The ring's the thing

Some win it quickly. Magic Johnson won his first as a rookie, as did Bill Russell. Larry Bird won it in his sophomore season.

Some take a bit more time. Michael Jordan won it in his seventh season. Shaquille O'Neal and Wilt Chamberlain in their eighth.

Some take the balance of their careers. Kevin Garnett had to wait until his 13th season. Clyde Drexler until his 12th.

But all of them have hoisted the Larry O'Brien NBA Championship Trophy.

For LeBron James, an NBA world championship is perhaps the only major accomplishment -- other than winning the NBA MVP award -- that the 23-year-old has yet to achieve.

Entering his sixth season, LeBron has won a scoring title, an Olympic gold medal, a conference title and, somewhere way back in the yellowing pages of history, the 2004 Rookie of the Year award.

It's been repeated again and again, but it bears yet another mention: LeBron was the most-hyped, most-ballyhooed basketball player in history at age 18. A cynical public and skeptical media waited for him to fall flat on his face on the biggest stages, to be exposed as an overblown creation of the spotlight. Yet he not only lived up to the hype, he has exceeded it.

Those among us who were waiting for him to turn into Darius Miles would have been amazed if he ended up as good as 2003 NBA Draft classmate Carmelo Anthony, who led Syracuse to a national title in his one year of college ball. Anthony is really good. LeBron is even better. Along with perhaps only Kobe Bryant, he is the talent that could define this generation of professional basketball.

But virtually all great players have the thing LeBron doesn't have yet. They have rings. And as long as LeBron remains beneath the NBA's summit, his equation of greatness won't be total.

It is possible to not win a ring and still be viewed as great. John Stockton and Karl Malone never won an NBA title. Dan Marino never won a Super Bowl and Ted Williams never won a World Series. They're all legends in their sports. But the list of all-time greats without at least one title to their credit is short. Even then, if you think of Malone, Marino, Alex Rodriguez, what is the first thought that normally comes to mind?

"Great? sure. But they've never won the big one."

What does it all mean? As much as we want LeBron to win a title for the city of Cleveland and his hometown of Akron, as much as we want him to live up to his status of "The Chosen One" and end our nearly half-century title drought, this is as much a personal quest for LeBron as it is a quest to win a championship for the region.

As The Plain Dealer's Brian Windhorst wrote on Sunday, in addition to LeBron's place in history, there are very real financial ramifications for LeBron if he remains ringless for the balance of his career.

No matter if he plays in Cleveland, New York, Los Angeles, Memphis or anywhere else, his jersey, and the apparel that carries his name and logo, will continue to lag in sales behind Bryant, Garnett and others who have won rings.

LeBron has stated that he wants to become a global icon. No matter how much business savvy he has, how many tips he gets from investment guru Warren Buffett, how many individual accolades he collects on the basketball court, the most important ingredient will always be that NBA world championship -- actually, multiple championships if LeBron wants to get in on the conversation for greatest player ever.

Without rings, his talent will be admired, but his image will never be totally embraced outside of Ohio.

But that could all change this year. This season could be the first season of the rest of LeBron's career. Because this is the first year of the LeBron Era that the Cavaliers have a team capable of winning an NBA title.

It would be too harsh to call the Cavs' 2007 NBA Finals appearance a fluke, but it was the product of LeBron's unreal finish to Game 5 against Detroit, Daniel Gibson's Game 6 outburst and the Pistons' regression from title contender to also-ran. It was an upset, and the Spurs proved that in no uncertain terms by demolishing the Cavs in the Finals.

This year, if the Cavs overcome Boston, Detroit, Orlando and whoever else the East throws at them, and advances to their second NBA Finals in three years, it won't be a fluke. And if it's an upset, it will be a mild one.

As it stands, this Cavs team has the talent to beat any team in the East in a playoff series, and might be able to handle the West champ in the Finals depending on the circumstances and who has homecourt advantage. If Danny Ferry can turn Wally Szczerbiak's expiring deal into a meaningful acquisition before the trade deadline in February, the Cavs might even become title favorites.

The pieces are in place now more than they've ever been. For a player with the superlative skills of LeBron, a lack of a supporting cast is no longer a barrier to hardware. It all comes down to desire, how much effort LeBron wants to give through 82 regular season games to set up a high playoff seed and subsequent title run. If LeBron is motivated and can motivate his teammates, and if everyone stays mostly healthy, this might be the best chance Cleveland has had for a title since the Indians of the mid-'90s.

This might also be the year that LeBron turns the corner toward true greatness. The kind that is measured in gold.

Taking sides

Unless you've been living in isolation, you know a fracture is threatening to end the Browns season before the first flake of snow hits the ground.

It's the worst kind of fracture. It can't be healed with a cast or a splint. This fracture is between Phil Savage and Kellen Winslow, and it's become a full-blown sideshow upstaging the team's preparation for Sunday's game in Jacksonville, a game the Browns desperately need to win.

To summarize, this all started immediately after the Browns' 14-11 loss to the Redskins last Sunday. In an interview with The Plain Dealer, Winslow accused the Browns of attempting to hide his second staph infection from public view to protect the organization's reputation. He expressed dismay that Savage did not call him during his stay in the hospital the week previous, and said he felt that the Browns were treating him like a "piece of meat."

Romeo Crennel tried to talk Winslow into a retraction on the flight back to Cleveland, but Winslow maintained a hardline stance, drawing a one-game suspension from Browns management. The suspension was lifted late Saturday, but Winslow still reportedly won't play Sunday.

In one sequence of events, we sampled a buffet of embarrassment that seems to summarize the train wreck that has been the Cleveland Browns over the past four years: Winslow, a player with a long history of maturity problems (and apparent anger issues) spouting off to the media about a problem that should have been handled internally; yet another failed attempt by Crennel to rein in one of his players; a long-simmering feud between Savage and Winslow finally boiling over in front of a national audience, all wrapped in the package of the ongoing staph infection saga.

This will all likely end with Winslow's departure from the team over the coming offseason. With Steve Heiden, Darnell Dinkins and Martin Rucker, the Browns are deep at the tight end position, so Savage probably feels like he doesn't need to put up with Winslow, whose deficiencies as a blocker and deterioriating knees will likely render him an oversized possession receiver in the next three-to-five years.

The fans and media, of course, are taking sides in this battle. But as frequently occurs in the court of public opinion, the verdicts handed out have a lot to do with the direction of the prevailing winds.

Coming off a disappointing loss in Washington that dropped the Browns to 2-4, putting a highly-anticipated season on the brink of irrelevance, fans are quick to spew their venom at Savage. It was Savage, the overrated GM, who got the Browns into this mess with his spotty drafts, blind loyalty to Crennel and curious obsession with Derek Anderson. It is Savage who can't control the Browns' staph epidemic, and now he's trying to sweep it under the rug. It's Savage who just took a machete to his nasal cartilage to spite his face, suspending arguably his best offensive player for a pivotal game, on the road, against a playoff-caliber team.

Right now, Winslow is telling it like it is, shining some much-needed light into the dark, mold-encrusted corners of the Browns organization, and taking one on the chin from the Browns' cloak-and-dagger inner sanctum for doing so.

But if the Browns win in Jacksonville, the song might change just a little bit. If Anderson, deprived of one of his crutches, is forced to spread the ball around to five or six different receivers, resulting in a balanced attack and three offensive touchdowns in a repeat of the Giants game, the "Down With Savage!" movement might lose some steam. The new slogan for the Ravens rematch will be "Kellen Who?"

Ten different people might give you 10 different takes on the Savage-Winslow rift, but this much can be safely assumed: If the Browns were 4-2, the majority of the fan base would be telling Kellen to shut up, put the team first and get to the playoffs. Savage, the playoff team architect, would be the sympathetic figure far more than he is right now.

In the end, blame always boils down to wins and losses. Fans change. The media changes. Winslow and Savage really don't. Winslow is always going to have a large dose of hotheadedness running through his veins. It's part of what makes him such a fierce competitor at football. But it also makes him prone to spouting off when he's unhappy.

