Every time I visit Cleveland, something strange happens, often something wonderful.
At the Cavs-Heat game on December 2, I looked down from press row and saw the sign in the photo.
It was a painful game, a landmark of misery in the history of Cleveland sports, but that sign meant a lot to me. Too embarrassed to approach the guys who made it, I asked Christine Lesko, the Cavs’ director of advertising, to go over and take a photo for me, just to prove that it actually happened.
After the game, I called my wife and told her about it — about how strange it felt. I’ve been to hundreds and hundreds of Browns, Indians, Cavs, Barons, and Crusaders games, starting in the late 1950s. I never could have imagined that one day I’d go to a Cleveland game and see a sign with my name on it.
I never did get the names of the guys with the sign. I’m hoping they see this, and get in touch. Next time I’m in town, dinner’s on me.