Play Brainless, for restoring order to the NFL preseason and giving people a reason to point and laugh at us.

Apparently, the receivers were sprinting against each other after practice Saturday, and Edwards won. In traditional Browns tongue, that roughly translates to "Stallworth got jealous so he cleated Edwards' heel."

"You saw what Stallworth did! Go for his feet!"

Romeo Crennel wouldn't say when Edwards would return to practice, and the hospital wouldn't reveal how many stitches he needed.

However you slice it, this has to be one of the reasons we signed Stallworth to a seven-year, $35 million deal. What good are receptions, touchdowns and versatility in a No. 2 receiver without the ability to injure teammates?

Y'know, kid, I can gash your hand for a more permanent autograph

Derek Anderson, your sex scandal with Playmate of the Year and fellow Scappoosian Sara Jean Underwood is on the clock.

Never mind the bollocks, here's the Cleveland Browns

Something feels really weird about the build-up to the 2008 NFL season. It's aloof, it's awkward, it's noticeably unfamiliar. There's something missing, as if the regular season is a teacher waiting for the last kid to leave the jungle gym at recess before class resumes.

Thursday's preseason opener was a perfect example. Green Bay of Pigs was over, and Brett Favre joined his new teammates in Cleveland a couple hours before the Jets played the Browns. The circus was in full swing, with national publications optioning Northeast Ohio content to supplement their coverage and SportsCenter cutting to live shots of the media room at Cleveland Browns Stadium, where Favre would speak publicly. It was resoundingly clear that the Browns were not the story that night.

That's OK. They haven't been the story at all lately.

The grace period following our 1999 return ended in 2002 when Butch Davis took the boys to the playoffs. From then on, there was no more room for Chris Palmer-isms like "growing process." Soon enough, Butch proved to be as good at identifying NFL talent as Travis Henry is at failing paternity tests, and he resigned accordingly.

When "rookie mistakes" become "franchise flesh wounds"

The first two and a half years with Romeo Crennel were similarly volatile. LeCharles Bentley couldn't stay healthy, Kellen Winslow couldn't grow up, John Collins couldn't get along with Phil Savage, and most importantly, the team couldn't win.

That all changed in 2007, when Romeo and the gang pulled 10 wins out of a hat and restored excitement to Browns football. After two savvy offseason trades landed two legit defensive linemen, we inked a lightning-fast receiver and dove headfirst into trade talks for a certain disgruntled cornerback. Regardless of what you think about that last item...

(Seriously, just mail us the AFC North title right now)

...we were making headlines for the right reasons.

Which is weird.

Aren't we the assclowns that have to flip a coin to decide our starting quarterback? Don't we pick first-rounders like Larry King picks wives? Where's the bollocks?


Never mind the bollocks, here's the Cleveland Browns.

I swiped that sentence from the Sex Pistols' only studio album, because my brain has inexplicably provided me with a comparison and a contrast between the band and the Browns' offseason.

The Sex Pistols were the ones who really lit the punk movement on fire. While the Ramones were wearing raggy clothes and chilling out, the Sex Pistols were wearing shirts that said "I Hate Pink Floyd" and calling for anarchy in England. They weren't about the glamorous side of rock. The Sex Pistols were a voice for the underprivileged, the blue-collar Brits who had grown tired of David Bowie's androgynous antics.

The Browns have been the same way all offseason. People want to ask Romeo Crennel about the team's lofty expectations, and all they'll get is a reminder that the Browns didn't make the playoffs last season. If you ask Derek Anderson how pretty the offense is going to be in 2008, he'll tell you it doesn't matter as long it's effective. Kamerion Wimbley won't buy into the hype of an "improved" defense, not until he sees results on the field.

If you look across the division, the Steelers are crossing their fingers about Big Snack's fitness, scrambling to plug holes on the o-line, grimacing over Charlie Batch's injury and lecturing Anthony Smith on his practice tactics. The Ravens are still searching for a quarterback, addressing age on defense and adjusting to John Harbaugh's concentraining camp. The Bengals just got done bickering with another high draft pick and dealing with Chad Johnson's sideshow.