When Winslow publicly stated a desire for a new contract just before the Pro Bowl in February, he was all but laughed off by the Northeast Ohio masses. Coming off a 10-6 season, when things were finally going well for the Browns, the tight end who nearly killed himself in a motorcycle crash, the tight end who should be grateful for even having an NFL career, was putting his interests ahead of the team. It looked like an obscenely selfish act.

Now that the Browns are back to swimming among the league's bottom-feeders, Savage looks like the selfish one in light of Winslow's comments. Savage looks like the one who is trying to salvage his own reputation by allegedly telling Winslow to clam up about staph.

If Savage did relay such a message to Winslow, that does look suspicious. Winslow has a right to his opinion, even if it's not popular. If he truly believes something needs to be said about the way the Browns are handling players with staph infections, and he's willing to take the heat for speaking out against his employer, the Bill of Rights guarantees him that freedom.

But beyond that, I find it hard to sympathize with Winslow. I find it hard to believe that Winslow was broken up that he didn't receive a call from Savage while in the hospital, especially since he received a call from his direct boss, Romeo Crennel.

I find it hard to side with a guy who accuses his superiors of treating him like a piece of meat. I was willing to go along with what Winslow had to say, but he lost me at that point. The Browns hired their offensive coordinator in part because of his long-standing relationship with Winslow. He's been at or among the leaders in tight end receptions for the past two years. All this after a broken leg and the aforementioned crotch rocket stunt crash claimed the first two years of his career.

On the "Ridiculous Comment By A Professional Athlete In Need Of Some Perspective" scale, Winslow's remark ranks right up there with Latrell Sprewell turning down the Minnesota Timberwolves' multimillion-dollar offer by saying "I have a family to feed."

I do, however, find it completely believable that Winslow's outburst has a lot to do with his perception that he's being phased out by the Browns. There has probably been some simmering animosity between Savage and Winslow dating to his motorcycle crash, but while we as fans dismissed Winslow's contract demands with little more than a wave of the arm, Savage treated it like a warning shot over the bow.

When Savage dealt an '09 draft pick to move up and select Rucker out of Missouri several months later, it was Savage's way of returning fire, of telling Winslow that the organization wouldn't grind to a halt if he decided to hold out.

Winslow didn't hold out and was one of the few positives in an otherwise dismal preseason for the Browns. But then came the stunner against the Giants earlier this month with Winslow on the shelf. As the Browns cruised to a massive upset with Heiden and Dinkins playing significant roles, Winslow might have felt expendable for the first time in a long time.

Winslow's gamble that the Browns' offense wouldn't be effective without him blew up in his face, and he didn't like it. So when he ended up in the hospital with another staph infection, adding injury to insult, he rushed his comeback, had an ineffective game against the Redskins, then lashed out, leading to this past week's circus.

And that's where we stand. A relationship between the general manager and one of his star players that is likely damaged beyond repair. A tumultuous tenure for Winslow in Cleveland appears headed for a tumultuous end in the near future.

In the end, who takes the hero role and villain role in the history books will depend upon whether the Browns win or lose. For his sake, Savage had better hope he's doing the right thing by phasing Winslow out of the Browns' future.

Rebounding from depression

"I am an island."

This is what depression does to you.

Depression isolates you. No matter what kind of support system you have in place, how many family members and friends would do anything to help you, the feeling of isolation, the feeling that no one on Earth understands you, understands your problems, that's the constant, bitter taste in your mouth. You feel like you're alone. Sometimes you wonder if the fight's even worth fighting.

At least that's the way it has been for me.

I'm 29, and I've dealt with depression and anxiety in many forms since as far back as I can remember. So when Cavs guard Delonte West took the bold step of sitting down in front of reporters and coming clean about why he had been absent from the team for nearly two weeks, I figured it was time for me to do the same.

I've never been diagnosed as clinically depressed. I've never had my specific set of symptoms neatly packaged into a condition with a name. As I've come to realize over the young-adult years of my life, I'm like a lot of people dealing with emotional issues. That is to say, I have a mish-mash of symptoms, some of which come and go, some of them which might need treatment, some of which might simply be traits of my personality.

Depression is messy and confusing like that. You don't know what part of yourself to fight, and what part to accept. If you're quiet and tend to keep to yourself in large social gatherings, is it a symptom, or just the way you are? After all, the world is full of people who exist all across the personality spectrum. Some are outgoing and jovial. Some are introverted. Just because you're quiet and don't work the room like a politician doesn't necessarily mean there is something wrong with you.

Still, when you feel like the only introvert in a room of outgoing extroverts who are being outgoing and extroverted toward each other, and ignoring you because you're not interacting like they are, it just makes you feel all the more isolated. Which makes you feel even more worthless, which makes you feel even more depressed. It becomes a snowball effect.

The self-loathing and feeling of worthlessness leads to anger. You might not even realize that's what's triggering your anger, but it literally feels like a weight making your head sink and shoulders slump, pulling down your eyebrows and the corners of your mouth.

For Delonte, his anger manifested itself in a verbal altercation he had with a high-school referee who was officiating a Cavs intrasquad scrimmage several weeks ago. Whether the ref deserved Delonte's anger is not the point -- it's that whatever occurred between the ref and Delonte served as a trigger for Delonte to act out.

It's perhaps one of the least-recognized symptoms of depression among the general population. The popular image of depression is a person who is lethargic, is frequently sad, and maybe has thoughts of self-harm or suicide in extreme cases. But depression affects your temper.

Anger affects different people in different ways. Delonte took it out on someone else. I quietly seethed at perceived slights -- someone passing me on the freeway even though I'm doing five miles per hour over the speed limit, getting honked at in traffic, a total stranger failing to hold the door for me even though I'm five steps behind.

None of it should dampen my day. But to me, it meant "You're too slow," "You're a lousy driver" and "You aren't worth waiting the extra three seconds to hold the door."

Depression does that, too. It whispers in your ear. Not in the crazy, hearing-voices sense, but in the sense that you believe the things that happen to you every day are all somehow negative reflections on you as a person, reinforcing the belief that you're right to feel like you are worthless.

With all the misery that depression and anxiety-related disorders can inflict on the sufferer and those who are close, it should seem amazing if someone doesn't seek treatment. Yet many -- probably a majority -- don't seek treatment. Some don't have the means. Some are ashamed to admit they have a disorder. Some aren't even aware they can be treated.

That's why Delonte West's story needs to be told. It's not that his story is unique or remarkable among the countless others who suffer from depression, it's that he was willing to seek treatment, then candidly discuss his battle upon returning to the spotlight.

In the macho world of professional sports, where admitting you need help can be like admitting weakness, it was an especially bold move. The fact that Delonte is a high-profile athlete helps shed some much-needed light on a group of disorders that plagues more people every year, many of whom keep their suffering in silence.

Whether chronic depression and anxiety can be definitely cured is up for debate, but it can be controlled with counseling and medication. It's not always an easy, cause-and-effect treatment, like setting a broken bone. It might take some work to find the treatment options that best suit your case, but I can attest that treatment does work if you stick with it. It's not a magic bullet, but it can improve your quality of life.

Out of all the ways Delonte can use his pedestal as an NBA player to positively affect his community, his biggest contribution might have been as simple as the act of raising his hand and admitting he is a person who suffers from depression, then doing something about it.

We can only hope that many others follow his example.

The elephant in the room

These guys were impostors, right?

The Browns we've come to know and loathe don't piece together three ugly losses to start the season followed by an ugly win against the worst team in the league's backup quarterback, take a week off to gather some extra rust, and emerge as 21-point victors over the Super Bowl champs on Monday Night Football.

Something sinister happened in Berea over the span of those two weeks. Alien abductions? Mass hypnosis? DNA experimentation? Whatever happened, these Browns weren't those Browns.

Or were they?

If you look closely, the evidence is there. Comb through Derek Anderson's re-emergence, pick your way around Rob Chudzinski's unleashing of the offense and look past the return of Braylon "Gluefingers" Edwards. There it is.

Penalties. Stupid penalties. A total of 10 penalties for 55 yards, many of which occurred when players flinched at the line of scrimmage.

