The hard-luck life of a Browns fan
In reality, it all began Jan. 17, 1988.
Yeah, OK, the hooks were in place way before that -- I was born in Berea, a Cleveland suburb, and even though I lived there for only a year, I'm too loyal for my own good. The Browns were my team by birthright, not unlike jaundice or fetal alcohol syndrome.
But on that fateful winter day -- I now was living, by some cosmic joke, in Denver -- the 9-year-old me was packed with my father into the decidedly unfriendly confines of ...
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