An irate Cleveland Browns fan urinated on Art Modell’s grave.
The writer at the above link objects to this, because he feels it generates sympathy for Art Modell, the worst NFL team owner ever.
- When the Colts moved to Indianapolis, Modell trademarked “Baltimore Browns”.
- For the next 10 years, he blocked an expansion franchise from opening in Baltimore.
- He repeatedly turned down Cleveland’s offer for a new stadium before we announced his intention to move, and then blamed Cleveland repeatedly for “having to leave”
That being said, while I understand the need for some stealth, so I do not object to his showing up in a Raven’s jersey, and then taking it off to reveal a Brown’s Jersey*, but I do object to his method of urination: he used a catheter tube that ran down the leg of his pants to surreptitiously pee.
If you are going to piss on someone’s grave,† you have to whip out your penis.
The brandishing of genitalia is an essential part of disrespect, as can clearly be observed when watching the behavior of Baboons and Soccer Hooligans.
If you war going with the whole catheter thing, you might as well just bring it in a F%$#ing jar.
It wasn’t like they weren’t going to catch you, you posted the vid to YouTube, and you are now facing up to 2 years in jail, so half measures just do not make sense.
*It was Lyle Alzedo’s Jersey, but Alzedo only played about ⅓ of his career at Cleveland. He should have gone with someone who spent their entire career at the Browns, like Jim Brown, Otto Graham, Gary Collins, Ozzie Newsome, or Lou “The Toe” Groza.
†Full disclosure, my father pissed on Huey Long’s grave while in Louisiana.‡
‡I believe that some quantity of alcohol was involved.€
€This is not the weirdest thing that my dad has done. While he was in the Navy, he was a Corpsman, he was also ordered to function as an HMO for the local brothels around the Navy base at Yokosuka, Japan, because of his CO deal with the fact that, “The base had the highest VD rate in the Pacific Theater.” §
§Well, actually, he wasn’t ordered to be an HMO for the local brothels, he was just told to, “Fix it”, and that his CO, “Didn’t want to hear anything more about it.” Implicit in this was the unspoken thought that my dad could use the supplies of Penicillin, but that if he got caught, the CO knew nothing of it. Ah, the military life. (He was not caught, and left with an honorable discharge)