Yep. These are definitely the Cleveland Browns. The only difference is, the avalanche of false starts and sprinkling of holding calls and illegal shifts didn't cost them the game. No matter how many times the offense put itself in 5- and 10-yard holes, Anderson and Co. continued to move the ball.

Even when the Browns were at their best last season, this was the case. They didn't stop committing penalties, they moved the ball in spite of their repeated self-inflicted injuries.

It might seem kind of nitpicky to scold the Browns for their penalty problems when they're coming off one of the most significant wins of the new franchise era. If the offense overcame the penalties enough to stick the ball in the end zone three times, that's the point, right?

The answer is yes. For one game, anyway. A game in which Eli Manning threw three interceptions, two of which were picked off deep in Cleveland territory, killing would-be scoring drives for New York. A game in which the Giants racked up five of their own penalties for 38 yards.

But one applause-worthy win doesn't make the penalty problem go away. It's still a giant elephant sitting in the room. If we're not talking about it, it only means we're ignoring it.

The elephant has cost the Browns games in the past, and it will continue to cost the Browns games in the future if steps aren't taken to correct the problem. The offense won't always be able to dig itself out of penalty-induced holes, and the Browns certainly can't rely on a three-pick performance from the opposing team's quarterback every week.

It's a difficult-to-pinpoint problem if you're not in the huddle or on the Browns sideline. There doesn't really seem to be a pattern. It doesn't matter if you've been in the Browns' system forever like Ryan Tucker or are feeling your way through your first year like Rex Hadnot. It doesn't matter if you have a Pro Bowl on your resume or you're a third-stringer. At some point, you probably have been guilty of jumping the gun on the snap.

The false starts tend to arrive in waves, so whenever there is a glitch, it seems to take a few plays for things to settle back down. That's why I think the problem might have its roots in the huddle or on the sideline and not at the line of scrimmage.

The Plain Dealer's Terry Pluto noted that the Browns might have been somewhat intimidated by the Giants' ferocious pass rush, which might have led to a bout with the yips as offensive linemen awaited the snap. Against the Giants, that does make sense. But that wouldn't account for this having been a problem seemingly every week of every season for years.

Making an educated guess based on the evidence available, it seems like it might be a communication problem. Maybe even something as simple as certain players unsure of on which "hut" the ball will be snapped. If Anderson goes to a silent count, the problem gets immediately compounded by a lack of a verbal cue.

There are certain situations where false starts are more forgivable. On the road, in a noisy stadium, even someone with the ears of a hunting dog would probably still have trouble hearing the snap count. But that would seem to be more of an issue for receivers detached from the line than offensive linemen and tight ends who are closer to the quarterback.

But at home, in familiar territory, that shouldn't be an issue. Certainly not to the tune of 10 flags.

I think this is a byproduct of the Browns' larger in-game communication problems. An epidemic of false starts and illegal procedures could very well be linked to the Browns' other game management misadventures, such as Romeo Crennel's infamous decision last year to call a timeout to decide whether to challenge a play, which failed, costing the Browns two timeouts for the price of one.

That is an extreme example, and it would be unfair to pin mistakes at the line of scrimmage exclusively on the head coach, who is usually standing about 50 or 100 feet away from the play. But it's not too much of a stretch to think that if the messages from the sidelines are garbled, confusing or late in arriving, it would lead to some confusion in the huddle and by extension the line of scrimmage.

That might not be the case all the time, but it could be the case a significant percentage of the time, if only because the Browns' prior game management blunders suggest it.

Whatever steps the Browns' coaches need to take to correct the problem, the time to take those steps is now. There is a lot to feel good about in the aftermath of Monday's beatdown of the Giants, but it could all go up in a puff of smoke in the coming weeks if the Browns' offense isn't able to overcome its penalties, killing drives and turning wins into losses.

The Cavs' big gamble

The Cavaliers' big man situation is like a house of cards. As long as everything stays perfectly positioned and there are no disturbances, it looks pretty good. But as soon as there is a gust of wind, the whole thing might come tumbling down.

Predictably, it is less than a week into the Cavs' preseason, and the breeze is beginning to blow. On WTAM's Sportsline program Thursday night, Plain Dealer Cavs beat reporter Brian Windhorst told host Kevin Keane that Ben Wallace's back is already starting to act up.

Wallace, 34, and Zydrunas Ilgauskas, 33, have backs in the condition that you'd likely expect for two extremely tall men who have spent over a decade pounding up and down hardwood floors eight months a year. That is to say, the kind of backs that make physical therapists wake up in a cold sweat.

Every veteran NBA team has big men battling back issues, just like every Major League Baseball team has pitchers with arm injuries. It just comes with the territory. Abuse a certain part of your body for a couple of decades, and it will develop chronic problems.

But the Cavs' problem extends beyond the spinal column. They don't have a whole heck of a lot on the bench to pick up the slack if Ilgauskas or Wallace miss extended time.

It's realistic to think that Wallace could miss 20 to 30 games this year nursing assorted injuries. In addition to his back, he has a chronically-bad shoulder and it's not a stretch to assume that his knees and ankles ache more with each passing season.

Z played the final portion of last season with a ruptured disk in his back. Luckily, he doesn't have to jump at 7'-3" so his back doesn't have to endure the pogo-stick pounding of some bigs, Wallace included. But it's hard to imagine Z staying on the floor for 82 games. I'd put his over-under on games missed at 10, maybe even as high as 15.

That means the guys who are supposed to provide most of the Cavs' rebounding and interior defense could miss 40 or 45 games between the two of them, just trying to recover from nagging injuries. Which increases the probability that Z and Wallace will miss concurrent games on more than one occasion. So the contingency plan of Mike Brown and Danny Ferry had better include other guys who can play starters' minutes and produce.

Their insurance policy right now consists of Anderson Varejao, J.J. Hickson, Lorenzen Wright and maybe Darnell Jackson -- unless he gets shipped off to the developmental league.

Hickson and Jackson are rookies. Even though Hickson has looked promising in a microscopically-small playing sample, it's unrealistic to think he can step in and provide a starting lineup bandage if Wallace and Ilgauskas are riding the pine. Varejao has started a few games in prior years and could probably perform adequately as a short-term solution. But, lest we forget, he tends to rack up fouls at a prodigious pace. That will probably only increase if the NBA cracks down on charging flops.

Some people have called Wright this year's Scot Pollard. I think he's more like this year's Jay Guidinger.

So in a nutshell, the only reliable backup big man the Cavs currently have is Varejao, and he could end up on the bench in foul trouble four minutes into the game. So if you're looking for stabilizing depth, don't look to the Cavs' backup bigs.

The other option -- the option Brown is reportedly trying to pursue in training camp -- is to shuffle guys to other positions. If Ilgauskas and Wallace end up in sick bay together for a stretch of games, it would be possible to start Varejao at center and LeBron James at power forward, moving Sasha Pavlovic to LeBron's small forward spot and rounding out the backcourt with Mo Williams and Wally Szczerbiak or Delonte West.

The problem with that approach is it would probably neutralize LeBron's superlative athleticism to a degree. It would force LeBron to move closer to the basket, particularly at the defensive end, to guard guys bigger than him and focus on rebounding. He'd take more of a beating in the low-post mosh pit, and instead of running the floor in transition, he'd likely be the guy making the outlet pass.

LeBron is fast enough that he could snatch a rebound, outlet the ball to Williams or West and still sprint up the floor fast enough to finish at the other end. But I'd rather have LeBron be the first guy up the floor on a fast break. If there is nobody between LeBron and the hoop when he gets the ball, there won't be anybody between him and the hoop when he crushes the dunk. Whether in a half court set or in transition, LeBron is at his most dangerous when he can get a head of steam going toward the basket. That was the whole point of Ferry trading for a point guard like Williams.

Playing LeBron at the four-spot could probably work in smaller doses, when the other team tries to put a smaller lineup on the floor, but it seems like Brown shouldn't want that setup for 48 minutes a night.

