Hardesty: Homage to a championship ticket stub

Last week in this space, I lamented about the absence of a Cleveland Browns’ Super Bowl appearance thus far in my lifetime.

To review: Fifty-seven Super Bowls have been played, 55 in my lifetime, 54 with the Browns existing as an NFL franchise, and they are one of just four active teams never to reach the Super Bowl — along with the Detroit Lions, Jacksonville Jaguars and Houston Texans.

Of course, I wrote last week’s piece from the vantage point of my age, knowing full well that there are Browns fans whose age is somewhat north of mine who have waited longer than I have for that glorious day when our favorite team plays in the sport’s biggest game.

Chas Madonio is one of them. He saw my 55 and raised me, well, this in his response on The Portager website:

“You think you have a sob story? I’ll be 79 by the season’s opener, so my chances of seeing the Browns in the Super Bowl are slim and none. I bought season tickets in 1999 when they rejoined the league and finally gave up during the Hue Jackson nightmare and I calculated that during that stretch, every win I saw cost over $3,000 in my ticket price.”

I read Chas’s response and thought, “He’s got me on this one.” We’re 24 years apart in age, and my total financial loss in attending Browns games is probably in the neighborhood of $300 for my lifetime — a far cry from the hefty sum that he coughed up to watch the Browns go pretty much nowhere.

So I was starting to feel better about this whole Super Bowl thing — until I read the second half of Chas’ response:

“One consolation in my lifetime, though, is that I was present in the center field bleachers (later known as the Dawg Pound) on December 27, 1964, when the Browns won their last championship. I still proudly display my ticket stub from that game on my office wall. But I have reconciled myself to the fact that I will never see them back in a championship game. P.S. – Go Browns”

And that’s where he lost me.

Let’s peel the layers off this onion. First, Chas has been around for every NFL championship that the Browns have won, starting with 1950 — their first year in the league — and going up through their 1954, 1955 and 1964 titles. So that’s four NFL championships to my zero.

Secondly, the Browns played in the NFL Championship Game another five times in 1951, 1952, 1953, 1957 and 1965. Now we’re up to nine NFL Championship Game appearances by the Browns enjoyed by Chas … to my zero.

Thirdly, Chas was one of the 79,544 fans in attendance at old Cleveland Stadium when the Browns defeated the Baltimore Colts 27-0 in the NFL Championship Game in December 1964.

I was one of the 77,683 fans in attendance when the Browns defeated the Dallas Cowboys 24-21 in December 1988, running their record to 9-5 in a season that ended with a Wild Card loss at home to the Houston Oilers.

I like Chas’ December better.

So that’s nine NFL Championship Game appearances and four titles — one in person — that he’s witnessed in his lifetime. To my … zero.

And now I’m back to feeling not at all good about this Super Bowl thing, because my generation doesn’t have the pre-Super Bowl Browns championships to fall back on. We’ve got nothing but the Ghosts of Playoff Disasters Past, infamous days in Cleveland history that are woven into the fabric of Northeast Ohio. You know what they are: Red Right 88, The Drive, The Fumble. If you sat in front of the television for any of those games — or worse, if you sat in the stadium for any of those games — you know what I mean when I say a part of me died those days.

If you weren’t alive for any of those games, consider yourself lucky.

Yes, it’s better to watch the Browns in the playoffs instead of watching them miss the playoffs. But losing those games the way they did cuts deep — really deep. Right to the bone. And they’re wounds that time does not heal.

Which makes their Super Bowl drought even harder to take. Because they’ve been so close — The Drive came down to overtime, The Fumble came down to the last minute. A win in either game would have sent the Browns to the Super Bowl. Full disclosure: Nearly four decades later, I still get a little queasy when I see the Denver Broncos on television.

And then there’s the coup de grace: Chas still proudly displays his ticket stub from the 1964 NFL Championship Game on his office wall. For me to see the Browns win a championship in person, I would first have to score a ticket to the Super Bowl — which isn’t going to happen for a whole host of reasons. So even if the planets and stars align and the Browns actually win a Super Bowl, the chances of me being in the stadium to see it are infinitesimal.

So you win, Chas. You may be in the same Super Bowl boat with me, but you’ve been a passenger on the Good Ship Championship. And you have the boarding pass to prove it. Victory is yours.

But maybe one day, victory will be ours. The Browns will hoist the Vince Lombardi Trophy, and the demons of Red Right 88, The Drive, The Fumble and everything else will be exorcized. In fact, enduring all those heart-wrenching trials and tribulations — and let’s not forget the perfect 0-16 season of 2017 — might make a Super Bowl victory that much sweeter.

There’s only one way to find out.

For now, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never see the Browns play in nine championship games, win four of them and sit in the stands for one of them. My Browns sob story, indeed, stands the test of time. I’m 0-for-existence.

But I’m not asking for nine or four. One will do just fine, thanks.

One Super Bowl victory.

One magnificent image of the Browns hoisting the Vince Lombardi Trophy.

One ride on the Good Ship Championship.

And then, like Chas, I can start wondering if I’ll ever get to see the Browns back in a championship game.