Josh Cribbs is the face of the Browns and maybe of sports in Cleveland now. In a city desperate for a winner, he and his team will be most fans' first option.
Payton Krase, 8, of Columbia Station works to get the attention of Josh Cribbs after the first session of the Browns' first day of training camp Saturday at Berea. BEREA, Ohio -- Cheered when he first appeared on the practice field, with his dreadlocks streaming behind his helmet like a comet's tail. Cheered when he ran the "wildcat" formation at quarterback. Cheered before and after signing innumerable autographs.
Josh Cribbs, the new king of Cleveland, declines the title, but would be cast in the role.
"This city is bigger than any one man," said the Browns' kick returner/wide receiver/gadget quarterback.
His function is to create the same alarm among Browns opponents as would be the case were an actual wildcat flung into their midst.
He is, perhaps most of all, the anti-LeBron James. Cribbs is the dynamic player who was absolutely tremendous throughout the past season, never quitting or coming close to it, always giving his all. He said he wanted to stay here, although his contract did not reflect his value to the team. When that was rectified, he not only stayed, but gave the dejected city a hug.
Cleveland is a great sports town, one that has grown greater because the fans' hearts have been broken so many times without apathy becoming their recourse. They will fall in love again, although they never really fell out of it with the Browns. They will eventually, and probably sooner rather than later, be hurt again. They will move on, ready to take the next faint ember of hope and coax it into flame.
"When anybody asks me about what Cleveland has to offer, they are the most die-hard fans ever," says Josh Cribbs. The biggest attraction to Cribbs in the city is not the Rock Hall, not Terminal Tower, not the many cultural and recreational possibilities.
"When anybody asks me about what Cleveland has to offer, they are the most die-hard fans ever," Cribbs said. "I tell them about the city, the people of Cleveland and how die-hard they are and how much they'll fight for you in any type of weather."
Always the most beloved franchise in town, but not the best since Bernie Kosar was taking the snaps a generation ago, the Browns are bigger than ever this season. The Indians trade players as soon as they become too good to fit into their budget. "The Decision" sank the Cavaliers almost as quickly as the Witness billboard was dismantled.
The Browns have skipped a generation as consistent contenders. They skipped three years of playing at all. They skipped becoming immediately competitive, due to clueless drafting and the existing teams' resentment of all the breaks given to previous expansion franchises in Jacksonville and Carolina.
Other qualities have been skipped, however, that were probably best omitted in the first place.
There is no first-time head coach, but rather Eric Mangini, in his fifth year overall and second here.
There is no college guy in charge of personnel, dialing up players he tried to recruit at The U. Tom Heckert built the Eagles into contenders.
There is no flim-flam man as the owner's right-hand man. Mike Holmgren took both Green Bay and Seattle to the Super Bowl, after both franchises had fallen into neglect and inconsequence.
There is no skimping on discipline, and there is no favoritism.
There is a half-roster of new players, but there is also a core of holdovers to teach them the system.
There is no great quarterback. Hasn't been since Kosar was knocking on the door. But no quarterback is named Derek Anderson or Brady Quinn, either, both of whom were burdened by past inadequacies.
Mangini won the last four games last season with Jerome Harrison providing the most rugged ground game since 1985 and Earnest Byner and Kevin Mack. In what was literally a stretch "run," the Browns beat Pittburgh in bitter conditions, putting a tooth or two back in the rivalry and hope back in fans' hearts.
But Holmgren knows the Browns have to throw to balance such a primitive attack. In 1986, Kosar suddenly emerged. This is Colt McCoy's year to stand watch. Next year?
There are no divas, no look-at-me guys, no Kellen Winslow, no Braylon Edwards. Jokingly asked if he had ever been called "King," by himself or anyone else, Cribbs said, "I feel like I'm on the right path to be all that, but I want to empower everyone else."
The city is desperate to latch on to something positive in sports. "It's a huge burden, but one we fully accept," said Cribbs.
"I want to accelerate [the rebuilding] as quickly as possible," said Mangini. "If I could push a fast-forward button, I'd probably get carpal tunnel syndrome from pressing it so much."