Compared to all that, the Browns are downright stable. Winslow and God-like special teamer Josh Cribbs refuse to let their contract situations be detrimental. Brady Quinn knows the quarterback job isn't his, but spends as much time working as anyone. Cornerbacks Eric Wright and Brandon McDonald fully acknowledge they're the team's weakest link. Defensive tackle Corey Williams barely even speaks to the media.

These Browns don't buy into the bullshit.

You know, bullshit like Sid Vicious, who joined the Sex Pistols in early 1977 with the exact attitude of the band and zero skill on bass guitar. He was there for image purposes only, and his self-destructive tendencies contributed heavily to the premature downfall of the group.

All I'm saying is I've never seen Sid Vicious and Albert Belle in the same place at the same time

There are no Sid Vicious players among these Browns. Nobody's pulling a paycheck to flaunt the uniform. Nobody's strutting around and bringing us down. Everybody's here for a reason, and everyone has a specific job to do.

That's the mindset the Browns have taken. Punchlines for so long, the Browns have now become the cool kids' Super Bowl pick. Those expectations might be overly ambitious, but you know what? Champions start with the work, accountability and perspective these Browns have had in the offseason.

Honestly, it's as refreshing as it is strange. I'm waiting for Joe Thomas to capsize his fishing boat or Sean Jones to slam a bottle into someone's head at the Velvet Tango Room. It doesn't look like it's going to happen, though, which means we could be in for a fun year.

And the past bollocks? Psh, forget it.

Moon blighting

Reporters gather in the press room at Quicken Loans Arena, chattering away. LeBron's agent, Maverick Carter, takes the podium and attempts to quiet them down.

Carter: Quiet please, quiet please.

Chatter continues.

Carter: Quiet please!

Chatter still continues.

Carter: HOLY SHIT THE CAVS SIGNED BRETT FAVRE

Everybody shuts up and pays attention.

Carter: LeBron is here today to clear up the confusion about LeBron's future. You in the media have been speculating for some time that LeBron will sign with a New York team in the summer of 2010, when LeBron is eligible for free agency. As of yesterday, you reported that LeBron said LeBron would play for a European team for a salary of $50 million a year. Actually, you misheard LeBron. LeBron's already verbally agreed to sign with another team, and to give you the full details and answer a few of your questions, here's LeBron himself. LeBron!

Carter exits stage right. Lights go down in the room.











ALLOW ME TO RE-IN-TRO-DUCE MY-SELF
MY NAME IS
HOV
H TO THE O-V
I USED TO MOVE SNOW-FLAKES BY THE O-Z
I GUESS EVEN BACK THEN YOU CAN CALL ME
C-E-O OF THE R-O-C
HOV



All the reporters start talking at once, trying to lob their questions. Patrick McManamon of the Akron Beacon-Journal is the first to be heard clearly.

McManamon: LeBron, what have you decided to do?

LeBron: I've decided to play two more seasons with the Cavaliers, then opt out of my contract.

McManamon: Where will you go?

LeBron: Well, I tried to make my, uh, intentions known yesterday, but I'll make them clear right now. In the summer of 2010, I plan on signing with the Europa Urinators.

McManamon: Who?

LeBron: You know, Europa. The moon of Jupiter. They got a good team right now that's in search of a leader. That's what I meant to say yesterday, I'm open to signing with a Europan team, not a European team.

McManamon: Is there life on Europa?

LeBron: Yeah. They got an algae with a great post-up game, a trilobite who runs the point and some solid fungus off the bench.

Mary Schmitt Boyer of the Cleveland Plain Dealer jumps in.

Boyer: What other destinations had you considered?

LeBron: Well, I got offers from pretty much every moon in the solar system. The Phobos Friars put together a good offer, and so did the Oberon Obie Trices. The Enceladus Cavaliers offered me $40 million a year, pitching the name recognition. I even got a non-money sheet from the Ganymede Gunga-galungas, who wanted to pay me in total consciousness. Yeah, they weren't real happy when I agreed to sign with their Jovian rivals.

ESPN's Stephen A. Smith joins the conversation.

Smith: AH'M Stephen A. SMITH.

LeBron: That's not a question.

Smith: AH JUST WAN-TED YOU TA KNOW.

LeBron: .....

Smith: Haw do ya feel about BLACK POWAH


Smith: JUST checkin'.

LeBron: Don't ever talk to me again.

Bob Finnan of The Lake County News-Herald joins the fray.

