Jonathan Knight's Blog
March 10, 2023
The Story Behind the Book
I always love hearing a book’s origin story.
The moment that lightning struck in a writer’s imagination and the seed for a great story - fiction or nonfiction - was planted. So often, it’s a moment you would never expect.
For me and The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences: Fact and Legend in the Assassinations, it happened in a museum gift shop…three decades ago.
Best guess, I was probably about eleven and remember the feeling quite clearly. Like a lightning bolt sizzling through my body.
Right there, hanging on the wall—or perhaps in one of those hinged frame-turner deals with which you can leaf through different posters—was an eleven-by-fourteen introduction to a genuine mystery of American history.
To its credit, its bold headline ended with a question mark, framing its thesis as merely a possibility, not a declaration. Still, printed on a thick parchment deliberately made to look wrinkled, aged, and important, it looked just like the other replicas hanging beside it: namely, the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, the Emancipation Proclamation, and the Gettysburg Address. Add to that the historically accurate reproductions of Civil War currencies and maps that looked like they were taken straight off Ulysses Grant’s whiskey-stained living room wall, and this poster with the question mark headline bore a bit more weight. Call it legitimacy by association.
“Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidence?” it ruminated in thick black ink across the top, bookended by images of, no surprise, presidential order number sixteen and number thirty-five: Abraham Lincoln and John Kennedy. Beneath the headline, the poster ticked off eighteen overlapping or similar details that connected both the assassinations of the two presidents and the presidents themselves.
At first glance, my eleven-or-possibly-twelve-year-old self stood there slack-jawed, taking in the list and burrowing its details deep down into my long-term memory. It was genuinely one of the most fascinating things I’d ever seen.
Yet for as entertaining as the content of the poster was, that wasn’t what sealed the deal for me. Even at that young age, I knew a little something about odds and the likelihood of coincidence. A very little something, but I knew that for there to be this many coincidences suggested the possibility that none of it was actually coincidence.
In retrospect, that was probably the moment I became mesmerized by both of these events in one fell swoop. In the years that followed, with all the historically slanted term papers and book reports I wrote, books and articles I read, and movies and documentaries I watched, my fascination with the Lincoln and Kennedy assassinations began in that moment—when I became convinced they were somehow cosmically connected.
And though it took roughly a half of a lifetime for that seed to ultimately bloom into a full grown flower, that encounter is the moment that started it all.
The moment that lightning struck in a writer’s imagination and the seed for a great story - fiction or nonfiction - was planted. So often, it’s a moment you would never expect.
For me and The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences: Fact and Legend in the Assassinations, it happened in a museum gift shop…three decades ago.
Best guess, I was probably about eleven and remember the feeling quite clearly. Like a lightning bolt sizzling through my body.
Right there, hanging on the wall—or perhaps in one of those hinged frame-turner deals with which you can leaf through different posters—was an eleven-by-fourteen introduction to a genuine mystery of American history.
To its credit, its bold headline ended with a question mark, framing its thesis as merely a possibility, not a declaration. Still, printed on a thick parchment deliberately made to look wrinkled, aged, and important, it looked just like the other replicas hanging beside it: namely, the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, the Emancipation Proclamation, and the Gettysburg Address. Add to that the historically accurate reproductions of Civil War currencies and maps that looked like they were taken straight off Ulysses Grant’s whiskey-stained living room wall, and this poster with the question mark headline bore a bit more weight. Call it legitimacy by association.
“Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidence?” it ruminated in thick black ink across the top, bookended by images of, no surprise, presidential order number sixteen and number thirty-five: Abraham Lincoln and John Kennedy. Beneath the headline, the poster ticked off eighteen overlapping or similar details that connected both the assassinations of the two presidents and the presidents themselves.
At first glance, my eleven-or-possibly-twelve-year-old self stood there slack-jawed, taking in the list and burrowing its details deep down into my long-term memory. It was genuinely one of the most fascinating things I’d ever seen.
Yet for as entertaining as the content of the poster was, that wasn’t what sealed the deal for me. Even at that young age, I knew a little something about odds and the likelihood of coincidence. A very little something, but I knew that for there to be this many coincidences suggested the possibility that none of it was actually coincidence.
In retrospect, that was probably the moment I became mesmerized by both of these events in one fell swoop. In the years that followed, with all the historically slanted term papers and book reports I wrote, books and articles I read, and movies and documentaries I watched, my fascination with the Lincoln and Kennedy assassinations began in that moment—when I became convinced they were somehow cosmically connected.
And though it took roughly a half of a lifetime for that seed to ultimately bloom into a full grown flower, that encounter is the moment that started it all.
February 25, 2023
What's Left to Say?
Now that my new book The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences: Fact and Legend in the Assassinations is finally out, readers have been asking: That’s a really cool topic, but what’s left to say about either assassinations?
It’s a fair question. But one with a surprisingly clear answer.
It’s estimated that about 15,000 books have been written about Abraham Lincoln. In fact, within the lobby of the Ford’s Theatre Center for Education and Leadership stands a tower constructed of a sampling of those books. It’s made up of roughly 6,800 titles, less than half the total count, and stands at a whopping thirty-four feet—a truly amazing monument to the amount of thought and research put into one specific topic.
Believe it or not, the swath of books about John Kennedy is even larger. Upon the fiftieth anniversary of his death in 2013, the New York Times estimated the count at nearly 40,000, with a large percentage of that tally dedicated to his assassination.
Put them together and that’s well over 50,000 books covering a wide range of angles into both men, their presidencies, and their tragic deaths. Yet there’s never been one quite like this.
Even within the subset of books focusing on each president’s assassination, The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences remains distinct. Rather than walking through the compelling stories of those tragic events or exploring the motivations or even conspiratorial possibilities behind them, this book grabs hold of a thread running through both presidents and their respective assassinations: the long list of inexplicable similarities and coincidences between the two events. Which is one of those topics that most people are at least vaguely familiar with—one that’s fascinated both casual and serious history buffs for more than half a century.