Any way Brown tries to mask it, the Achilles' heel of the Cavs' roster is going to be exposed at some point: They have two aging, injury-prone starting big men and no real safety net on the roster.

The situation might force Ferry to make a move sooner rather than later. I'm not in the camp that is itching to trade Szczerbiak and his more than $13 million expiring contract as soon as possible. But that, and the possible trade exception that could be awarded the Cavs when and if Eric Snow's retirement becomes official, are the biggest trade bullets Ferry might be able to fire this season.

It's looking more and more that if Ferry is going to move Szczerbiak's contract, it's going to have to be for a big man who can start. But the names that could be on the trading block (Zach Randolph, Eddy Curry and Udonis Haslem, to name a few) don't exactly pop off the page and scream "missing piece to a championship." Randolph is probably the best option from a points and rebounds standpoint. But his attitude problems have been well-documented over the years.

It's never good when your team's GM gets his hand forced into making a deal by circumstances. So far, the two biggest trades Ferry has orchestrated -- February's Wallace-West-Szczerbiak blockbuster and August's Mo Williams deal -- were the products of patience and waiting for the right pieces to align.

But if Wallace and/or Ilgauskas start to pile up missed games with assorted injuries, Ferry might have to become a maintenance man, plugging large holes on a team with NBA championship aspirations.

It's not an ideal situation, but Ferry knows what is at stake. This team is talented enough and motivated enough to win an NBA title this season. But not without healthy, productive big men. One way or another, with or without the cooperation of Wallace's and Ilgauskas' deteriorating body parts, Ferry is going to have to make that happen.

Worshipping The Chin

Bill Cowher has become a folk hero in Cleveland. Or maybe even a messiah.

As we wait for the guy who can make everything all better during yet another foundering Browns season, many of us are looking chinward to the histrionics of Cowher. The man with the passion for the game, the man who yells and screams, the coach who will whip the Browns' sorry butts into shape, unlike the Human Snooze Button, Romeo Crennel.

If only the Browns would be willing to jettison Crennel and give Cowher whatever he wants to take the reins of the Browns, surely better days would be ahead. Not only would Cowher inspire, lead and discipline where Crennel has failed to do all three, hiring the former Steelers boss would be like stealing Pittsburgh's thunder, a chance to give the Steelers a taste of the humiliation they've been heaping on us for most of the past decade.

It would be perfect. A real head coach with real experience, served with a side of freshly-chilled revenge against our arch-rivals.

At least that's the way we want it to happen. In reality, unfortunately, we'd have to file our newfound love for The Chin under "unrealistic expectations." It's another chapter in our futile search for the One Guy who can eradicate the Browns' losing culture.

The Browns could end up firing Crennel and hiring Cowher, but it's probably not going to shape up quite the way you want it to. Like previous regime changes, it would begin with a messy, lengthy process of tearing down the old regime.

First off, if Cowher goes anywhere near the Browns, it won't be until the end of the season. His contractual obligation to the Steelers ended after last season, but there is nothing that says a successful former head coach would want to step in and try to clean up another coach's mess in the middle of the season. Cowher doesn't need to do that, and he wouldn't.

If Cowher takes the reins of the Browns, he won't ride in on a white horse. He'll walk in with a sledgehammer and start demolishing the old roster and coaching staff. Cowher won't be the magic elixir simply because he is familiar with a 3-4 defense and might be able to use some of the same players Savage has collected.

Rob Chudzinski? Gone. Mel Tucker? Adios. Braylon Edwards? Kellen Winslow? Jamal Lewis?Who knows?

The Browns might be in need of another rebuild. Maybe we've seen everything we're ever going to see out of the Savage-Crennel regime. In that case, maintaining continuity for continuity's sake is a bad idea. If Randy Lerner honestly believes that it's time to blaze a new trail, then by all means, he should pursue Cowher, fire Crennel and prepare to tell Savage that Cowher is getting the final say on roster moves -- along with preparing for Savage's inevitable resignation following that news.

But it's an either-or proposition. Hiring Cowher and taking the mythical "next step" in 2009 are mutually exclusive.

Lerner can allow Cowher to come in and spend the next several years stripping down and building up, which would mean several more years of losing, minimum. Or he can try to make it work with his current guys -- at the very least, Savage and another coach who won't demand the decision-making power that Cowher will. But bringing in Cowher, ditching Crennel, forcing Savage's resignation in the process and contending next year is like having your cake and eating it, too.

Pine for Cowher, but understand that it's going to take several more years for him to rebuild the organization in his image. If Savage and Crennel have turned the Browns organization into the quagmire we believe they have, the least Lerner can offer Cowher is the chance to do things his way.

That also means the chance to succeed or fail. Cowher has never built an organization, he's never had to eradicate a losing culture on the field, in the locker room, and perhaps most dauntingly, throughout a fan base that tends to treat 21-point losses like a sign of the Apocalypse.

We'd all like to believe The Chin is still a Brown at heart. He wore the Browns uniform as a player and Cleveland is where his coaching career started. We'd like to believe that when the Browns' Bat Signal beams across the sky, Cowher will answer the call like a caped crusader should.

But that's the problem. Cowher isn't a superhero, he isn't a messiah, he isn't a magician, he's not even a front office guy. He's a coach. More accurately, he's a coach who benefitted from standing on the solid foundation the Steelers provided him for a decade and a half. Outside of the Steelers' fortress, we don't really know what Cowher can do.

Carmen Policy and Dwight Clark came to the Browns from San Francisco 10 years ago. They were well-decorated and well-respected football guys who helped turn the 49ers into the envy of professional football throughout the '80s and into the '90s. Then they were asked to build a football team from scratch and they failed miserably.

Cowher wouldn't have to work with a first-year expansion team should he take over the Browns. But he would have to venture into the uncharted waters of organization-building. That's a task that has already proved to be too large for Policy, Clark, and Butch Davis after them. Now it seems like Savage and Crennel are venturing dangerously close to the same fate.

All of them came from winning organizations. All of them had impressive resumes. Just like Cowher.

Knowing how to win isn't all it's cracked up to be if you don't know how to stop the losing first.

An uncommon bond

Seldom in the world of baseball does the dismissal of a bullpen coach make waves of any kind. Bullpen coaches are stationed somewhere behind the outfield wall during games at many ballparks. Compared to the guys in the dugout and on the field, it's not a high-profile position. Some casual baseball fans might not even know who the bullpen coach of their team is.

But then there's the curious case of the Cleveland Indians and the man who was their bullpen coach up until this week, Luis Isaac.

Tribe fans don't get the press that other famously-devoted fan bases, like those of the Red Sox and Cubs, receive -- but they can be every bit as obsessive-compulsive. Combine that with a bullpen coach who was employed in some fashion by the Indians for 44 years, a coach who became linked to the beloved 1995 team by serving as mentor and interpreter for the likes of Julian Tavarez and Jose Mesa, and you have a uncommonly-close bond between a fan base and its uncommonly-famous bullpen coach.

So it wasn't much of a surprise that Isaac's firing was met with flame and fume from fans, directed at Eric Wedge and Mark Shapiro, a manager-GM tandem known for preferring subordinates who toe the company line.

At least one report says it's possible Isaac might have been viewed by Wedge and pitching coach Carl Willis as a disruptive force in the club's rank and file, if not an outright threat to authority. Some Latin pitchers, in particular, might have circumvented Willis' tutelage to seek advice from Isaac.

That's speculation for now, but it's easy to envision a Latin pitcher such as Fausto Carmona, Rafael Perez or Rafael Betancourt seeking advice from Isaac, not because they don't trust Willis, but because Isaac is a native Spanish-speaker like them, a coach who has been in the game for decades and is well-respected. It's not too much of a stretch to think that Isaac could become something of a father figure to young Latin American ballplayers getting used to life in a new country and culture.

It would be a shame if Isaac was dismissed just because he was disturbing the organizational flow chart. But it's the Indians, after all. When your team is run by lawyers and MBAs, it does tend to take on a corporate flavor.

Wedge's words on the matter say little.

"I thought we needed a different dynamic in that role. It's something I thought about for a long time," Wedge told reporters.