Finnan: LeBron, why did you decide to leave the Cavaliers?

LeBron: Well, I feel that by the time I leave, I'll have given the franchise seven years of everything I have. That's all I ask of myself, and that's all they can ask of me.

Finnan: Was it any specific move the Cavs made, or didn't make?

LeBron: I mean, you look at certain trades that were made, certain signings that were made. I just go out there, play hard, sacrifice and trust my teammates.

Finnan: And you can trust primordial organisms more than your current teammates?

LeBron: I don't know, but they gotta be better shooters than Larry Hughes.

McManamon jumps back in.

McManamon: LeBron, you've always said you wanted to be a "global icon." Clearly, this is a step up.

LeBron: Absolutely, it is. I think of myself as the first truly universal superstar. I want to soak the universe with my aura, you know, saturate them with my image. I want to douse them with my skills, and I can do that as a Urinator.

ESPN NBA insider and former Cavs beat writer Chris Broussard speaks up.

Broussard: How do you think the fans in Cleveland will respond?

LeBron: It's kinda like The Tonight Show. Jay Leno said a couple years back that he was leaving in 2009, and letting Conan O'Brien take over. I'm leaving in a couple years, and letting Tarence Kinsey take over.

The whole rooms laughs.

LeBron: Haha. No seriously, why the fuck did we sign him?

Broussard: What does this mean in terms of your participation in the Intergalactic Games? Will you still play for Team Earth?

LeBron: I'm gonna play for Team USA through the Olympics, then focus on winning a title in Cleveland. After that, my focus will shift to winning with the Urinators, but I'll still play for Team Earth. I'll always be a Earthling.

Broussard: What championship does Europa play for?


Broussard: Huh?

LeBron: Stop thinking about this reasonably.

Momentary silence, broken by an unidentified reporter wearing sunglasses and a hippie wig.

Reporter: LeBron, do you think that zero gravity will help your AWFUL jump-shot?

LeBron: Excuse me?

Reporter: You are the GREATEST driver of the basketball we have EVER seen.

LeBron: And?

Reporter: You NEED to improve your outside shot, PRINCE James!

LeBron: Who are you?

The reporter rips off his wig and sunglasses...



LeBron: Skip Bayless! Man, you trippin'.

Skip: Why? Because I speak the TRUTH about you, PRINCE James?!

LeBron: You don't speak nothin' but controversy. Get him out of here.

Security moves on the increasingly belligerent Bayless.

Skip: You can't fool us all, PRINCE James! I'm here to expose the TRUTH about YOU!

Bayless keeps screaming as security drags him out. A horde of Cavs fans beats him with free posters from Sasha Pavlovic Night.

Skip: LeBron James is overrated! T.O. stands for Team Obliterator! Tiger Woods is the greatest frontrunner in history! AARON RODGERS DOESN'T DESERVE OUR SYMPATHYYYYYYYYY...

Carter rushes back out to the podium and nudges LeBron toward the lockerroom.

Carter: Um, given the volatile nature of this announcement, LeBron has decided to end LeBron's press conference. LeBron will make further comments on LeBron's situation at a later date. Thank you. LeBron.

The reporters start yammering last-ditch questions. Lights go down, and an image is projected onto the wall behind the podium.

Cleveland clip-up 2008

Football season is way too much fun. You can't even put it into words. Not because it's indescribable, but because it would take too long to list all the reasons why.

It would also take too long to list every reason I should've stopped watching football and supporting the Browns over the years, but here are some.

1) 0-3 vs. Pittsburgh in 1994

Still my favorite Browns team ever. Hot diggity damn those games pissed me off.

2) Move to Baltimore after the 1995 season

This killed me. It tore away my absolute favorite sports team and pushed me toward Brett Favre and the Packers for awhile.

3) Tim Couch

Hey, we're the ones who used the top pick on a football player from a basketball school.

4) Super Bowl XXXV

The franchise wins the Super Bowl five seasons after leaving? And Fart Blowhell gets the Lombardi Trophy? Weak, dude. Seriously, weak.

5) The Butch Davis era

Hollywood had Michael Cimino and Heaven's Gate, the NFL had Botch Davis and the Browns.

