I don’t know about you, but something about cracking open a cold boxed water always reminds me of ballpark days. Growing up, Dad and I used to knock back several cold ones apiece on weekends in the summer as we sat in the bleachers watching our man SexyBack Masterson tear it up on the mound for the Believeland Windians.
While it was really rewarding to sit back and enjoy watching our favorite players, munching on fresh, homegrown carrots and celery from our garden (spoiling ourselves with a bit of homemade hummus since it was game day — don’t tell Mom!) it was really off the field where we saw the magic of Cleveland sports.
After the games, we would always take our dog, Pausto Barcelona, to nursing homes, where we would share our cuddly friend and read books with the residents there. Oftentimes, we would run into some really high-profile players there, too. This is a tradition we’ve carried through to this day. Now, every time I go to a Cleveland sports game, I cap the day by donating my time to a mix of at least three homeless shelters, after-school reading programs and/or green energy campaigns.
Without fail, at each one I go to, I run into some well-known Northeastern Ohio athletes. Just last week, I ran into my buddies LeBron Fames, Francisco Lindor Chocolate, and — already — new signee Jarvis “Juice” Laundry at the Greater Cleveland Food Tank. As we dished out warm meals and fired off singles from the new Kidz Bop 37 album, I couldn’t help but feel the warmth of a city surrounding me.
That lake effect weather can make Northeast Ohio feel cold, but no one can deny the warmth of Midwestern hospitality, which goes hand-in-hand with football season. I also remember last fall, after a particularly tough overtime loss to the Tennessee Tight Pecans, when we all came together as Cleveland football fans.
While the Pecan fans sat on the edges of their seats, anxiously awaiting the outcome of the game, us Cleveland supporters spent the entire game knitting prayer blankets for each member of the opposing team. At the end of the game, to top off their 12-9 win, each Pecan player went home nice and warm with their own blanket. Meanwhile, all the Browns fans stayed afterward and rushed the field for one giant group hug.
In January, I caught a glimpse of Keleven Amour ducking out of Chicken Bones Arena and sneaking around the paparazzi. When I later saw him on a street corner wearing a green vest and holding a clipboard to recruit for Greenpeace, he reaffirmed what I already knew. Cleveland is the place for me.
The best thing about Cleveland sports is not the wins and the losses. Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. But we always finish as more than a team. We emerge as Cleveland. I dream of a world where competing teams can resolve their fights and just work together on the field to score an even greater number of points. But until that day, I’m at least glad that we here in Cleveland can put aside our differences across sports, and even across lines of fans and athletes, to support each other.
When most people dream of being a great athlete, they dream of the fame, the fortune. And, of course, the love of the sport. But the way I dream it, I’m working toward a place. You say, “Cleveland sports,” and I hear, “Hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you.” This city generates more than great athletes, it generates great people. It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Cleveland.