That is the score for the last 45 years of Cleveland’s three major sports. I know that the Cavs didn’t start until around 1970, so that score may be off by about 8 or so, but really, what does it matter?
It was a bit surreal to see my neighbor standing over Cleveland this time, repeatedly saying “Amen” to the trophy presenter, just to remind us that God was the driving force behind his victory. I almost expected Dwight Howard, after giving obligatory thanks to God, to say “No, seriously, this victory tonight was God’s will, just as it has been for the past double-my-age years in Cleveland.”
The only bright spot here is that if the Magic defeat the Lakers, I will petition my neighbor to commemorate his championship by funding the Dwight Howard Chair of New Testament Theology. This professorship will be appropriately filled by Gary Meadors, who like Howard, is capable of a great performance when he stays out of foul trouble. Last year I was forced to teach a Greek class when Gary picked up his seventh technical. He is the Rasheed Wallace of NT profs.
As much as it will destroy the Cavs and the entire region should LeBron leave for New York, I think that it is only right for us to let him go. He gave us his best, and in any other city that would have been good enough to bring home a championship. But this is no ordinary town. Something larger than sports is at work here. LeBron is one of us, so he probably understands that nothing he can do will break the curse. It will take him down and tarnish his career (see Bernie Kosar).
But because LeBron is too proud to admit it, we need an intervention. Confront him with the brutal truth and then release him, with our blessing, to go win for us in some other place (see Ben Rothlisberger). Save yourself, LeBron, we’ll muddle through with a resurgent Youngstown.
Cleveland will never win. But a Clevelander, he just might.