Chapter by chapter, The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences delves into that list and its origins while following the general timeline of each assassination—flying at a different altitude than any of the previous books that have approached these subjects. Along the way, it branches off into side stories and subplots that shine a light into relatively unexplored pockets of each assassination and further tie the two together. From the compilation of the initial list to a campfire story of a curse cast upon the American presidency to the mind-bending metaphysical implications of what all these connections might suggest, this book blends serious historical research with a sprinkle of whimsy.
It began as a simple investigation of that list of eerie coincidences, setting out to decipher which ones are true, which aren’t, and how likely (or unlikely) those similarities really are. Over time and exploration, it branched out into something much more satisfying and evolved into what you’re about to read: a journey along a path filled with colorful people and places making up some truly compelling anecdotes that you won’t believe you haven’t heard.
The end result is a book that will likely feel partially familiar, partially brand new, and totally unlike any of the thousands that have come before.
It’s a fair question. But one with a surprisingly clear answer.
It’s estimated that about 15,000 books have been written about Abraham Lincoln. In fact, within the lobby of the Ford’s Theatre Center for Education and Leadership stands a tower constructed of a sampling of those books. It’s made up of roughly 6,800 titles, less than half the total count, and stands at a whopping thirty-four feet—a truly amazing monument to the amount of thought and research put into one specific topic.
Believe it or not, the swath of books about John Kennedy is even larger. Upon the fiftieth anniversary of his death in 2013, the New York Times estimated the count at nearly 40,000, with a large percentage of that tally dedicated to his assassination.
Put them together and that’s well over 50,000 books covering a wide range of angles into both men, their presidencies, and their tragic deaths. Yet there’s never been one quite like this.
Even within the subset of books focusing on each president’s assassination, The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences remains distinct. Rather than walking through the compelling stories of those tragic events or exploring the motivations or even conspiratorial possibilities behind them, this book grabs hold of a thread running through both presidents and their respective assassinations: the long list of inexplicable similarities and coincidences between the two events. Which is one of those topics that most people are at least vaguely familiar with—one that’s fascinated both casual and serious history buffs for more than half a century.
Chapter by chapter, The Lincoln-Kennedy Coincidences delves into that list and its origins while following the general timeline of each assassination—flying at a different altitude than any of the previous books that have approached these subjects. Along the way, it branches off into side stories and subplots that shine a light into relatively unexplored pockets of each assassination and further tie the two together. From the compilation of the initial list to a campfire story of a curse cast upon the American presidency to the mind-bending metaphysical implications of what all these connections might suggest, this book blends serious historical research with a sprinkle of whimsy.
It began as a simple investigation of that list of eerie coincidences, setting out to decipher which ones are true, which aren’t, and how likely (or unlikely) those similarities really are. Over time and exploration, it branched out into something much more satisfying and evolved into what you’re about to read: a journey along a path filled with colorful people and places making up some truly compelling anecdotes that you won’t believe you haven’t heard.
The end result is a book that will likely feel partially familiar, partially brand new, and totally unlike any of the thousands that have come before.
November 2, 2018
The 10 Best Cleveland Sports Books
While Cleveland sports fans may not always be provided with the finest on-field talent to root for, we’ve been lucky enough over the years to be blessed with a handful of talented writers with the ability to capture the glory and/or agony of Cleveland sports on the page in an entertaining and meaningful fashion.
And I can tell you from experience that it isn’t always easy writing about Cleveland sports. It's much easier to write about a perpetual winner - those stories tend to tell themselves. It takes a true storyteller and wordsmith to weave a good tale out of suffering and/or unrequited sports love.
While I haven’t read every book about Cleveland sports that’s ever been written, I think I’ve consumed enough to be able to effectively separate the wheat from the chaff. Therefore, I present my list of the best 10 Cleveland sports books:
10. Our Tribe: A Baseball Memoir
By Terry Pluto
Simon & Schuster, 1999
Far more personal and emotional than Terry Pluto’s other works, this book intertwines an overall history of the Indians with the love he and his father shared for this star-crossed franchise. Particularly powerful were the stories of Pluto’s father, suffering from the aftereffects of a serious stroke and unable to communicate, watching his beloved Indians’ magical run through the 1997 playoffs and its ultimate tragic ending.
9. Glory for Sale: Fans, Dollars and the New NFL
By Jon Morgan
Bancroft Press, 1997
Though it reads like a horror novel, this is an essential work for anyone who remembers where they were the day Art Modell announced the Browns were moving to Baltimore. Jon Morgan carefully traces the origins of the move and doesn’t mince words in his criticisms of Modell, but also explains things from Baltimore’s point of view, outlining how that city was not only robbed of the Colts but also rooked by the NFL when it expanded in the early 1990s.
8. The Best Show in Football: The 1946-1955 Cleveland Browns Pro Football's Greatest Dynasty
By Andy Piascik
Taylor Trade Publishing, 2007
While much has been written about the dominating early Browns teams, Andy Piascik brings them and that era to life like never before, verbally colorizing the grainy black-and-white mental images we have of Otto Graham & Co. He makes – and subsequently supports – a handful of interesting proposals, the most pertinent expressed in the subtitle, along with a case for the legitimacy of the oft-dismissed All-American Football Conference and the candidacy of Browns’ WR Mac Speedie for the Hall of Fame.
7. Cavs from Fitch to Fratello: The Sometimes Miraculous, Often Hilarious Wild Ride of the Cleveland Cavaliers
By Joe Menzer and Burt Graeff
Sagamore Publishing, 1994
Published to coincide with the franchise’s 25th anniversary, this book does a wonderful job of telling the winding tale of the Cavs from their inception through the end of the Richfield Coliseum era, deliciously delving into topics generally glossed over by other writers and fans alike. Particularly interesting were the stories of the haphazard early days of the franchise and unbelievably horrific tales from the Ted Stepien era.
