Farewell A Dawg-Gone Shame

The final seconds were ticking away Sunday in what was likely the final game for the Browns at Cleveland Stadium. And it was time to say goodbye - the goodbye nobody wanted to say - to a half-century of memories.

The bleacher benches, golf balls and other assorted accessories that occasionally came flying out of the stands late in the game against Cincinnati had ceased. So had the odd firecracker. Twice, the officials turned the offenses in the opposite direction of the Dawg Pound in the final minutes to avoid potential trouble in the east end zone. But anger was soon to turn into a celebration.

The boisterous chant of “Modell Sucks,” which rocked the stadium for much of the afternoon, even stopped. Instead, there were cheers, a standing ovation, a final, tearful goodbye. “It was like they were losing a family member,” Browns running back Earnest Byner said.

And when the Browns ended a six-game losing streak with a 26-10 victory, some players heeded the team’s advice and sprinted to the locker room. But many headed right to the Dawg Pound.

A surreal scene.

As melancholy music filled the stadium smack on Lake Erie, some Browns ventured into the stands for hugs. Pepper Johnson and Carl Banks stood by the fence separating the field and the Pound and were swept away by the moment.

“There were a lot of mixed emotions,” Johnson said. “There were jubilant people, but sad deep down inside. They were joyful we showed our support and it showed both sides were going to miss one another if the move goes on.”

“There were a lot of handshakes and head slaps and a bunch of ‘I love yous,”’ Banks said.

Browns owner Art Modell, of course, wasn’t around. He was at home in West Palm Beach, Fla. A sign above his empty box said, “Reserved For A Winning Owner.”

Cleveland’s case against the Browns goes to trial Feb. 12. The city is trying to force the Browns to play out the remaining three years of their lease, instead of just buying their way out. The NFL still can make things difficult by voting down the Browns’ move on Jan. 17 and then showing the courage to defend an antitrust lawsuit. Realistically, the Browns are done in Cleveland.

“It’s been a pretty tough day,” Dawg Pound founder John Thompson said from his spot in the first row. “I made it through the game with pretty much a dry eye, but there’s been a (few) tears.”

Thompson started the Dawg Pound in 1985 after the Browns defensive backs began barking at the defensive linemen to get them motivated. One day, Thompson had finished watching a college football game in a bar with a buddy, noticed the grand opening of a costume shop nearby and for $10 bought a dog mask. Born: The Dawg Pound.

“This is probably the worst day in the history of sports,” said Pounder Dave Adkins. “We’re talking about 49 years of history being stripped.”

A few blocks from the stadium in the hours before the game, thousands of fans gathered in a public square. Mayor Michael White led a chant of, “It’s not over.”

One thing is clear: the disdain for Modell, the Brooklyn native who bought the team for $4 million in 1961 and now pleads poverty as he picks up and moves to Baltimore.

Step off the plane at Cleveland’s airport and this city’s mission becomes immediately clear. There are petitions looking for two million signatures, under the line “Save Our Browns.”

A few feet away, a neon sign wishes happy holidays, then flashes, “Stop Art Modell.” Fans carried “Save Our Browns” signs at the rally that included the NFL’s phone and fax numbers. One man had a poster proclaiming, “Santa: All I want for Christmas is my Browns in Cleveland.” This, obviously, is a passionate football town passionate about its football team being taken away.

“Right now, I’m just numb,” said Bill Chaney, 61, a fan since the ‘50s. “This is just like a funeral. This is the wake. Later on, we are going to bury them. This is hard to believe.”

The fans started remodeling Cleveland

Stadium, removing seats and taking them home.

Two signs said it all:

“Ladies and gentlemen, the kennel is now closed.”

“Last one out, turn out the lights.”

A man with a young son approached to two brothers in full Dawg outfits, complete with painted faces and dog ears. “I wanted to show my son,” he said, “what he could have grown into. Now, he may never have a chance.”

The following fields overflowed: DATELINE = THE DAWG POUND, CLEVELAND STADIUM