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Holy mother of flying beer bottle, it might take two full Coolers to get through this whole Cleveland Browns fan thing.
|  | | Cleveland ranks high on the short list of cities in which you could possibly see a fans' riot. |
In fact -- hey, duck! -- there went a flying Cooler full of beer right now. No doubt thrown by that thyroid case Big Dawg, whom I spent many a column mocking in the past couple of years. Who else could shot put a 60-pound Cooler full of lager? I mean, besides that Samoan male BYU cheerleader from last week's List of Five?
I don't know whether to laugh or to cry -- but I'm leaning heavily toward the former.
Excuse me. Sorry to go Sept. 12 on you Cooler readers, but isn't our nation supposed to be coming together?
In the name of Lou Groza, duck again! There went another Cooler full of an amber liquid ... oh, man, don't tell me the Dog Pound passed the Cooler around the men's room before heaving it! So gnarly. As they might say in the Italian part of town: Animale!
Man, these Cleveland fans are nuts. It's a good thing they've got Carmen ("No, Senator, We Do Not Believe There Is Such a Thing as Organized Crime") Policy
as their de facto lawyer in front of the nation's courthouse of public opinion.
The main reason this guy is wearing Armani for Al Lerner right now is his golden tongue, and an ability to spin that could earn him a tryout for the Harlem Globetrotters. Carmen says Cleveland doesn't deserve a "black eye" for showering the field with debris. At least that's what I think he said. I was too hypnotized by the golden glow off his Rolex to remember exactly.
What do you expect from Carmine? If this guy got into a three-card monte showdown with Johnnie Cochran, Cochran would be wearing a barrel on a
Cleveland street corner with a cardboard sign reading: "Will Rhyme for Food."
Let's get to the real sociological issue. Bottom line: How many towns in America go Soccer Fan on us?
I'm thinking the list is three deep.
You've got Cleveland, which uprooted chairs and lit fires back in '95 when the Browns announced they were leaving, then pulled off its Paris-by-the-Lake act yesterday.
|  | | Carmen Policy had the gall to say that Cleveland doesn't deserve a "black eye." |
You've got Boston, which beneath its John Updike tweed and Doris Kearns Goodwin earnestness, is, basically, Cleveland with foliage. (Don't argue,
Beantowners. I was there at Game 4 of the '99 ALCS after the whole Tim Tschida-Dale Scott thing. You went Cleveland before Cleveland went Cleveland.
In fact, SNL cover boy himself Derek Jeter was quoted after that game on Fenway-ites as saying: "They're animals, man.")
And then there's Philly, which gets in on general principle.
Of course, the dirty little secret in all this is ... the Browns fans were right. They should have been ticked off. The zebras gagged the call, straight-up. The rules say you can't review a call after another play, the Browns played by the rules and the Browns got jobbed.
To me, it's just another example of how Instant Replay is the worst thing in society since girls at the office started getting Temporary Restraining Orders. (Especially when you're just trying to deliver a collage of your life to her door on Valentine's Day in the middle of the night. I mean, whatever happened to true love?)
Uh, where was I?
Never mind.
Anyway, the next Senate bill must abolish Instant Replay. Who wants to relive everything? Life's too depressing to warrant a second look. After Murph's
awkward lunge at the hot chick in the tavern, the lunge will come under review.
I mean, who wants that? Then you'd have to wait while they review it, and have the guy come back and announce to the bar: After reviewing the lunge,
the ruling at the tavern stands: Murph has no chance.
And I'd hate to think how The Cooler would stand up under replay rules. After reviewing that last joke, the ruling at the editor's desk stands: Murph will be losing his column as of Jan. 1. I play by the Browns rules. I write a bad gag, then try to get off another one before the Review Committee can flag it.