6. The Pitch That Killed
By Mike Sowell
Collier Books, 1989
Brilliantly researched and carefully written, this book not only examines the tragic day when Tribe second baseman Ray Chapman died after being hit in the head by a pitched ball, but delves into the effect it had on his teammates, particularly how it emotionally crippled Tribe manager Tris Speaker and how it ravaged the life of Carl Mays, who threw the ball that killed Chapman. It also illustrates the incredible tale of how the Indians overcame the loss of one of their most popular players to win a tight pennant race and triumph in a memorable World Series.
5. Epic Season: The 1948 American League Pennant Race
By David Kaiser
University of Massachusetts Press, 1998
You can’t truly appreciate the Indians’ last world title without reading this, which takes the reader on an incredibly detailed journey through arguably the greatest pennant race in baseball history. While not focusing exclusively on the Indians, the book’s impartial perspective further underlines the incredible achievement of that Tribe team, also illustrating the colorful characters – Bill Veeck, Satchel Paige, Joe DiMaggio, and Ted Williams, for example – that made 1948 such a special year.
4. Endless Summers: The Fall And Rise Of The Cleveland Indians
By Jack Torry
Diamond Communications, 1995
Far more organized and thorough than its subject matter, this book examines the woeful Indians of the second half of the 20th century from a business/front office perspective, delving into the numerous issues and characters that plagued the franchise for four decades. Far breezier and more enjoyable than you’d expect, this serves as a great companion piece to Terry Pluto’s more fan-centric views of the Indians’ long drought.
3. Sam, Sipe, & Company: The History of the Cleveland Browns
By Bill Levy
J.T. Zubal & P.D. Dole, 1981
Originally published in 1965 as Return to Glory following the Browns’ last NFL title, this book was updated and renamed to cash in on the cottage industry of the Kardiac Kids following the 1980 season and remains today the most thorough and complete account of the first four decades of Browns’ history ever written.
2. Forty-Eight Minutes: A Night in the Life of the NBA
By Terry Pluto and Bob Ryan
Macmillan, 1987
Perhaps the most underrated basketball book ever written, it breaks down one NBA game (a surprisingly thrilling contest between the young Cavs and the defending world-champion Celtics at Boston Garden in January of 1987) play-by-play and provides an incredible account of everything that goes into one night in pro basketball. From game plans to play diagrams to on- and off-court dialogue, this book is simply amazing – and includes an intriguing subplot illustrating all the behind-the-scenes drama that went into the Cavs’ pickup of unheard-of castoff Craig Ehlo that week.
1. Curse of Rocky Colavito: A Loving Look at a Thirty-Year Slump
By Terry Pluto
Simon & Schuster, 1994
Of Terry Pluto’s ever-growing library of Cleveland sports books, this was the first to draw national attention, and with good reason. With the heart of the fan and the wit and intelligence of the city’s best columnist, Pluto takes readers through the desert that was Indians’ baseball from 1960 through 1993, and through all the frustrating stories and disappointing characters, somehow makes you love the team even more.
And I can tell you from experience that it isn’t always easy writing about Cleveland sports. It's much easier to write about a perpetual winner - those stories tend to tell themselves. It takes a true storyteller and wordsmith to weave a good tale out of suffering and/or unrequited sports love.
While I haven’t read every book about Cleveland sports that’s ever been written, I think I’ve consumed enough to be able to effectively separate the wheat from the chaff. Therefore, I present my list of the best 10 Cleveland sports books:
10. Our Tribe: A Baseball Memoir
By Terry Pluto
Simon & Schuster, 1999
Far more personal and emotional than Terry Pluto’s other works, this book intertwines an overall history of the Indians with the love he and his father shared for this star-crossed franchise. Particularly powerful were the stories of Pluto’s father, suffering from the aftereffects of a serious stroke and unable to communicate, watching his beloved Indians’ magical run through the 1997 playoffs and its ultimate tragic ending.
9. Glory for Sale: Fans, Dollars and the New NFL
By Jon Morgan
Bancroft Press, 1997
Though it reads like a horror novel, this is an essential work for anyone who remembers where they were the day Art Modell announced the Browns were moving to Baltimore. Jon Morgan carefully traces the origins of the move and doesn’t mince words in his criticisms of Modell, but also explains things from Baltimore’s point of view, outlining how that city was not only robbed of the Colts but also rooked by the NFL when it expanded in the early 1990s.
8. The Best Show in Football: The 1946-1955 Cleveland Browns Pro Football's Greatest Dynasty
By Andy Piascik
Taylor Trade Publishing, 2007
While much has been written about the dominating early Browns teams, Andy Piascik brings them and that era to life like never before, verbally colorizing the grainy black-and-white mental images we have of Otto Graham & Co. He makes – and subsequently supports – a handful of interesting proposals, the most pertinent expressed in the subtitle, along with a case for the legitimacy of the oft-dismissed All-American Football Conference and the candidacy of Browns’ WR Mac Speedie for the Hall of Fame.
7. Cavs from Fitch to Fratello: The Sometimes Miraculous, Often Hilarious Wild Ride of the Cleveland Cavaliers
By Joe Menzer and Burt Graeff
Sagamore Publishing, 1994
Published to coincide with the franchise’s 25th anniversary, this book does a wonderful job of telling the winding tale of the Cavs from their inception through the end of the Richfield Coliseum era, deliciously delving into topics generally glossed over by other writers and fans alike. Particularly interesting were the stories of the haphazard early days of the franchise and unbelievably horrific tales from the Ted Stepien era.
6. The Pitch That Killed
By Mike Sowell
Collier Books, 1989
Brilliantly researched and carefully written, this book not only examines the tragic day when Tribe second baseman Ray Chapman died after being hit in the head by a pitched ball, but delves into the effect it had on his teammates, particularly how it emotionally crippled Tribe manager Tris Speaker and how it ravaged the life of Carl Mays, who threw the ball that killed Chapman. It also illustrates the incredible tale of how the Indians overcame the loss of one of their most popular players to win a tight pennant race and triumph in a memorable World Series.
