by Cameron Mays

   (Plain Press January 2025) Take a walk around the entire stadium, from Dawg Pound to Dawg Pound, then take a walk down East 55th from St. Clair to Broadway. Watch a game from the owner’s box, then watch one from a television set in any apartment at Outhwaite. The point of this comparison should be obvious. Our football stadium is as bad, if not worse, than these places.

HUMOR

   On the question of how to spend a billion dollars in Cleveland, it is about time we listen to a truck stop tycoon from Tennessee. He is rich. He also lives and spends most of his time in Bratenahl. These factors make him a totally neutral party, possessing no financial incentive or emotional attachment to Cleveland or Brook Park. Think of him as our eunuch advisor that will guide us to the best decision. Besides, is there really a better way to invest a billion dollars in Northeast Ohio? No, but let’s entertain some possibilities.

Build a mass transit rail system

   Dumb. No need to go anywhere when there’s no game. No need to go to a game when it’s in a crummy old lakefront stadium.

   Next.

Bail out Cleveland State and Baldwin Wallace

   If they need money, maybe they should ask their six-figure presidents to chip in. Better yet, try their season ticket holders. They don’t have any money? Exactly. Don’t dredge sunk ships.

Investments in public health

   Cuyahoga County has one of the highest rates of infant mortality. I don’t blame them for clocking out early. The kids’ zone at the stadium is laughably unfun.

   No good? How’s this. Part of the money goes towards feeding the dog. You know Rufus, that big mastiff shown after commercial breaks. You love that dog. He’s been looking rather skinny as of late. You don’t want that poor dog to starve to death, do you? Of course not. You want him to be big and happy and to cheer on the team in his own doggy way.

   When we raise that big silver trophy in our new stadium, Rufus is going to be there. He’s going to lick that shiny trophy with his giant, slobbery tongue and the owners and coaches and players and fans are going to be so happy, they won’t even care. They’ll all just laugh and in unison say, “Oh, Rufus!”

   But that won’t happen if he’s dead. Don’t kill Rufus. Don’t kill the stadium. You hurt them once before. Don’t do it again. Please.