Football is serious business, personal and ultra-important, in Browns Nation. In fact, some would call it a religion of sorts.

And that is both true and understandable, for, after all, pro football as we know it today — the NFL — was concocted on a street corner in Canton just over a century ago.

But, having said that, football at all levels — even in Ohio, in the NFL and with the Browns — is, at its core, entertainment, for at no time in any athletic event anywhere are we curing cancer, solving hunger or forging world peace. Win, lose or draw at Huntington Bank Field, or at the road venues,  those issues are still on the to-do list.

However, what is happening with the Browns this year, what with their unexpectedly dismal 2–7 record and an offense that is, at its very best, extraordinarily offensive, is not entertaining.

Nor is it fun.

Or pleasurable.

Or exciting.

Or desirable.

Or satisfying.

Or joyous.

Or heartwarming.

Or relaxing.

Or memorable, at least in a good way.

So, then, this Browns season is more of a tortuous habit, than a desire. Nobody is eagerly anticipating kickoff in New Orleans against the Saints just after 1 p.m. Sunday.

It’s like taking bad medicine in that you just gotta do it. You have to get through it. You have to grin and bear it. 

And again, that’s the fault of Browns co-owners Jimmy and Dee Haslam and their top people.

Hey, y’all, thanks for sucking the fun right out of our Sundays.

We owe ya one.

Ahem.

Steve King