Thank you sir! May I have another?

Yup, I'm off to the Browns game tonight. I'm thinking of wearing no shirt, lederhosen and one of those things that they stuffed into Ving Rhames mouth in Pulp Fiction's most disturbing scene. While admittedly unconventional, I think that this kind of bondage-wear is the most appropriate attire for anyone voluntarily attending the ninth edition of the slow motion train wreck that is the Browns season.

In other words, if you show up for this one, you definitely have a thing for pain. Not only will you have to endure the coma inducing tedium interspersed with moments of slapstick comedy that Brian Daboll calls an offensive game plan, but you'll also be a participant in yet another nationally televised Cleveland joke. What fun.

I'll probably chicken out and dress like any other idiot, complete with my Bernie Kosar jersey to remind me of better days. I'll try to show up on time, if only to spite the knuckleheaded protesters, but despite the change at QB, it's not like I hold out any hope that the team is going to win, or even score an offensive touchdown. The Ravens aren't great, but they're good enough to beat the Browns. (For what it's worth, I watched the Glenville v. St. Ignatius game on Saturday night, and I think Glenville's good enough to beat the Browns.)

So that raises the question, "why show up?" Aside from the fact that I'm a season ticket holder and I've got some sunk costs, that's a question that is getting very hard to answer -- and one that an increasing number of fans are starting to answer by saying, "the hell with it -- I'm not going."

Well, I'm going, but I'm not sure why. Part of it has got to be the masochism thing, but part of the reason is likely even more unflattering -- it's probably got to do with the part of human nature that makes us slow down so that we get a good look at traffic accidents.

Maybe I'd be better off investing the money that I spend on Browns tickets on a good shrink. Maybe we all would.