The phrase "different dynamic" sounds almost sinister in its corporate-speak vagueness. It's left to the reader to decide what Wedge means. Does he mean a younger coach with fresh ideas? Does he mean a company yes-man from the minor leagues? Does he mean a guy who will say "Ask Carl" every time a pitcher comes to him for advice?

Maybe Wedge wants a bullpen coach who catches warm-up pitches, obeys his superiors and keeps his mouth shut otherwise. Maybe Wedge is that much of a control freak. But, as in most conflicts, there are two sides to every story. So if we're going to speculate about all the ways Wedge, Shapiro and Willis might be the bad guys here, we have to at least consider Isaac's culpability.

Perhaps Isaac developed a case of lone-wolf syndrome sitting in the bullpen every game, detached from most of the other coaches. Maybe the bullpen had become his domain, the pitchers within became his subjects and he didn't want Wedge and the dugout crew getting too involved with how he ran things behind the center field fence. If that's the case, Wedge would be more justified in taking a hardline stance.

It's not unrealistic considering that Isaac was the bullpen coach for Mike Hargrove, Charlie Manuel and Joel Skinner before Wedge came aboard. If Isaac had developed an "I was here before you and I'll be here after you" mentality, that could have been potentially damaging to the team.

It's also possible that all the perceived backstage bickering is just the product of our overactive imaginations as fans and media members, and Wedge just wanted someone new. It's not like the Indians didn't get enough mileage out of Isaac's coaching career. When a guy has been with an organization for more than four decades, more that 30 years of which he spent coaching, maybe it's just time for a change.

It's a shame Isaac's Indians tenure came to such an unceremonious end, at the hands of a manager who is already on thin ice with regard to fan acceptance, a manager already known for hanging "uncoachable" tags on Brandon Phillips and Milton Bradley, and having them shipped elsewhere.

In that light, the firing of Isaac looks like another Orwellian move by Wedge, an attempt to surgically remove free thinkers and replace them with easily-governed robots in his dystopian clubhouse society. But chances are, Wedge is far more practical than that.

Assistant coaches get hired and fired all the time. No one gets into professional coaching for the job security. What makes Isaac's dismissal different is that he vastly beat the odds, stayed employed by the same team for 44 years and became a high-profile bullpen coach -- which is an oxymoron in 99 percent of baseball.

Perhaps the fact that many Tribe fans are outraged by Isaac's dismissal is one of the greatest tributes that he could be paid. It means we have recognized him as something of an institution in Cleveland.

For a guy who has spent his summers with pads strapped to his shins, kneeling in dirt, catching practice pitches while concealed behind a door in the outfield fence, it is the most unlikely of outcomes.

Let it be, Mr. Gilbert

Dear Mr. Gilbert,

...Or Dan. I can call you Dan, right?

I appreciate you going to bat for the city of Cleveland against all the LeBron-to-New York hysteria that flares up anytime LeBron appears in public wearing a Yankees cap, or calling New York his favorite city, or wearing anything that might resemble pinstripes.

As you so eloquently put it during Thursday's pre-training camp press conference, it is indeed a slap in the face to Cleveland and the Midwest in general. East Coast and West Coast blowhard types believe that possessing players like LeBron James is their birthright, because historically, that's been the pilgrimage destination for stars and stars-to-be.

Kareem and Wilt? They didn't toil in obscurity for their entire careers. They ended up with the Lakers. Reggie Jackson didn't stick in Oakland or Baltimore. He packed up his star and headed for The Bronx.

Throughout the history of professional sports, New York and Los Angeles have usually had the biggest say in who is a true star and who isn't. Mickey Mantle wouldn't have been "The Mick" had he played 15 seasons for the Indians. Joe DiMaggio wouldn't have been referenced in a Simon and Garfunkel song if he played most of his career for the St. Louis Browns. Even if their career stats stayed the same, they wouldn't have become icons.

So this whole LeBron-as-worldwide-icon-while-playing-in-Cleveland thing has the East Coasters perplexed. It doesn't compute. Even in this era of instantaneous communication, 24-hour cable networks and unblinking spotlights, LeBron needs New York to become bigger than life. Right? Because that's the way it's always been. If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. But if you can't, you'll be lucky to find face time hawking used Fords at the local car dealer.

Sure, Mr. Gilbert, it's arrogance in its purest form whenever a national scribe pens an article predicting LeBron's departure to New York simply because New York is calling his name. You are excused for being ticked. We're all ticked. Finally, a homegrown, legitimate superstar to call our own, someone who might finally end our 44-year title drought across three teams, but is anybody happy for us? The way we were supposed to be happy for the Red Sox in 2004? The way we'll be expected to give Chicago a hearty pat on the back if the Cubs win the World Series this year?

No, everyone outside of Ohio seems to resent the fact that LeBron is here and can't wait to take him away from us. Heck, if I had a camera and a soapbox, I'd be tempted to rant, myself.

But having said all of that, Mr. Gilbert, I'd caution you to scale it back. Because if you start a war of words with the national media, you're only going to vilify yourself and make the situation worse.

Thursday, you essentially said the LeBron-to-New York and/or Brooklyn rumors are the product of bored sportswriters with too much newshole to fill. You hinted at your desire to take the LeBron rumormongers to task for their apparent anti-Cleveland slant.

You should have cut your comments at what you know, not what you suspect. A simple "I have not heard anything from LeBron or anyone closely associated with LeBron that he intends to leave the Cavs organization" would have sufficed. Maybe add in a Danny Ferry line: "I believe we have put together the kind of organization that LeBron will want to be associated with both now and in the future."

Beyond that, no comment. I know Mark Cuban has become something of a mentor to you among NBA owners, but don't become a talk-first, think-second chatterbox like him. Nothing good can come of it. All you'll do is trigger a round of reprisal columns painting you as a franchise owner who is somewhere between dense and stupid, displaying yet another reason why the Cavs organization is too backward and incompetent to deserve a talent like LeBron.

By arching your back and hissing at the national media, you're giving their words far more weight than they deserve. Trust me, Mr. Gilbert, there are plenty of John Q. Everyfans among us who will do that with little prompting. We don't need that out of the guy at the top of the Cavs organization.

Worst of all, you've potentially cued LeBron and his camp in to a valuable bargaining chip for the summer of 2010. LeBron might be the nicest guy in the world to you right now. But when it becomes all about business, LeBron and his reps will believe that they can use the media to manipulate you, should it come to that.

LeBron already uses the media to manipulate. Anyone with his ability to stay in front of the camera usually does. It's called being media-savvy.

I can't imagine, at this point, that your relationship with LeBron and his handlers would become that contentious. But as you know, Mr. Gilbert, this is a business, and you don't want to tip your hand prior to reaching the negotiating table.

To borrow a phrase you might be familiar with, it's time for you to Rise Up, Mr. Gilbert, and put the sports gossip columnists in their place. They're beneath you, they don't deserve your attention, and you shouldn't give it to them.

You've done a lot right as the Cavs owner, Mr. Gilbert. You sank a ton of money into the Cavs organization, upgrading the team facilities and fan amenities at The Q, constructing a new practice facility in Independence, ratcheting the team's payroll up to the league's second-highest. You want to win a championship, and you're putting your money where your mouth is. You've hired solid basketball guys to run the show in Ferry and Mike Brown, and you're not meddling in their affairs.

As we watch the Browns foul up hire after hire, as we watch the Indians continue to try to win a World Series with a small-market payroll, it's thrilling to know we have an owner in town who is willing to spend what it takes to bring home a title.

So please, Mr. Gilbert, don't let your mouth tarnish your fantastic actions as Cavs owner. Let it be, Mr. Gilbert. When you're standing on Public Square on a warm June afternoon, holding the NBA championship trophy alongside a giddy, dancing LeBron, surrounded by thousands of adoring fans, you'll have the last laugh.

The Lerners and losing

When a team starts as poorly as the Browns have started this year, it's natural to look to the team's most visible faces for answers.

The shortcomings of Derek Anderson, Romeo Crennel and even Phil Savage have been dissected and dissolved down to the molecular level ever since the Browns' nightmarish second preseason game against the Giants. The opinions on who to blame are diverse.

