DUDE WHAT THE FUCK? Does K-Love not know that the beard life is the only life? What an idiot! Dude just went from the hottest guy in Cleveland to some schmucky 25 year old entry-level Warehouse District bro who balls at the YMCA in his free time…GOD this is tragic, I’m gonna need a minute.
We are heartbroken to report that Stuart Scott has died after a long fight with cancer. He was 49. pic.twitter.com/aI0TGwFqGU
— SportsCenter (@SportsCenter) January 4, 2015
Out of everyone at ESPN, Stuart Scott was the most memorable since the very beginning of my love for sports. “Boo yah!” “Cool as the other side of the pillow,” among many other catchphrases that woke me up while eating my cereal before school, or put me to sleep at night. Stuart Scott was one of those people who had an undying love for sports who wanted to share that love and give everyone an opportunity to feel that way about games. Now, my parents are huge Cleveland fans, and I can thank them for my “Cleveland fan syndrome,” but outside of that? This guy right here. He made simple sports highlights exciting. He made a kid like me understand the games, understand the importance of certain plays and made me someone who can sit down and watch a random football game when the Browns or Buckeyes aren’t in it. Hell, he’s probably the reason I love watching soccer now too. Not because of his coverage of it, but the way he instilled this love for sports in all of us in our formidable years that made ESPN the juggernaut that it is today, and true sports fans out of all of us. There won’t be another who could fill those kicks, and I don’t think I would want there to be. Stu Scott was one of a kind, and it’s a real kick in the balls that cancer took him from his girls and family at such an early age.
He told us that even if you die, that’s not “losing” to cancer. That it’s about how you live, and living that life with purpose is how you beat cancer. Stu didn’t just beat cancer. He demolished it.
Rest in peace, Stuart Scott.
As I drew my head and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes we all covered in ashes and soot.
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled the LBJ’s then turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his K900, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
‘Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!’
I awoke the next morning, none to my surprise,
A room full of a presents of each and every size.
The joy in my face, as I ran down the stairs,
Much like Rick Ross and his love affair with pears.
I reached for the box with my name on the top,
“A ‘Brohio’ shirt? Floor seats for the Cavs?” I excitedly thought,
But when I opened it up, I was very shocked to find,
A Connor Shaw jersey, I about lost my mind.
The package came with tissues to dry my dreadful tears,
And a note signed from Santa saying, “Maybe next year!”
Have a Merry Christmas, you savages. Pumped to get away from work for a few days, spend some time with family and drink until the pain of debt and holiday gifts goes away. It’s the mooooost wonderful tiiiiiiime of the yeeeeeear!
(Source – CLEVELAND, Ohio — It was an innocent, brisk December afternoon. The Cleveland Browns needed a victory against the Jacksonville Jaguars to preserve their playoff hopes.
It was Dec. 16, 2001, Week 14 of the NFL season. The Browns entered at 6-6, likely in need of four straight wins to crash the postseason party. The Butch Davis era was well under way and, finally, the team flashed potential. The Jaguars arrived at the shores of Lake Erie with a 4-8 mark.
Tom Coughlin’s squad carried a 9-0 lead into halftime. Cornerback Anthony Henry returned an interception 97 yards for a touchdown late in the third quarter — the Browns established a franchise record with 33 picks in 2001 — to narrow Cleveland’s deficit. Mike Hollis converted a 37-yard field goal with 3:02 remaining to provide the Jaguars with a 15-10 lead.
What happened over the final minutes of the game lives on in infamy in Cleveland sports lore and in the annals of the NFL)
Ahhh my favorite memory as an 11 year old kid at a Browns game with my dad. Nothing was better than being there in the flesh to see the rains of
Castemere Bud Light bottles flying over our heads. That game was important to me as a young Browns fan because I got to experience what it tastes like to be a real Browns fan. To know that you stand no chance at winning anything but to defend your team to the T with “BULL-SHIT” chants and throwing every bottle and piece of trash you see at the Zebras when you’ve been wronged. Hell yeah. I love this shit. I love when people talk about it. “Oh, the acts of savagery the Browns fans showed that day, deplorable” like we aren’t the most blindly passionate fanbase in all of sports (maybe next to the Raiders) but yeah. Puts everything into perspective. Makes games like last Sunday’s pants-shitting a little bit easier to take. Expecting the worst, hoping for the best. The life of a Cleveland Browns fan.
Oh the names…Butchy Boy, Tim Couch, Dennis Northcutt, Jamir Miller…goosebump city!
Welp, here we go folks. It’s Johnny time in Cleveland. Pouring one out for Hoyer today. I went to bat for him time and time again on this site. “Saying relax, it’s not time for Johnny” blah blah blah. I don’t regret what I said or how I felt about Hoyer, but at this point in the season, on the cusp of the playoffs (kind of) and best season in 7 years, let’s open that Christmas gift we got back in April and pop some AA’s in it. I’m excited, as I’m sure most of you are. He’s always been the guy, you can’t just pull a QB who is winning. Hoyer stopped winning and his value depleted. Can’t help but feel sorry for him as he’s definitely lost more money than most of us will make in a lifetime in the span of the past 5 weeks. Oh well, as I’ve said over and over again: it’s a bottom line business, and now it’s money time.
Me right now:
PS: How much poop is in Marvin Lewis’ pants right now?