As for my family, even though folks have their personal favorites – the Cowboys or the Vikings or the Packers – we ALL cheer for the Browns, the long-suffering Browns. Whichever you are, you naturally despise the other. It’s a given: if you live in Y-Town, you’re either a Browns fan or a Steelers fan. Youngstown, equidistant between Cleveland and Pittsburgh, has been a city divided immemorial by football. My brother, for as long as I can remember, dressed in green and gold from head to toe on game days, screaming his cheesehead off in deference to and adulation of his Green Bay Packers.Īnd then, of course, there are the Cleveland Browns. Then again, maybe not, but it sure sounds like something she would have yelled. As memory serves, I might have heard her yell, “Get that son of a bitch!” a time or two.

My Grandma McCarthy, on the other hand, loved Fran “The Man” Tarkenton and the Vikings’ Purple People Eaters, whom she fiercely cheered on. He had great respect for Tom Landry, always dapperly dressed, fedora and all, but I think he watched them mostly because of their cheerleaders, skimpily clad in their cowgirl outfits. I grew up watching the game – usually pro football – with my Dad, a diehard Cowboys fan they were, after all, America’s team, so he said. How could I not? I come from a football loving family.

Rosary hail mary football