Friday, November 17, 2006


Fond memories of last Christmas Eve, and they didn't even mention James Harrison's body slam of a drunken Browns fan who misguidedly wandered onto the field.

Joey Porter's Pit Bulls Go To The Dawg Pound

Joey Porter’s Pit Bulls love the Dawg Pound.

It’s not that we’re combative or anything … but it’s just so much fun to encounter guys with dog masks who think they’re BAD; and then, despite ourselves, stay out of jail.

The real Dawg Pound died with Municipal Stadium, just as the old Browns franchise died when Art Modell highjacked it to Baltimore. Prick.

We haven’t been to the new Browns Stadium, which looks nice, but take our word for it, Municipal Stadium was not nice. Anything but.

“Barely controlled riot” would be the words to describe the Dawg Pound during Steelers-Browns games. Never mind the disgusting, overflowing restrooms. Never mind the continuing jawing and woofing between fans from Pittsburgh and Cleveland. Never mind the distractions, such as the periodic incursions of uniformed police that would snap attention from the action on the field — which itself, typically, was spastically violent in bizarre ways.

No, there are memories of sounds, too, such as, for instance, the distinctive crack of a revolver … in the stands, mind you … which triggered a massive response from Cleveland’s Finest and even more brawling fueled by testosterone, drugs and alcohol.

Hollywood couldn’t begin to stage such mayhem.

Real. Surreal. Hyper-real.

Ah, the memories.

Good times ... good times, indeed, and stories aplenty for the Thanksgiving dinner table.