I know you guys have heard about it. If you’re from Cleveland [as am I], shame on you if you haven’t. All I can say is: Don’t mess with Cleveland sports teams. I don’t know how many times I have to make this clear. Honestly. We’re psychotic about it. We have a problem. Our emotions, city curses and strange psychosis have been clinically diagnosed and published, people!

In defense of the incident, a General Manager of one of the Papa John’s chains had this to say:

Cleveland Sports Fan // May 3, 2008 at 1:01 pm

I’m a general manager for a Papa John’s Pizza about 40 minutes away from Cleveland. There are different privately owned franchises around the country as well as directly “corporate” owned stores. Unfortunately because we are all “Papa John’s,” things like this can affect all of us. Ultimately, what happened was that whatever franchise owns the stores in the D.C. thought it was a good idea to help promote their team, not thinking of the effect it would have on other areas, especially the Northeast Ohio markets. I can assure you that we had no idea of this “marketing idea” and were just as shocked as everyone else when we saw it on TV. Yes, we have received calls of people wanting to boycott us, but hopefully something will come out ASAP from Corporate as a nationwide apology / explination so that Ohio or other stores nationwide aren’t adversely affected! [Source: So Good]

Personally, I plan on eating a sausage pizza from my good friends at Papa John’s on Thursday night. But that’s just me. And this has gone on long enough. Let’s eat our pizza and hush. There are still more games to the playoffs.

In hearing the back and forth between the long gone Washington Wizards, walking wounded and obviously bitter, and the City of Cleveland - mind you, the CAVS haven’t opened their mouths in all this brouhahas - it got me thinking about how much sore losers complain. I am not name calling. This is merely a generalization. In general, no one likes a winner. To see someone succeed, however they accomplished it, leaves the one who lost defeated. Vengeful.

When I think about my city and the many sports-related enemies we have, it also makes me realize how much I want to see them fail even if they aren’t going up against us. Right now, the Detroit Pistons and San Antonio Spurs, in two separate playoff contingencies, are not playing The Cleveland Cavaliers. Yet I want them, with all my heart and soul, to lose. Badly. I despise them… as a team. Why? Did you see what they did to us last season? Yes, we beat Detroit, but it was a fight. A trash talking, slow, agonizing fight. We won’t even talk about what happened with San Antonio.

If you sit down and really look at your life, suppose you’re not happy with where you want to be. One day, you receive an invitation to your ten-fifteen-twenty year high school reunion. You want to go, sure. Because you want to see what became of the homecoming queen. The head cheerleader. The jock. You don’t want to know how well they’re doing. You want to know who’s on drugs? Who got fat? Who got married? Who got divorced? Who’s still ugly? And what’s it all for? Do you receive satisfaction in tearing others down to make yourself look better? This illusion you created, this “I’m better than everyone else” mentality, can it hold water? Of course it can’t. But crying foul for losing and ripping out the insides of the winner is about instant gratification. Not long term results.

Over the past five years of my life, I’ve been through a lot. Who hasn’t? But the person I was five years ago and the bitter, resentful, acid spewing person I am today leaves me empty. Instead of the venom I thought I was shooting, it now feels of dry sand. Cleveland fans embody this same venom - season in, season out. Yet winners laugh at us. Not because of what we’re saying. But because no matter what we say, we’re still losers. When given the golden opportunity to go for the grand prize, we always come up short.

I want, in this time of reflection, to know that, if ever given the opportunity to seize my grand prize, that I’m not full of so much acid, venom or dry sand that it fills me to my eyeballs and blinds me to the bigger picture. Cleveland’s bigger picture is: We’ve never won a Finals of any sport in over 40 years. 40 YEARS! My bigger picture is: no matter how bad I want to tear someone down, I’m still not doing anything worth mentioning with my life.

As my grandfather always told me: Actions speak louder than words.