Rooster: 🚨Browns Punch Super Bowl Ticket🚨
Nothing but Browns talk. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry.
For years, I’ve told Browns haters: “Laugh now, cry later.”
Like youthful cigarette smokers who think they’re immune to lung cancer, the haters usually continued laughing.
That nonsense ended last night when the Browns traded Jabrill Peppers along with a first and third-round pick to the New York Giants in exchange for All-Pro receiver Odell Beckham Jr.
The move reunites Beckham with Jarvis Landry, a tandem that’s owned opposing defenses since high school:
Shoutout to the haters who said it would never happen:
NFL executives undoubtedly awoke this morning in horror about the prospect of plummeting ratings due to lack of competition. Fans of other AFC North teams are probably passing a petition asking the government to disband the new juggernaut.
Two years ago we tried talking ourselves into an offensive core featuring a Notre Dame quarterback, a Georgia running back who committed a gun crime, and two receivers who couldn’t catch.
LOOK AT US NOW.
Meanwhile, the drums of war continue to beat on the banks of Lake Erie:
Perhaps Thomas will have inked a contract in blood by the time this dispatch lands in your mailbox. If so, just know I’m already sitting crooked on a stool at a third-shift bar in Piqua while browsing Super Bowl packages.
Poor Breshad Perriman, a standout wide receiver in 2018, signed a one-year, $4.2 million “prove it” deal earlier in the day. After the Browns landed Beckham, Perriman apparently doesn’t think a run to the Super Bowl will provide enough opportunity to earn a mega contract. He understandably wants out of that deal, and he will be missed.
While I always knew the NFL’s reckoning would one day come, it’s still bizarre to not have any rooting interest in the first round of the draft. Usually by this time of the year, I have 800 opinions about every quarterback prospect after watching a half hour of highlights on YouTube.
Somebody please hit me across the face with a tire iron and put me into a coma until September. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to talk about anything besides the Browns for the next five months. Maybe I won’t.
The Rooster Newsletter might be back to regular scheduled programming tomorrow. Or I may liquidate my assets and move to Cleveland to follow the Browns like a Grateful Dead roadie. Who is to say?
Either way, I’m alternating between my two Tim Couch jerseys (you’re damn right I own two Tim Couch jerseys) for the next 8 months.
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