In a typical scenario, a fan calls into a talk show to blame Anderson's erratic arm and poor decision-making, but is quickly interrupted by the host who points out that Anderson is only as good as the plays drawn up by Crennel and Rob Chudzinski. The show's co-host butts in and asks why Savage and his spotty draft record are off the hook.

It's become a tired tradition of Cleveland autumns over the past decade. It doesn't matter who is running the roster, who is coaching the team, who is under center. From Chris Palmer, Dwight Clark and Tim Couch to Butch Davis, Kelly Holcomb and Jeff Garcia to Crennel, Savage and Anderson, there is always plenty of blame, and excuses, to go around for why this latest season is following all the others to the city dump.

It begs the questions: Over the past decade, what has been the one constant among Browns personnel? Who has overseen it all? Who is the only person in the organization that can hold everyone else accountable?

It's none other than Randy Lerner, and his late father Al Lerner.

Before you start thinking that this is going to turn into Lerner family bash-fest, or that I'm going to speak ill of someone deceased, let me clarify a few things: I think Randy is a good person and I have much respect for him, just as I did and still do for his father.

Al Lerner was a self-made man who grew from humble beginnings to one of the moguls of the credit card industry. He was active in charitable endeavors. He was a community-minded person. I truly believed that when he won the ownership of the new Browns franchise in 1998, the team was going to be in good hands.

I didn't care what the stories said about Art Modell using Lerner's private jet to negotiate the Browns departure to Baltimore. If anything, it spoke volumes about his willingness to stick his neck out for a friend. Besides, if Lerner had denied Modell the use of his jet, chances are Modell would have found another clandestine meeting place with Baltimore officials. It wouldn't have prevented the move.

When Randy Lerner took over after his father's death in 2002, I questioned whether he would be devoted to the Browns franchise. Randy took over the team to keep it in the family, but he didn't live in Ohio full time, and while he appeared to have his head in American football, his heart gravitated toward soccer. I expected him to sell the team at some point. When he bought English Premiership club Aston Villa in 2006, I really expected him to sell the Browns. But he didn't.

Instead, Lerner became more involved, strengthening the team's ties to the past by welcoming back Browns alumni, which previous ownership regimes were less eager to do. Bernie Kosar and Jim Brown are now regulars in the owner's box at home Browns games.

So if I had to sum up the ownership of Al and Randy Lerner since 1999, I'd say they have had the best interests of the franchise and community at heart. The have understood what the Browns mean to all of northern Ohio, and have worked to repair and strengthen the bonds that were damaged by Modell's flight.

That's off the field, though. On the field, where wins and losses are the barometer of success, it has been a much more depressing story, one that needs not be retold in gory detail here.

If there has been an issue to have with the ownership of the Lerner family, it's who they have hired to try and pull the Browns out of the abyss. Try as they might, it hasn't worked, largely because most of the people they have brought in to run the show weren't proven commodities. And the hires who did have a proven track record ended up running amok.

Common logic among sports fans says the best owners hire their general mangers and coaches and get out of the way. They sign the checks, attend the games, but do not interfere in the running of the team. That's how the likes of George Steinbrenner and the Redskins' Daniel Snyder have gotten in trouble. At their worst, they treated their teams like fantasy-league playthings, hiring and firing coaches on a whim, toying around with the organizational structure, meddling in the affairs of those beneath them.

It's true. Meddling owners are usually bad owners. And the Lerners have not meddled. But maybe they've gone too far in the other direction.

When Al Lerner partnered with Carmen Policy, he took a backseat role to Policy's far more dominant personality. Policy hooked up the pipeline to San Francisco and began dousing the Browns organization in 49er red and gold. That would have been great in 1989. But this was 1999, and the Niners were well on their way to becoming a rusted hulk of the model organization first organized by Bill Walsh in the early 1980s.

Policy quickly showed that he talked a good game, and maybe he played the salary cap well enough to squeeze in a fifth Super Bowl title for the Niners in 1995, but as a starting-from-scratch organizational architect, he wasn't so good. But Lerner was Policy's guy, and Policy was Lerner's guy, so he wasn't going anywhere.

In Chris Palmer and Dwight Clark, Policy plugged in two guys who will likely never ascend so high in professional football again. Palmer returned to the coordinator ranks following his 2000 dismissal, and Clark is now completely out of football.

Policy didn't leave the organization until a year and a half after Al Lerners death. As the Lerners' franchise leader, he led the Browns to four losing seasons in five years. He left all football operations in the hands of Butch Davis, who resigned under pressure halfway through the '04 season.

With Policy and Davis gone, Randy Lerner had a chance for a fresh start in 2005. Unfortunately, that fresh start included new team president John Collins, who Randy hired to be his own version of Policy. It was Collins who helped oversee the hiring of two more unproven commodities in Romeo Crennel and Phil Savage. The former was a career-long defensive assistant who had never been a head coach on any level. The latter was a superscout for the Ravens who had never headed an organization before.

Reviews on the two have been mixed, but it appears that both have had to deal with a large learning curve. Crennel has had extensive trouble managing games and instilling disciplined play in his players. Savage still looks like he's more comfortable in the role of scouting head than team administrator. A general manager's most important role is that of roster manager, but he also has to oversee and be accountable for all football-related activity in his organization.

If that wasn't enough, Collins left the organization due to a bizarre series of events in December 2005 that almost cost Savage his job after less than a year. Whether it was a power play on the part of Collins or not, it became apparent that the two couldn't coexist. Another bump in the road.

Pointing out all of this isn't necessarily done to accuse the Lerners of running a bad organization. I still think that the Browns believe in high standards and doing things the right way. But the owner's finger is the one that flicks the domino line. If the owner doesn't hire effective administrators, the organization becomes flawed from that point down.

It's difficult to pinpoint exactly where the broken links in the chain are. Policy came to town with a full resume and multiple Super Bowl rings, but was exposed as little more than a spin doctor with no organization-building skills. Butch Davis came to town as the architect of a reborn Miami Hurricanes powerhouse who also had Super Bowl experience with the Cowboys, and also fizzled here.

John Collins came out of the NFL front office to join the Browns and was gone within two years. Chris Palmer and Romeo Crennel were both among the top head coaching candidates in the coordinator ranks when they were hired. Phil Savage had a Super Bowl ring to his credit, and even had his roots in the old Browns organization. None of these guys seemed like bad hires at the time, and Savage and Crennel still have time to save their jobs -- moreso Savage.

But there is no doubt about it. The Browns, on the field of play, are a losing team with a losing culture and, with few exceptions, have been that way since re-entering the league. Confidence is fleeting and fragile, mistakes are crushing and the effects of misfortune are long-lasting. This is a team that fears losing and plays that way. No matter who has been the coach, who has been the GM, who has been the starting quarterback, that has been the one constant.

That, and the Lerners' ownership. Which, fairly or not, might need to end before this franchise sees sustained success again.

Perception vs. reality

It's mid-September. The Browns are 0-2. They got to 0-2 by losing to the Steelers. If they lose to the almost-as-despised Ravens this weekend, they'll be 0-3, one-third of the way to a losing season. Most 0-2 teams don't make the playoffs. The track record of 0-3 teams? You don't want to know.

The reaction has been predictable among the general population.

Are Browns fans playing the part of the stereotypical star-crossed lover and readying themselves for the deep plunge off an area bridge? Are you kidding? This is Cleveland. That's what the name on the door says, right? What kind of delicate, melodramatic divas do you take us for? No, we're reacting how you should anticipate that a football-crazy fan base watching yet another football season teeter precariously on the edge of oblivion would react: With anger.

Fans are lining up outside the Bastille, ready for the signal to storm the gates and make some heads roll. Not pointing the finger of blame so much as swinging the sword of smiting.

It's a progressive condition. Drop an opening day egg? We develop a nervous twitch. Lose a winnable game to the Steelers in Week 2? We find it hard to concentrate on menial tasks. Lose to the Ravens? Heaven help you if you wear brown and orange.

