All the other devastating blows in Cleveland sports history that were outlined Saturday night in the premiere of the documentary, “Believeland,” as part of ESPN’s “30 for 30 series, were singular roundhouses to the jaw.

 

Then there’s “The Drive” and “The Fumble.”

 

Just by themselves, they, too, dropped Browns fans to their knees in the 1986 and ’87 AFC Championship Games.

 

But combined, they provided a knockout punch and, more importantly, left a scar, especially with the fact they happened just a year apart.

 

I knew that already, just like the rest of you,  because we all lived it.

 

But that fact was impressed upon me more firmly several years ago. It’s something I’ll never forget.

 

When I worked for the Browns for a decade on their website, I did all of their history pieces. As part of that, I did a lot of “then and now” interviews with former Browns greats. From players who began with the Browns back in the franchise’s formative years, such as Dub Jones and Pro Football Hall of Famers Bill Willis and Dante Lavelli, to those who were with the original franchise’s last years in Cleveland before moving to Baltimore, such as Eric Metcalf and Michael Dean Perry, we were able to span the decades.

 

It was a rare privilege, for which I will always be very grateful.

 

There were plenty of times when I’d be sitting across from some icon throwing questions at him as we strolled down memory lane, that I’d be ready to pinch myself to see if it was real, or if I was just dreaming.

 

When I was interviewing Hanford Dixon, a cornerback for the Browns from 1981-89, an idea popped into my head. I knew that just about every question under the sun has been asked about “The Drive” and “The Fumble,” but what about if I put a very personal spin on it?

 

So I asked “The Top Dawg” this: “You’ve gone on to do a lot of different things since retiring from football, but maybe on a long drive, or while you’re by yourself or perhaps when it’s late at night and you can’t sleep, do you ever think back – perhaps only for a moment or two – to those AFC Championship Games in 1986 and ’87?”

 

Nobody loves life more than Dixon, and that was evident throughout the interview. He couldn’t stop laughing. He was having a great time.

 

Despite that, I had no idea what his reaction would be. I had been interviewing him for a long time and had just about run out of things to say. As such, I thought there was at least a chance he would get upset, give me that exasperated, “Really?” look, and then just up and cut the session off at that point.

 

I never dreamed I’d get the reaction that I did.

 

Dixon immediately stopped laughing. The smile was replaced by a serious look, and then tears trickling down his cheeks.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, but probably was no more than only two or three seconds, Dixon began to speak – slowly, carefully choosing his words, not so as to keep from saying something he shouldn’t, but rather so as to make sure he said everything that was on his mind in just the right way.

 

“I think about it all the time,” he said. “We should have won both of those games – we should have been Super Bowl champs — and because we didn’t win, it kept some of us from getting into the Hall of Fame. We needed the exposure you get from being on the big stage of a Super Bowl, but we never got it.”

 

I posed the same question to other members of those teams, such as Dixon’s buddy and running mate, cornerback Frank Minnifield, running back Kevin Mack, nose tackle Bob Golic, quarterback Bernie Kosar and wide receivers Webster Slaughter and Reggie Langhorne. Their reactions were similar. Those losses were no laughing matter. They were serious business.

 

I was stunned that the players are no different than the fans in that they, too, have been forever changed by those two games. They, too, wonder, “What it?” They, too, can’t get it out of their heads. They, too, haven’t accepted what occurred against the Broncos, and never will.

 

They, too, realize that what starch was left in the Browns after “The Drive” was flushed out of them completely with “The Fumble.” It was simply too much bad stuff in too short of a time frame.

 

Things were never the same with those Browns teams. That era, for all intents and purposes, was over.

 

That’s what happens when you take something horrible to the nth degree and then times it by two.