5. Epic Season: The 1948 American League Pennant Race
By David Kaiser
University of Massachusetts Press, 1998
You can’t truly appreciate the Indians’ last world title without reading this, which takes the reader on an incredibly detailed journey through arguably the greatest pennant race in baseball history. While not focusing exclusively on the Indians, the book’s impartial perspective further underlines the incredible achievement of that Tribe team, also illustrating the colorful characters – Bill Veeck, Satchel Paige, Joe DiMaggio, and Ted Williams, for example – that made 1948 such a special year.
4. Endless Summers: The Fall And Rise Of The Cleveland Indians
By Jack Torry
Diamond Communications, 1995
Far more organized and thorough than its subject matter, this book examines the woeful Indians of the second half of the 20th century from a business/front office perspective, delving into the numerous issues and characters that plagued the franchise for four decades. Far breezier and more enjoyable than you’d expect, this serves as a great companion piece to Terry Pluto’s more fan-centric views of the Indians’ long drought.
3. Sam, Sipe, & Company: The History of the Cleveland Browns
By Bill Levy
J.T. Zubal & P.D. Dole, 1981
Originally published in 1965 as Return to Glory following the Browns’ last NFL title, this book was updated and renamed to cash in on the cottage industry of the Kardiac Kids following the 1980 season and remains today the most thorough and complete account of the first four decades of Browns’ history ever written.
2. Forty-Eight Minutes: A Night in the Life of the NBA
By Terry Pluto and Bob Ryan
Macmillan, 1987
Perhaps the most underrated basketball book ever written, it breaks down one NBA game (a surprisingly thrilling contest between the young Cavs and the defending world-champion Celtics at Boston Garden in January of 1987) play-by-play and provides an incredible account of everything that goes into one night in pro basketball. From game plans to play diagrams to on- and off-court dialogue, this book is simply amazing – and includes an intriguing subplot illustrating all the behind-the-scenes drama that went into the Cavs’ pickup of unheard-of castoff Craig Ehlo that week.
1. Curse of Rocky Colavito: A Loving Look at a Thirty-Year Slump
By Terry Pluto
Simon & Schuster, 1994
Of Terry Pluto’s ever-growing library of Cleveland sports books, this was the first to draw national attention, and with good reason. With the heart of the fan and the wit and intelligence of the city’s best columnist, Pluto takes readers through the desert that was Indians’ baseball from 1960 through 1993, and through all the frustrating stories and disappointing characters, somehow makes you love the team even more.
October 9, 2018
Revisiting the Ugly Rebirth of the Battle of Ohio
To commemorate the 19th anniversary of the primarily pathetic yet still memorable rekindling of the new Browns-Bengals rivalry in 1999 , here's an excerpt about that nightmare-come-to-life contest from Paul Brown's Ghost: How the Cleveland Browns and Cincinnati Bengals Are Haunted by the Man Who Created Them:
It was, unquestionably, the lowest point in the thirty-year history of the rivalry. Like watching two drunk uncles argue at Thanksgiving, both wrong and neither wearing pants.
The Browns had returned to the NFL in 1999 as an expansion team, albeit a truly miserable one. The hastily-put-together roster consisted of a collection of cast-offs and rookies that were comically overmatched against even an average team. But, as had been the case throughout the 1990s, the Cincinnati Bengals were no average team, embodied by a pitiful stretch going into 1999 in which they lost fourteen of fifteen games. Established though they might have been, the Bengals represented the new Browns’ best chance to capture their first win.
And here they were in Week Five: the 0–4 Browns hosting the 0–4 Bengals. The league’s worst offense against the league’s worst defense. The hopeless expansion team matching the chronically incompetent cellar dweller punchline for punchline. It was only mid-October, but it felt like the overall No. 1 draft pick was on the line.
Somewhere, Paul Brown was looking down at his former teams and wishing desperately to be looking at something else.
How had it come to this? How had the fierce Browns-Bengals contests of the early 1970s devolved into the cacophony of nonsense played out at brand-new Cleveland Browns Stadium on October 10, 1999? It was a game that was the “Yakety Sax” theme song away from a Benny Hill sketch. A game that, like the sun, hurt your eyes to look at.
But what made this game a true retrospective mess was the controversial subplot that surrounded the teams’ two completely overwhelmed rookie quarterbacks: Tim Couch and Akili Smith.
With intrigue swirling around the battle of winless teams like flies at a landfill, the contest actually turned out to be entertaining. The Bengals dominated total yardage and time of possession, but the Browns were in control much of the game. Smith directed a pair of long drives to begin his first start, but both stalled inside the Cleveland 10 and ended with field goals. The Browns took advantage and surged ahead on a clever fake field goal that saw kicker Phil Dawson scamper into the end zone for the team’s first rushing touchdown of the season. A Cincinnati fumble on the ensuing kickoff, aided by a long pass interference penalty a play later, set up a second score, and the Browns surged ahead 14-6—which would turn out to be the largest lead they would hold in their first fifteen games.
Smith’s first career touchdown pass just before the half capped another long drive and cut the margin to two, where it remained through the third quarter. A blocked Bengals punt led to a Cleveland field goal in the first minute of the fourth and a 17–12 Cleveland lead. The Browns’ first victory was within reach, particularly after Smith was stuffed for no gain on fourth-and-one from the Cincinnati 44 with 3:50 remaining. But having neither the experience nor the talent to land the knockout punch, the Browns were unable to run out the clock, and Smith and the Bengals regained possession at their own 20 with two minutes to play.
Thus began the first and last memorable moment of Akili Smith’s career. He completed four straight passes to drive the Bengals into Cleveland territory, the last of which converted a do-or-die fourth-and-four at the Cleveland 29 with thirty-two seconds left. Smith’s next pass fell incomplete, but the Browns were penalized for pass interference, giving Cincinnati a first down at the Cleveland 2. After two incompletions, Smith lobbed an arching pass into the end zone that Carl Pickens reeled in for the winning touchdown with nine seconds remaining.