No one in the Browns organization should feel terribly comfortable right now. It's hard to imagine a season filled with so much promise getting off to much worse of a start. But as much as we the fans wail and gnash our teeth, owner Randy Lerner isn't going to bulldoze the organization anytime soon. Nor should he.

Phil Savage, Romeo Crennel, Derek Anderson and their associates have put themselves in this position. Cutting bait on anyone after two lousy games not only scuttles the season, it lets the guys responsible off the hook.

So let them twist in the wind for right now and figure it out. They owe us at least that much.

What's the difference between the fans' perception of the Browns and the reality of the situation? Let's take a closer look...

Romeo Crennel

Perception: He's a nice guy who made it to where he is by sticking around long enough and earning the respect of the right people. He is, however, completely overmatched as an NFL head coach. He is quite possibly the worst game-day coach in the NFL.

Reality: He is a nice guy who made it to where he is by sticking around long enough and earning the respect of the right people. His resume includes five Super Bowl rings as an assistant coach and the loyalty of countless players, making him a tremendously popular locker room leader.

However, if the players like you too much, that might not be such a good thing. The Marines wouldn't get anywhere as a fighting force if their drill instructors tried to win popularity contests with recruits. In the end, a coach's job is to teach and discipline, and the Browns, as they did under Chris Palmer and Butch Davis, seem to lack basic discipline. At least William Green isn't getting into pregame fights with Joey Porter anymore.

Crennel's game-day coaching misadventures have been re-hashed ad nauseum in many forums and outlets this week, so I won't do it again. But suffice it to say, it's his weakest area. And we're not talking about strategy here (which I think Crennel actually has a decent handle on for the most part). We're talking about basic procedural things like getting the play to the quarterback in a timely manner, making the right replay challenges and knowing when to call a timeout.

Even if Crennel was coaching the Joe Montana-era 49ers, if he botches basic football procedures the way he has in his three-plus years at the helm of the Browns, he's going to lose games.

Is it time to fire Romeo? Not yet. But if the Browns enter the bye week at 0-4, his dismissal will be on the tip of everyone's tongue.

Phil Savage

Perception: A good evaluator of talent who isn't afraid to make a bold move, unlike a certain baseball GM in this town. The man most responsible for the Browns' 10-6 season a year ago.

Reality: Savage has enjoyed the perks of success as the GM of the Browns. A lot of criticism that would otherwise be aimed at him gets deflected. But as the losses mount, that's starting to wear away.

Yes, Savage's work on the Browns roster is masterful compared to some of the hack jobs done by his predecessors. But that's mostly an indicator of how bad it was prior to his arrival.

Savage's track record has been spotty. History will likely show that the drafting of Joe Thomas and the acquisition of Shaun Rogers were among his greatest successes. But most of his moves are, at the very least, up for debate.

Outside of Thomas, Savage's draft picks haven't yielded cornerstone players. Braylon Edwards has flaws that might prove to be fatal to his ability to become an elite receiver. Kamerion Wimbley has shown virtually nothing since his rookie season. Brodney Pool already has suffered three concussions. Charlie Frye was a colossal whiff. Brady Quinn might achieve stardom ... for another team. And that's without getting into the virtually-bare cupboard that has been Savage's collection of second-day draft picks.

His trades have been better, when they have been impact trades. The Hank Fraley deal was a thing of beauty in a time of need. But most of the time, Savage tends to pay out a lot, maybe too much, in trades. He gave up a second-rounder for Corey Williams, who some Browns coaches have already reportedly labeled a bust. He gave up a first-rounder and second-rounder for Quinn, who has played in one game so far. He gave up next year's third-rounder for Martin Rucker, a tight end who has been hurt since training camp.

Free agency has been relatively kind to Savage, the LeCharles Bentley fiasco notwithstanding. Savage has nabbed Eric Steinbach, Dave Zastudil, Jamal Lewis, Donte' Stallworth and Joe Jurevicius off the open market. But outside of Steinbach and maybe Stallworth, free agency didn't give Savage long-term, every-down impact players. Jurevicius and Lewis are short-term stopgaps.

Savage has done a reasonable job in accumulating talent, but like Grady Sizemore, he could stand to hit for a higher average.

Derek Anderson

Perception: His throws have two speeds: hard and harder. He thinks "finesse" is some weird French dish made with pig's feet. He thinks "feathering it in there" has something to do with chickens. If you had to lead a drive to win a game to save your life, Anderson would be about 153rd on the list of QBs you'd want under center.

Reality: Teaching D.A. to develop a soft touch has been kind of like teaching a bazooka to feed layups into a basketball hoop. It's just not in his nature, and it doesn't play to his strengths.

If the Browns foresee a future with a conservative, dink and dunk offense, might I suggest moving to Quinn? If you're going to use Anderson's arm, use it.

At this point, I'm fairly convinced that Anderson is what he is. He knows he can muscle balls into tight coverage because of his arm strength, so he gambles. Last year, it paid off. This year, it's not paying off, and it's not all his fault. In addition to Braylon's much-publicized drops, Anderson has no safety valve without Jurevicius and no second deep threat with Stallworth injured.

If the Browns are going to stick with Anderson, they'd better be prepared to accept both sides of him. He can thread the needle at his best, but he has accuracy problems, makes bad reads and gambles too much. A better coaching staff might allow Anderson to refine his skills a bit more, but it appears that Good Derek and Bad Derek are a package deal. Take him or leave him as is.

Rob Chudzinski

Perception: Last year's offensive genius, this year's shrinking violet.

Reality: In 2007, the Browns showed up on Sundays believing that they were going to score points, believing that they had the weapons to win and knew how to use them. The brains behind the brawn belonged to Chudzinski.

This year, the Browns' bold, potent offense has been replaced by something far more conservative -- maybe even timid at times. Granted, when you are facing the defenses of the Cowboys and Steelers, you can be excused for wanting to minimize your mistakes. But Chud has allowed the offense to stray from the unpredictability that made it so dangerous a year ago. The vertical passing game has been eschewed in favor of lots of first-down runs up the gut and underneath passing.

It's not so much that it's a bad approach, it's just that Chud's offense has become far more vanilla and predictable than last year. Hopefully, facing the Ravens, and especially the Bengals, in the coming weeks will convince Chud to open up the offense a bit more. Because right now, this seems like training-wheels offense.

Braylon Edwards

Perception: A guy who talks a much better game than he plays. The poster boy for arrogant, cocky, mouthy athletes who can't back it up on the field.

Reality: Behind the bravado and histrionics is a young man who is putting a tremendous amount of pressure on himself. He knows how much he means to the team, and it's playing no small part in his early-season bout with granite hands.

Edwards has always been known as a guy who doesn't have the greatest hands. Perhaps he doesn't have the naturally soft hands of a Jerry Rice. But most dropped passes are the product of what is going on between a receiver's ears.

The pressure isn't going away, so Edwards needs to take the pressure and turn it from a negative into a positive, from a burdensome weight to a challenge to which he must rise. And the sooner he can figure out how to do that, the better. His drops are killing this team as much as Anderson's errant throws and Crennel's game mismanagement.

The return of Kid Braylon

It's still early, but I don't like the direction in which Braylon Edwards' season is heading.

Last year, the Browns receiver with All-World talent appeared to turn the corner toward not just Pro Bowl performance, but a noticeable increase in maturity. Sure, he pulled a Dwayne Rudd in St. Louis, yanking off his helmet in celebration and drawing a 15-yard unsportsmanlike conduct penalty. But overall, he stopped flapping his gums and starting catching the balls that a No. 1 receiver is supposed to catch.

The hookup between Edwards and Derek Anderson became arguably the most dangerous weapon in the Browns' offensive arsenal, and one of the best highlight-producers in the NFL. Defenses constantly had to watch over their collective shoulder because a bomb to Edwards could come anytime, anyplace. It was the football equivalent of watching Cliff Lee morph from a paint-by-numbers pitcher to a mound artist who can throw any pitch at any time and get a hitter out.