In fact, taking a look back at some of the gags in this intro, I'd better go straight to the List of Five, before anybody wants to review:
1. Bill Gramatica: I can't write anything as funny as that
|  | | We hate to laugh at injuries ... but Bill Gramatica's gaffe was one of the funniest moments of the year. |
As sight gags go, Gramatica leaping to celebrate, then clutching his knee in pain ranks, baby. I mean, it seriously ranks. It's right up there with that
forgotten moment in Woody Allen's "Crimes and Misdemeanors," when a bit player is doing that squat-down, folded-arms, traditional Russian dance, then
jerks out of it instantly with the severely pulled hammy.
It ranks up there with that game last summer when A's manager Art Howe charged out of the dugout to argue a call at home plate and -- three steps in
-- pulled up immediately with the yanked ham. God bless Artie: He limped his way out and argued the call anyway. "Sniper got me," he joked later.
I don't know what else to say, other than: Life gives you moments of high comedy. It is your duty to appreciate said moments. Dudes trying to do
something dramatic and noteworthy, then pulling up lame with shredded hammys count as those moments.
Please appreciate the living bejesus out of Bill Gramatica's leaping knee sprain. It's an indelible holiday moment right up there with Jimmy Stewart running through town and screaming, "Merry Christmas, you old building and loan!"
2. George O'Leary: So Much for that whole "Tribe" thing
So last week I'm going all Irish-American on you (and let the record show, my mother is 100 percent Italian) and bragging about O'Leary and Notre Dame and
all that Guinness on St. Patrick's Day stuff. Hey, it was a cheap item.
|  | | The Murph is no longer crowing over the George O'Leary era in South Bend. |
Then my boy Adrian Wojnarowski gets all serious on me -- Woj can do that -- and writes an indisputable column full of gravitas about O'Leary's dark side on this very web page.
Then O'Leary's resumé gets held up against the light bulb.
Hey, nobody said we Irish-Americans were an entirely honorable lot. Didn't Joe Kennedy make his mark bootlegging booze during Prohibition? Quick aside
to ND administration: Feel free to go outside The Tribe for your next hire. I do believe Gruden is a German name, in case you were wondering.
3. A brief side note about "Immediate Pre-Kickoff Interviews"
I saw John Lynch give one just before kickoff of the Bears-Bucs game. Great. Now a word of advice to all networks: Stop. Please. Now.
No player and no coach in NFL history has said anything to a sideline "reporter" ever worth remembering. Ever. Not Mike Shanahan just before a Monday night kickoff at Mile High. Not Jon Gruden just before his face explodes at the Coliseum. Not even Wayne Fontes back in the day, man!
See, I remember a 49ers-Lions Monday night game in '95. Kickoff was about ready. The Silverdome was rocking. And we ... waited. And waited. Then I saw
it. On the sideline. Wayne Fontes was giving what I believe was the first "Immediate Pre-Kickoff Interview" (IPKI) in modern football history. And we had
to hold the game for 30 seconds!
What did he say? Huh? What? I dare you to find that transcript. I dare you to research every freaking transcript available and find something
noteworthy out of an IPKI.
Here's a hint: Don't look in the same files that hold Lincoln, Churchill or Pat Paulson from any of his Presidential bids. Those guys at least got a few lines off.
4. All hail the King of New York
|  | | It didn't take Jason Giambi long to establish himself as the new King of New York. |
Perfect timing that Rudy Giuliani is stepping aside. His successor hath been found -- and his name ain't Bloomberg.
Gothamites, let me warn you: You will love Jason Giambi. You will eat out of his hand. You will worship him from afar -- that is, until you are raging in
some Village bar and look up to see Giambi next to you, buying rounds for the house.
Pass the hat and buy the guy a fur coat: The successor to the Babe's partying ghost has arrived. You heard it here, but not first -- Giambi already took
care of that by spending his first day as a Yankee in a) City Hall, b) on Regis Philbin, and c) doing the Top 10 list on Letterman.
This guy rules.
5. A final word of goodwill
Big Dawg? I was just sorta kidding about the thyroid thing. Don't head West to kick my butt or sit on me or anything.
Remember: I've got Carmen's phone number!
Brian Murphy of the San Francisco Chronicle writes the "Weekend Water Cooler" every week for Page 2.
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