Smith pounded his chest, cupped his hand to his ear, and ran his finger across his neck in a slit-throat gesture toward the stands and the Browns bench in an extended disco version of taunting the home crowd and the Cleveland franchise in general.
Afterward, Smith compared the game to the Super Bowl, and columnists in both cities declared the rivalry revived and potentially as good as ever. In reality, the Browns had simply remained winless and the Bengals had merely managed to avoid the embarrassment of losing to an expansion team—though just barely.
Paul Brown's Ghost is now available everywhere in print and as an ebook.
It was, unquestionably, the lowest point in the thirty-year history of the rivalry. Like watching two drunk uncles argue at Thanksgiving, both wrong and neither wearing pants.
The Browns had returned to the NFL in 1999 as an expansion team, albeit a truly miserable one. The hastily-put-together roster consisted of a collection of cast-offs and rookies that were comically overmatched against even an average team. But, as had been the case throughout the 1990s, the Cincinnati Bengals were no average team, embodied by a pitiful stretch going into 1999 in which they lost fourteen of fifteen games. Established though they might have been, the Bengals represented the new Browns’ best chance to capture their first win.
And here they were in Week Five: the 0–4 Browns hosting the 0–4 Bengals. The league’s worst offense against the league’s worst defense. The hopeless expansion team matching the chronically incompetent cellar dweller punchline for punchline. It was only mid-October, but it felt like the overall No. 1 draft pick was on the line.
Somewhere, Paul Brown was looking down at his former teams and wishing desperately to be looking at something else.
How had it come to this? How had the fierce Browns-Bengals contests of the early 1970s devolved into the cacophony of nonsense played out at brand-new Cleveland Browns Stadium on October 10, 1999? It was a game that was the “Yakety Sax” theme song away from a Benny Hill sketch. A game that, like the sun, hurt your eyes to look at.
But what made this game a true retrospective mess was the controversial subplot that surrounded the teams’ two completely overwhelmed rookie quarterbacks: Tim Couch and Akili Smith.
With intrigue swirling around the battle of winless teams like flies at a landfill, the contest actually turned out to be entertaining. The Bengals dominated total yardage and time of possession, but the Browns were in control much of the game. Smith directed a pair of long drives to begin his first start, but both stalled inside the Cleveland 10 and ended with field goals. The Browns took advantage and surged ahead on a clever fake field goal that saw kicker Phil Dawson scamper into the end zone for the team’s first rushing touchdown of the season. A Cincinnati fumble on the ensuing kickoff, aided by a long pass interference penalty a play later, set up a second score, and the Browns surged ahead 14-6—which would turn out to be the largest lead they would hold in their first fifteen games.
Smith’s first career touchdown pass just before the half capped another long drive and cut the margin to two, where it remained through the third quarter. A blocked Bengals punt led to a Cleveland field goal in the first minute of the fourth and a 17–12 Cleveland lead. The Browns’ first victory was within reach, particularly after Smith was stuffed for no gain on fourth-and-one from the Cincinnati 44 with 3:50 remaining. But having neither the experience nor the talent to land the knockout punch, the Browns were unable to run out the clock, and Smith and the Bengals regained possession at their own 20 with two minutes to play.
Thus began the first and last memorable moment of Akili Smith’s career. He completed four straight passes to drive the Bengals into Cleveland territory, the last of which converted a do-or-die fourth-and-four at the Cleveland 29 with thirty-two seconds left. Smith’s next pass fell incomplete, but the Browns were penalized for pass interference, giving Cincinnati a first down at the Cleveland 2. After two incompletions, Smith lobbed an arching pass into the end zone that Carl Pickens reeled in for the winning touchdown with nine seconds remaining.
Smith pounded his chest, cupped his hand to his ear, and ran his finger across his neck in a slit-throat gesture toward the stands and the Browns bench in an extended disco version of taunting the home crowd and the Cleveland franchise in general.
Afterward, Smith compared the game to the Super Bowl, and columnists in both cities declared the rivalry revived and potentially as good as ever. In reality, the Browns had simply remained winless and the Bengals had merely managed to avoid the embarrassment of losing to an expansion team—though just barely.
Paul Brown's Ghost is now available everywhere in print and as an ebook.
October 2, 2018
How Publishing a Book is Almost Nothing Like Having a Baby
I don’t want to compare publishing a book to having a baby, but here I go.
Giving birth (which, full disclosure, I’ve been ringside for but not actually experienced) certainly gets the nod in terms of physical achievement and emotional payoff.
But damn if there aren’t similarities.
Primarily the long wait. You reach a point in both enterprises at which the work is done and all you can do is sit and wait for arrival. Like maturity or the 8:15 commuter train — it gets here when it gets here.
You spend months preparing and then suddenly, one morning, a switch is flipped on Amazon and kaboom — a baby.
For me, that means Paul Brown's Ghost: How the Cleveland Browns and Cincinnati Bengals Are Haunted by the Man Who Created Them has officially entered the world at 13.6 ounces and 208 pages. As the proud author, I’m now wandering around the proverbial waiting room handing out Kindles and cigars and talking to anybody who wants to listen about how all this happened and where it can be bought (and there, I now realize, are two more key differences between writing a book and bringing a human being into the world).
That’s about where the string runs out on this hastily-put-together analogy. Whereas with a baby this is the moment that the real work begins, with a book, as gratifying as the publication date is, it’s sort of the end of the road. Sure, there are marketing and promotional responsibilities to fulfill, and as the writer, you’ll follow the book’s progress for years. But it’s primarily a front-loaded effort. It’s less a chapter than an epilogue.
Yet it also represents something akin to a starting gun.
Within the next few days, the proud author, basking in the glory of the achievement and seeing his or her baby on the shelves (yet another key difference, I desperately hope) quickly feels his or her mind turning to the inevitable author’s question:
What’s next?
Giving birth (which, full disclosure, I’ve been ringside for but not actually experienced) certainly gets the nod in terms of physical achievement and emotional payoff.
But damn if there aren’t similarities.
Primarily the long wait. You reach a point in both enterprises at which the work is done and all you can do is sit and wait for arrival. Like maturity or the 8:15 commuter train — it gets here when it gets here.
