OF THE BROWNS, INDIANS AND A SPATULA

By STEVE KING

I love the Cavaliers.

I really do.

I root for them all the time – that NBA championship back in 2016 was something all of us will never forget – and as such it pains me with the way they’re struggling now with this complete rebuilding project after LeBron James left for the second time. I hope they get competitive again – and then ultimately become a contender – soon, soon, soon.

But if the truth be told – and it always is here – then I have to admit I love the Indians, who are back in town this week at Progressive Field for the first time since early last fall, playing first the Kansas City Royals and then the Detroit Tigers over the weekend, and the Browns a little more. I think that’s probably the case for a lot of people my age who grew up in the 1960s. The Cavaliers were not born until 1970, when I was a freshman in high school. The Browns and Indians were there right from the beginning as I came of age as a Northeast Ohio sports fan, taking the spatula out of mom’s kitchen gadgets drawers next to the refrigerator and using that as a makeshift microphone as I sat under the big maple tree in the back yard and pretended to announce both teams’ games. So, then, the roots with them will always be a little longer.

While regular-season Browns games are main events every week, which are must-see since there are only 16 of them and they mean so much, the baseball season, with its 162 almost daily mini-productions, meanders along just like summer, when the pace slows down for all of us. If you have to miss an Indians game – or if they lose – it’s not that big of a deal because they’ll get a fresh start the next day when they’ll be right back at it.

So, as the Browns motor toward the NFL Draft, which they will host for the first time at the end of the month, the Indians’ games will serve as daily preludes to it.

It’s a great time of the year, and I’m glad it’s here.