The only thing greater than his passion for America...was his passion for giving Cleveland the clap

6) 0-3 vs. Pittsburgh in 2002

What a fucking shitting cocking ballsing thing to re-live.

7) Kellen's keen judgment

Broken fibulas and motorcycle crashes go great with NFL contracts.

8) Bill Belichick wins three Super Bowls

Our last coach before Shart Hotel moved the team, he suddenly became the greatest playoff coach ever. And his only playoff victory in Cleveland...was against New England.

9) Pittsburgh wins a Super Bowl

My hilarious parody -- "Pitts-burgh chokes be-fore the Suuu-per Bowl, Steel-ers blow" -- ceases to be appropriate.

10) Steelers 27, Browns 7, 12/7/2006

A terrible culmination of recent struggles that I first shared with FLS at a sports bar and later shared with Brother Love crushing 40s. I repeatedly described my team as "a bad joke, only I'm not laughing."

Might as well have been me

11) Derek Anderson's pick party

Two days before Christmas, DA doled out four footballs to his guests in Cincinnati. Zai jain, 2007 postseason!

I could include Red Right 88, the Drive and the Fumble, but I'd rather stick to stuff I've experienced personally. I could also include the pain of watching Tennessee beat Indianapolis to clinch the final playoff spot last season, but despite its setbacks, 2007 was a gift from God.

Out of nowhere, we had a dynamic, highly skilled offense and an exceptional special teams unit that counteracted our dreadful defense. We won 10 games, something we hadn't done since 1994, and games in November and December actually meant something more than seeing which teams would gain ground in the playoff race by beating us.

Most importantly (and most selfishly), I had fun watching the Browns. Boy, did I ever have fun watching the Browns. I cheered with what-the-hell excitement when we hung 51 points on the Bengals. I blasted Naughty By Nature's "Jamboree" in celebration of Jamal Lewis' four-touchdown game against Seattle. I cheered with more what-the-hell excitement when Phil Dawson snuck that field goal between the uprights to force overtime in Baltimore. I fist-pumped the shit out of my apartment when we went ahead 27-10 in a key game against Houston. I celebrated uncontrollably when we blanked Buffalo in the snow to seize control of our playoff destiny.

Last season had another signature moment, perhaps more important than the rest, and it came, surprisingly enough, during Week 1's debacle against the Steelers. Already losing 24-0 at home, Lawrence Vickers scored our first touchdown in the third quarter and started doing some big floppy donkey dance. Of all the people to recognize the stupidity of such an action, Kellen Winslow Jr. was the one who ran over and angrily told him to knock it off. You know, the Kellen Winslow Jr. who claimed to be a bleepin' soldier at Miami and had a temper hotter than Carrie Underwood.

Gaaaah, what was I talking about?

From that moment, it was clear that this was a different Browns team. It wasn't clear that we were about to win 10 of our last 15 games, or that several units would become so potent, or that we would vault into a trendy Super Bowl pick with one solid offseason.

But the attitude was definitely different.

And that brings me to my main point. To everyone, from the rest of the NFL to Francois Leroux Speedskater and the rest of the Steeler fans I pretend to like, I serve this statement:

Clip up.

We've got an incredible offense that added speed freak Donte' Stallworth, a defense that slimmed down one phase to potentially fix everything, and arguably the strongest special teams unit in the league.

No fancy little guarantees, no cute little predictions, just clip up. Top to bottom, we have the most talented roster in the AFC North. Which doesn't mean we'll win jack shit. But it does mean I'm as excited for this season as I've ever been for any sports season.

And to FLS specifically, I have two rules for our inevitable Browns-Steelers hate-slinging:

1) No personal attacks.

Everything else in the world is a target, but you yourself are not.

2) No pre-emptive picture striking.

I know you've got a humorous photo of Brady Quinn up your sleeve, and I'm sure there's more where that came from. But I won't use any anti-Browns pictures in pro-Browns posts just to steal your thunder. Seriously, that's lame.

Ben's fiance...they haven't set a date

Let the season begin.

Your Weekend Harry Caray Post

The Cubs are in first place, so let's throw them (and Mike Wolf) a fucking bone and pay tribute to one of the greatest to ever squint through coke bottle glasses. Your impersonator is Dan St. Paul, and I do believe that his version is far better than that of Mr. Ferrell.



Enjoy your weekend everyone.