You spend months preparing and then suddenly, one morning, a switch is flipped on Amazon and kaboom — a baby.
For me, that means Paul Brown's Ghost: How the Cleveland Browns and Cincinnati Bengals Are Haunted by the Man Who Created Them has officially entered the world at 13.6 ounces and 208 pages. As the proud author, I’m now wandering around the proverbial waiting room handing out Kindles and cigars and talking to anybody who wants to listen about how all this happened and where it can be bought (and there, I now realize, are two more key differences between writing a book and bringing a human being into the world).
That’s about where the string runs out on this hastily-put-together analogy. Whereas with a baby this is the moment that the real work begins, with a book, as gratifying as the publication date is, it’s sort of the end of the road. Sure, there are marketing and promotional responsibilities to fulfill, and as the writer, you’ll follow the book’s progress for years. But it’s primarily a front-loaded effort. It’s less a chapter than an epilogue.
Yet it also represents something akin to a starting gun.
Within the next few days, the proud author, basking in the glory of the achievement and seeing his or her baby on the shelves (yet another key difference, I desperately hope) quickly feels his or her mind turning to the inevitable author’s question:
What’s next?
September 27, 2018
Making a Great Book Out of Comic, Pumpkin-Orange Failure
There’s a point — and I’m not quite sure where or when it is — that failure becomes interesting.
It sounds counterintuitive in oh so many ways, but the kernel of its truth is undeniable. I’ve written about plenty of sports failures over the years and read about plenty more in a bouquet of memorable books about miserable years by miserable teams.
My most recent sojourn into incompetence is The Yucks: Two Years in Tampa with the Losingest Team in NFL History by Jason Vuic, a delightful romp through the hellscape that was the first two seasons of the pumpkin-orange Tampa Bay Buccaneers in the mid-1970s — defined by the Bucs’ 26-game losing streak to open franchise history.
Granted, now that the dyspeptic Cleveland Browns are off the schneid after 20 straight winless endeavors, the 1976-77 Buccaneers’ place in history remains secure (an ironic relief to all who participated, I’m sure). But both the Browns’ nearly two-year stretch and Vuic’s book had me thinking: when does losing become…I don’t know…cute?
Chicago Cubs cute. Neville Longbottom cute. Charlie friggin’ Brown cute.
But even there lies an important distinction. Long-term heartbreak is one thing. Losing 26 straight games over nearly two full football seasons is quite another.
Maybe, as The Yucks’ 2016 publication date suggests, the cute factor doesn’t settle in until years later, when, from a safe distance from the fallout that was a biblically epic losing streak, we can look back and laugh. Same with the Browns, I suppose. Maybe a few years from now, when they’re basking in the glory of back-to-back 4-12 seasons, Cleveland fans will be able to reflect on 1-15 followed by 0-16 and chuckle about the bad old days and just how far their sputtering jalopy of a franchise has come.
Or maybe not. As Vuic explains, even though the Buccaneers went on to win a Super Bowl a quarter-century later, followed by another miserable stretch that perhaps in some ways eclipsed the abomination that was Tampa’s first two NFL seasons, this team will likely always be remembered for its dazzlingly terrible debut…all while wearing the pumpkin-orange uniforms with a maritime gadabout on the helmet holding a butter knife between his teeth.
Maybe if the Bucs someday become the New England Patriots and win five or six Super Bowls, that would supplant those first few years in the collective sports unconscious.
Odds are that won’t happen, and neither will anyone write a better book about how a crummy team was built and forcibly thrust upon the world.
It sounds counterintuitive in oh so many ways, but the kernel of its truth is undeniable. I’ve written about plenty of sports failures over the years and read about plenty more in a bouquet of memorable books about miserable years by miserable teams.
My most recent sojourn into incompetence is The Yucks: Two Years in Tampa with the Losingest Team in NFL History by Jason Vuic, a delightful romp through the hellscape that was the first two seasons of the pumpkin-orange Tampa Bay Buccaneers in the mid-1970s — defined by the Bucs’ 26-game losing streak to open franchise history.
Granted, now that the dyspeptic Cleveland Browns are off the schneid after 20 straight winless endeavors, the 1976-77 Buccaneers’ place in history remains secure (an ironic relief to all who participated, I’m sure). But both the Browns’ nearly two-year stretch and Vuic’s book had me thinking: when does losing become…I don’t know…cute?
Chicago Cubs cute. Neville Longbottom cute. Charlie friggin’ Brown cute.
But even there lies an important distinction. Long-term heartbreak is one thing. Losing 26 straight games over nearly two full football seasons is quite another.
Maybe, as The Yucks’ 2016 publication date suggests, the cute factor doesn’t settle in until years later, when, from a safe distance from the fallout that was a biblically epic losing streak, we can look back and laugh. Same with the Browns, I suppose. Maybe a few years from now, when they’re basking in the glory of back-to-back 4-12 seasons, Cleveland fans will be able to reflect on 1-15 followed by 0-16 and chuckle about the bad old days and just how far their sputtering jalopy of a franchise has come.
Or maybe not. As Vuic explains, even though the Buccaneers went on to win a Super Bowl a quarter-century later, followed by another miserable stretch that perhaps in some ways eclipsed the abomination that was Tampa’s first two NFL seasons, this team will likely always be remembered for its dazzlingly terrible debut…all while wearing the pumpkin-orange uniforms with a maritime gadabout on the helmet holding a butter knife between his teeth.
Maybe if the Bucs someday become the New England Patriots and win five or six Super Bowls, that would supplant those first few years in the collective sports unconscious.
Odds are that won’t happen, and neither will anyone write a better book about how a crummy team was built and forcibly thrust upon the world.
