It Always Ends Badly
Everything in Cleveland sports ends badly, otherwise it wouldn’t be Cleveland. – Coughlin’s Law
LeBron James took the easy way out: he’s going to Miami to play with the Heat. The LeBron Era is over. We all saw it happen live on national TV.
This time it was supposed to be different. This time the free agent wasn’t supposed to leave.
This time Brian Sipe threw the ball into Lake Erie, Ernest Byner held onto the ball, John Elway went three-and-out, Michael Jordan missed the shot, Jose Mesa got the save.
It wasn’t supposed to end this way. This time it wasn’t supposed to be about money. It wasn’t about a team unable or unwilling to pay top dollar.
You’re supposed to be rewarded for trying to build a winning franchise, for putting money, facilities and passion into a team; not for intentionally destroying your franchise for a pipe dream of signing a free agent.
This wasn’t supposed to be a press conference in a parking lot in Baltimore.
But, of course, it was. T.I.C.
So now we pick up the pieces and move on. And we will, because we’re Cleveland fans; it’s what we do. We will show the country that Cleveland sports fan can be beaten, but we can never be broken.
We’ve lived through far worse and survived. We will get through this.
And when the championship finally comes – and we have to believe it will, because without hope what are we left with – men will say, “This was their finest hour.”
Red Right 88 
Was just perusing your blog and saw your churchill quote.
i think henry v applies too…
MO WILLIAMS: O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those free agents
That do no work to-day!
KING DANIEL: What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Mo? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark'd to lose, we are enow
To do our team loss; and if to win,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet the OBrien Trophy,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from Miami.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Mo, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let Z depart; his passport shall be made,
And dollars for convoy put into his purse;
We would not lose in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to lose with us.
This day is call'd the feast of The Decision.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Decision.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is The Decision.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his tatts,
And say 'These tatts of loyalty I had on Decision Day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day.
Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Dan the King, Mo and JJ,
Antawn and Boobie, AV and AP-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Decision Day shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that signs with the Cavs
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in New York now ridiculing us
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Decision day.