Those bellicose Browns

Sporting News, The, Dec 13, 1993 by Terry Frei

One month after the unceremonious dumping of a hometown hero, Cleveland has yet to free itself to free itself from Berniegate

Art Modell gingerly settled into his golf cart after the Cleveland Browns' practice last Friday. Almost conspiratorially, he disclosed he had just finished addressing the Browns. The media hadn't been able to witness the speech from afar because the Browns -- in typical National Football League cloak, dagger and Venetian fashion -- close the blinds in the press room during the "sensitive" periods of practice.

"First time in years I spoke to the team on the field," the team's majority owner and president said. "It was time for a little encouragement."

As Modell related it later, his speech was reminiscent of the lyrics from a halftime band tribute to the music of George M. Cohan and the wisdom of George Allen. Rally 'round the flag, close ranks, we are family, the heck with the critics, that kind of stuff. And Modell's pithy R-rated final line to his team shall have to go unreported. Honest, you would have laughed . . . and a lot of the Brown apparently did.

The bunker mentality had taken hold in Cleveland, where the Browns snapped their losing streak Sunday with a 17-13 victory over the Saints. Going in, four consecutive losses and a Maelstrom of civic dissent in the wake of Bernie Kosar's release had left Modell backing away from the local media and in a feisty mood.

"I've been hurt by the media feeding frenzy," Modell says. "I've been criticized before, but not with the relentless frenzy of outdoing each other and seeing who can butcher more and butcher quicker."

It reached the point where Modell even saw something suspicious in the heralding headlines that Friday morning about the Cleveland Indians' signing of two veteran free agents, pitcher Dennis Martinez and designated-hitter-to-be Eddie Murray. "A couple of 82-year-olds," Modell called them at first. "They sign these two players, we're playing New Orleans Sunday and you'd think the Messiah came."

The whole fallout from Berniegate had become silly, and rather silly all around, in Cleveland.

The overreaction was pervasive from management to the locker room to the street, even reaching down to some of the fans who:

a) Groused about the side-arming and slow-of-foot Kosar right up to the moment he was released November 8 and at various times wanted to go with Mike Pagel or Vinny Testaverde, now are coming off as if they want to . . .

b) Dispense with the five-year wait and immediately induct Kosar into the Pro Football Hall of Fame at nearby Canton or canonize the ardent Catholic quarterback as a saint (Rome, not New Orleans) because of all those miracles he allegedly performed as the Browns' area native-son quarterback. And then they want to . . .

c) Put both Modell and his coach, Bill Belichick, out into the middle of Lake Erie. Not only without a paddle, but also without a boat. Or life preservers.

Modell has given Belichick, his taciturn third-year coach, a contract extension through 1997 and considerable authority in an organization with neither a general manager nor an offensive coordinator. Belichick is a generalisimo, and there are those in Cleveland who think that's too much. They would argue that Belichick's personality is roughly as engaging as that of Francisco Franco, who is dead as Chevy Chase's talk show. It's safe to assume that group includes the fans who listened to Belichick's postgame interview out on the concourse speakers but continued to chant, "Bill Must Go." This was after a victory, a victory that was a tribute to the defensive intensity Belichick preaches.

That all leads to the strangest aspect of the Browns-Bill-Bernie fiasco. Belichick made the right evaluation. Stubbornly, but with the backing of those around him, he just took it to the logical conclusion at an inappropriate time -- with the Browns tied for first in the AFC Central and with Testaverde sidelined with a separated shoulder that would keep him out until he split time with Todd Philcox in the victory over the Saints. Belichick did it with a lack of artfulness and salesmanship that was probably more honest than some of the reaction, but nevertheless made it inevitable that he would come off in Cleveland like a commissioner closing down a homeless shelter on Christmas Eve for zoning violations.

Funny, but quickie public-opinion phone polls, always of dubious reliability, nonetheless showed a virtual 50-50 split about Belichick's decision. Belichick's mailwas heavily supportive, although there's a definite self-screening process involved in such correspondence.

Although Belichick was vilified for his "diminishing skills" assessment of Kosar in explaining the release, even Belichick's toughest critics eventually let it slip that Kosar's game had deteriorated. Kosar's injuries, a bad offensive line and an "unimaginative" offense all were cited -- and had some merit. Belichick does need an offensive coordinator. The Browns do need to take better advantage of Eric Metcalf, whose 55-yard run Sunday set up the Browns' winning touchdown in the third quarter. The Browns would have been wiser to live with Kosar -- a nice guy who did nore than United Way commercials for the community -- through the 1993 season, even as Bernie continued to second-guess Belichick's coaching.