September 16, 2018
Celebrating Perhaps the Nuttiest Game in NFL History
To commemorate the 11th anniversary of the 51-45 Browns-Bengals 2007 brain-melter, here's an excerpt from my latest book, Paul Brown's Ghost:
Into Cleveland rolled the Bengals, who had defeated the Browns five straight times and were coming off a rousing victory over defending division champ Baltimore. And, just like the previous week, the Browns defense permitted a long touchdown drive on the first series of the game, followed by a bumbling three-and-out by the wayward Cleveland offense. Another blowout appeared imminent.
Instead, the Browns and Bengals reenacted the bizarre fireworks show they’d put on three years before. The teams combined for five touchdowns in the second quarter, including three scoring passes from Anderson, who, in his fourth career start, had somehow become the unlikely gunslinger going eyeball-to-eyeball with Carson Palmer. Anderson threw two more touchdown tosses in the second half, giving him five for the day, and with newly acquired running back Jamal Lewis exploding for 215 yards on the ground—the team’s highest tally in forty-four years—the Browns topped the fifty-point mark for the first time in eighteen years and built a 51–38 lead with under six minutes left.
Naturally, the Bengals scored to narrow the margin on Palmer’s sixth touchdown pass of the afternoon, then regained possession with a minute left with a chance to pull out a victory. But, just as things had ended in Cincinnati in 2004, the Browns came up with an interception that secured a wild and woolly 51–45 triumph—arguably the nuttiest in team history. “This game,” Enquirer columnist Paul Daugherty wrote, “was a great reason smart people don’t bet on NFL games.”
While the total number of points in Crazy Bowl II was slightly behind the initial encounter, the other statistics surpassed it, essentially rewriting each team’s media guide. The teams combined for twelve touchdowns, fifty-six first downs, and a ludicrous 1,085 total yards.
Just as memorable as the victory was the aftermath. It lit a fire under the previously lifeless Browns, and they embarked upon their finest season since their return to the NFL.
Paul Brown's Ghost hits shelves Oct. 2. Pre-order now.
Into Cleveland rolled the Bengals, who had defeated the Browns five straight times and were coming off a rousing victory over defending division champ Baltimore. And, just like the previous week, the Browns defense permitted a long touchdown drive on the first series of the game, followed by a bumbling three-and-out by the wayward Cleveland offense. Another blowout appeared imminent.
Instead, the Browns and Bengals reenacted the bizarre fireworks show they’d put on three years before. The teams combined for five touchdowns in the second quarter, including three scoring passes from Anderson, who, in his fourth career start, had somehow become the unlikely gunslinger going eyeball-to-eyeball with Carson Palmer. Anderson threw two more touchdown tosses in the second half, giving him five for the day, and with newly acquired running back Jamal Lewis exploding for 215 yards on the ground—the team’s highest tally in forty-four years—the Browns topped the fifty-point mark for the first time in eighteen years and built a 51–38 lead with under six minutes left.
Naturally, the Bengals scored to narrow the margin on Palmer’s sixth touchdown pass of the afternoon, then regained possession with a minute left with a chance to pull out a victory. But, just as things had ended in Cincinnati in 2004, the Browns came up with an interception that secured a wild and woolly 51–45 triumph—arguably the nuttiest in team history. “This game,” Enquirer columnist Paul Daugherty wrote, “was a great reason smart people don’t bet on NFL games.”
While the total number of points in Crazy Bowl II was slightly behind the initial encounter, the other statistics surpassed it, essentially rewriting each team’s media guide. The teams combined for twelve touchdowns, fifty-six first downs, and a ludicrous 1,085 total yards.
Just as memorable as the victory was the aftermath. It lit a fire under the previously lifeless Browns, and they embarked upon their finest season since their return to the NFL.
Paul Brown's Ghost hits shelves Oct. 2. Pre-order now.
September 13, 2018
What Back to the Future Taught Us About New Books
Remember the end of Back to the Future?
Sure, as Sally Struthers would say, we all do. Mr. Fusion, Doc Brown dressed like Blade Runner Ronald McDonald, and the natural beauty of a DeLorean taking flight.
But the part of the last sequence of BTTF that always stuck with me was a minute before that. Track-suited auto-detailer Biff comes lumbering into the house carrying a cardboard box. "Mr. McFly, this just arrived!" he cries unrealistically happily for a man who, seconds before, was just starting a second coat of wax.
The box is opened and we see a stack of books. It's copies of George McFly's first novel - A Match Made in Space - featuring on the cover a radiation-suited "Darth Vader" from planet Vulcan apparently about to crack together the skulls of a pair of mannequin-looking teenagers who may or may not be wearing pajamas.
George grabs the top copy and hands it to Michael J. Fox. "See, like I always told you," George says, "if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything."
It's mostly a throwaway moment that simply tells us that in addition to playing tennis on Saturday mornings, George McFly has become a successful writer in this more upbeat version of 1985. But for as quick as it is, it stuck with me.
Even as a kid, I imagined what that would feel like. Not traveling through time, but having something so magnificent and permanent as a book you wrote yourself just show up at your house one day.
I've gotten to play that scene out several times now, and it never gets old. However long it look, however much frustration you felt along the journey of writing this thing, that moment where you crack open that box makes it all worth it.
I thought of this again just this week when the box arrived with copies of my latest book, Paul Brown's Ghost, which hits shelves Oct. 2.
I certainly hope I never reach the point where that moment doesn't light me up. And I hope that I'll always appreciate it.
And that I think about how cool it is that this thing in this box will be out in the world for anybody to read.
And that I think about how rare it is in life to have one payoff moment for a lot of hard work.
And, naturally, that I think about the end of Back to the Future.
Sure, as Sally Struthers would say, we all do. Mr. Fusion, Doc Brown dressed like Blade Runner Ronald McDonald, and the natural beauty of a DeLorean taking flight.
But the part of the last sequence of BTTF that always stuck with me was a minute before that. Track-suited auto-detailer Biff comes lumbering into the house carrying a cardboard box. "Mr. McFly, this just arrived!" he cries unrealistically happily for a man who, seconds before, was just starting a second coat of wax.
The box is opened and we see a stack of books. It's copies of George McFly's first novel - A Match Made in Space - featuring on the cover a radiation-suited "Darth Vader" from planet Vulcan apparently about to crack together the skulls of a pair of mannequin-looking teenagers who may or may not be wearing pajamas.
George grabs the top copy and hands it to Michael J. Fox. "See, like I always told you," George says, "if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything."
It's mostly a throwaway moment that simply tells us that in addition to playing tennis on Saturday mornings, George McFly has become a successful writer in this more upbeat version of 1985. But for as quick as it is, it stuck with me.
Even as a kid, I imagined what that would feel like. Not traveling through time, but having something so magnificent and permanent as a book you wrote yourself just show up at your house one day.
I've gotten to play that scene out several times now, and it never gets old. However long it look, however much frustration you felt along the journey of writing this thing, that moment where you crack open that box makes it all worth it.
I thought of this again just this week when the box arrived with copies of my latest book, Paul Brown's Ghost, which hits shelves Oct. 2.
I certainly hope I never reach the point where that moment doesn't light me up. And I hope that I'll always appreciate it.
And that I think about how cool it is that this thing in this box will be out in the world for anybody to read.
And that I think about how rare it is in life to have one payoff moment for a lot of hard work.
And, naturally, that I think about the end of Back to the Future.
May 21, 2015
Great Summer for Making-Of Books
As much as I can't wait for my latest book, The Making of Major League, to hit shelves, I'm almost as excited to get my hands on the other "making of" books coming out this summer.
First and foremost, I'm super-jazzed for We Don't Need Roads: The Making of the Back to the Future Trilogy by Caseen Gaines (June 23). I've always loved those movies and figure I'll tear through this book in about a day and a half.
Also interested to check out American Hauntings: The True Stories Behind Hollywood's Scariest Movies From The Exorcist to The Conjuring by Robert E. Bartholomew and Joe Nickell (June 30). Perfect timing to coincide with the Poltergeist remake out next week.
There was really no reason that I should have liked Clueless when it came out 20 years ago, but it certainly grew on me and I wound up really appreciating it. As If? The Oral History of Clueless as Told by Amy Heckerling and the Rest of the Crew by Jen Chaney (July 7) should be an interesting read that will help me understand my unexpected love for the movie.
Finally, there have been a lot of books cranked out in recent years about the Coen brothers and their films, but The Big Lebowski: The Making of a Coen Brothers Film by William Preston Robertson (June 22) looks like it might be one of the best.
While there are certainly plenty of new movies to get excited about at theaters this summer, we film buffs also have some great books to look forward to.
The Making of Major League: A Juuuust a Bit Inside Look at the Classic Baseball Comedy
We Don't Need Roads: The Making of the Back to the Future Trilogy
As If!: The Oral History of Clueless as told by Amy Heckerling and the Cast and Crew
The Big Lebowski: The Making of a Coen Brothers Film
First and foremost, I'm super-jazzed for We Don't Need Roads: The Making of the Back to the Future Trilogy by Caseen Gaines (June 23). I've always loved those movies and figure I'll tear through this book in about a day and a half.
Also interested to check out American Hauntings: The True Stories Behind Hollywood's Scariest Movies From The Exorcist to The Conjuring by Robert E. Bartholomew and Joe Nickell (June 30). Perfect timing to coincide with the Poltergeist remake out next week.
There was really no reason that I should have liked Clueless when it came out 20 years ago, but it certainly grew on me and I wound up really appreciating it. As If? The Oral History of Clueless as Told by Amy Heckerling and the Rest of the Crew by Jen Chaney (July 7) should be an interesting read that will help me understand my unexpected love for the movie.
Finally, there have been a lot of books cranked out in recent years about the Coen brothers and their films, but The Big Lebowski: The Making of a Coen Brothers Film by William Preston Robertson (June 22) looks like it might be one of the best.
While there are certainly plenty of new movies to get excited about at theaters this summer, we film buffs also have some great books to look forward to.
The Making of Major League: A Juuuust a Bit Inside Look at the Classic Baseball Comedy
We Don't Need Roads: The Making of the Back to the Future Trilogy
As If!: The Oral History of Clueless as told by Amy Heckerling and the Cast and Crew
The Big Lebowski: The Making of a Coen Brothers Film
November 3, 2014
Remembering Bob Feller
November 3 marks 96 years since Bob Feller's birth, and I can't help but wonder how many current fans don't have much appreciation for him.
With one of the best fastballs the game has ever seen, Feller was probably the most dominating pitcher of the late 1930s and 1940s. He died in 2010 while still serving as a dignified emissary of the game he loved. There are a handful of really good biographies out there I recommend, primarily since his is such a great story.
At the heart of it is this: just as he was about to enter the prime of his career, already with six big-league seasons under his belt by the age of 21, Feller stepped away to fight in World War II. He missed the next three full seasons and most of a fourth, then returned and more/less picked up where he left off.
He finished with 266 victories, currently tied for 37th all-time, but you gotta figure he would have picked up almost 100 more if not for the war, and that would put him in the top 10.
Just an amazing example of self-sacrifice, not just for an athlete, but for anyone. Fitting, I suppose, that his birthday comes just a week before Veterans Day.
Happy Birthday, Rapid Robert...wherever you are.
With one of the best fastballs the game has ever seen, Feller was probably the most dominating pitcher of the late 1930s and 1940s. He died in 2010 while still serving as a dignified emissary of the game he loved. There are a handful of really good biographies out there I recommend, primarily since his is such a great story.
At the heart of it is this: just as he was about to enter the prime of his career, already with six big-league seasons under his belt by the age of 21, Feller stepped away to fight in World War II. He missed the next three full seasons and most of a fourth, then returned and more/less picked up where he left off.
He finished with 266 victories, currently tied for 37th all-time, but you gotta figure he would have picked up almost 100 more if not for the war, and that would put him in the top 10.
Just an amazing example of self-sacrifice, not just for an athlete, but for anyone. Fitting, I suppose, that his birthday comes just a week before Veterans Day.
Happy Birthday, Rapid Robert...wherever you are.