When I looked forward to the '08 season, the beauty and efficiency of Edwards' game was one of the items I circled. Even though Edwards played for That State Up North in college, any guy who can turn a 40-yard sideline route into must-see TV is OK in my book.

But as the NFL season enters its second week, I'm beginning to wonder if I overestimated the guy. In 2008, Kid Braylon appears to have returned.

It's 100 times worse than Kid LeBron, from "The LeBrons" Nike advertising campaign of the past several years. Kid LeBron shows up to a Cleveland sporting event to root for the other team. Kid Braylon gets stabbed in the foot by his teammate's cleats while horsing around in his stocking feet and misses most of the preseason. Kid Braylon wonders aloud if LeBron, the most important athlete in Ohio, even wants to play here. Kid Braylon lets catchable balls smack off his palms and fall harmlessly to the turf.

Kid Braylon is not the type of guy you want to build a team around. Kid Braylon causes headaches for his team's GM, coach and quarterback.

Most of the problems Kid Braylon causes are the result of doing first and thinking second. Though post-practice sprints are a part of the ritual for football teams at all levels, and it's understandable that a player might want to give his heavily-taped feet some relief by removing his shoes at the end of practice, running in your stocking feet in close proximity to a teammate who is running in sharp cleats would fall under the lesson you likely learned in kindergarten about not running with scissors. It's common sense. Coaches shouldn't have to monitor these types of things.

But Kid Braylon didn't weigh the consequences. And Donte' Stallworth's cleat clipped the back of his foot, opening a gash that required stitches and forced Edwards to miss the final three preseason games.

As a result, Edwards wasn't in anything remotely resembling game shape against Dallas. Huffing and puffing after long runs, it became apparent that he was expending so much energy just running his routes that he had nothing left to make a play once the ball arrived. Edwards' drops played a big part in short-circuiting what could have been a productive first quarter for the Browns. Instead of an entertaining shootout between two good offensive teams, the Browns offense became impotent without the big-play threat of Edwards, and the game became a blowout.

It's not fair to pin all the blame for the loss on Edwards. Stallworth sat out as well, and it looks like the lack of Joe Jurevicius as a short-yardage safety valve for Anderson is going to hurt the Browns every week. But Edwards' inability to do what he's paid millions to do -- catch the damn ball -- hurt the Browns as much as anything. And it can all be traced back to one act of indiscretion a month ago.

With that humiliation fresh on his mind, a mature star football player would keep his mouth shut and work twice as hard. Maybe Edwards did work twice as hard this week to try and make sure he's ready for the Steelers. But the "shut up" part ... not so much.

Already not in the good graces of Cleveland fans, Kid Braylon opened his monstrous yap on Tuesday during a personal appearance and gave his thoughts on LeBron's appearance at Cleveland Browns Stadium on Sunday to cheer on his beloved Cowboys:

"[James is] a guy from Akron who likes everybody but his hometown," Edwards was quoted by The Plain Dealer's Terry Pluto as saying. "LeBron isn't a Cleveland guy. LeBron only plays for the Cavaliers, and who knows if he even likes the Cavaliers?"

In Cleveland, where we are routinely subjected to national media rumors and articles concerning LeBron's supposed desire to bolt for the Knicks or Nets in two years, them's fightin' words. Especially coming from one of our own players.

Edwards considers LeBron a friend. He claims to have gotten to know him over the past couple of years. Though Edwards almost certainly is closer to LeBron than you or I, there is no evidence that Edwards has earned a spot in LeBron's highly-protected inner sanctum. So for him to speculate that LeBron might not like playing here would seem to be an act that needlessly irritates an already-exposed nerve among Northeast Ohio sports fans. Without considering that LeBron's fans are also his fans, Kid Braylon again did something without considering the consequences.

In Edwards' defense, it is easy to understand the nature of his comments. He, like a lot of area fans, was probably hurt by the fact that the most famous and influential athlete in the state, maybe the country, a man born and raised in Akron and playing for the Cavaliers, would show up and side with the enemy on a day when the Browns could have used all the support available.

Bob Feller made comments similar in nature last October. In response to LeBron's appearance at Game 1 of the Indians-Yankees series, Feller said he'd like to buy a Pistons hat and sit behind the Cavs bench to see how LeBron likes it.

The difference, of course, is that Feller has been retired as a player for more that 50 years. Edwards is an active player who we root for on a weekly basis. Feller also didn't insinuate that LeBron wants out of Cleveland, though you get the feeling that after that game, Feller probably would have gladly driven the car that took LeBron to the airport.

On the heels of an embarrassing performance against Dallas, no matter how Edwards personally felt about LeBron showing up to root for the Cowboys, he should have realized that the last thing he needed to do was spout off to the media about things that don't really concern him, spraying more water on the hornets' nest in the process.

That is the difference between the new, improved Braylon Edwards we saw in 2007 and the Kid Braylon that has returned so far this year. He's in the headlines for his mouth, not his game.

Unless Edwards wants to regress in a big way this year, that has to change as soon as possible.

Playing with a full deck

Lost in the wind and waves of the colossal USC-Ohio State and Browns-Steelers matchups this weekend, the Cavaliers made a little news of their own. Delonte West, whose restricted free agency stood as the last remaining barrier between the Cavs and a training camp free from contract issues, agreed to terms on Friday.

The deal, according to the Akron Beacon Journal's Brian Windhorst, is reportedly for three years and about $13 million, with the final year as an option.

The acquisition of Mo Williams demoted West from the starting point guard's role to quite possibly the eighth or ninth man on the roster, depending on how the rotations shape up in the preseason.

West could end up as the starting shooting guard, but even though he's probably the best defensive player in the backcourt, it's still difficult to envision a rail-thin 6'-4" drive-and-pass combo guard with a spotty perimeter game scoring on and effectively defending the likes of Tracy McGrady, Michael Redd and Ray Allen. The best options for Mike Brown to start at the two-guard are still likely Sasha Pavlovic and Wally Szczerbiak, in that order. So any realistic way you slice it, West is best suited for a bench role behind Williams.

But West's role on the team isn't the point right now. With training camp slated to start soon, the newsworthiness of West's signing is the signing itself.

Last year, the contract holdouts of Pavlovic and Anderson Varejao put the Cavs' season in quicksand from the get-go. Pavlovic didn't agree to terms on a new deal until the eve of the regular season, had to use the early part of the season as his training camp, and then became the first in a long line of Cavs players to miss time with injuries.

Varejao didn't make it back until the Charlotte Bobcats signed him to an offer sheet nearly a month into the season, which the Cavs matched. December was Varejao's training camp.

The holdouts of two key players plus a late-November finger injury to LeBron James put the Cavs in a hole that they never really climbed out of. At one point, they were six games under .500. A roster-altering blockbuster trade later, they finished with 45 wins and the fourth seed in the Eastern Conference.

You know the story of the playoffs. The Cavs knocked out an inferior Wizards team in six games, only to fall one game short against the eventual world champion Celtics in the second round, a seven-game series in which the home team won every game.

If you rewind to last October, it's easy to see how the dominoes lined up to fall against the Cavs last season, and it all started with the holdouts of Varejao and Pavlovic.

This season, that won't be a problem. With West in the fold, Brown and the coaching staff will have a full compliment of players from the outset. It's not a cure-all. Playing-time squabbles and injuries could still hinder the construction of team cohesion, but what is known is that every player who is supposed to be in camp will be there. Instead of starting the season with 15 players in varying states of readiness, the Cavs will start the season with 15 players who have been together, practicing and learning the playbook for more than a month.

With Brown, who is known for complex defensive schemes and lengthy play names, as the coach, the importance of that can't be underscored enough.

As NBA training camp approaches, I get the sense that the iron is getting hot for the Cavs, and the time to strike is approaching. This season might be the best chance the Cavs have to win an NBA title between now and the summer of 2010, when LeBron can opt out of his contract.

There will be no contract issues in training camp. Danny Ferry made a major addition in Williams. The three remaining players from last February's blockbuster -- West, Szczerbiak and Ben Wallace -- will start the season in Brown's system. J.J. Hickson might be the long-sought first-round pick who can actually help the Cavs as a rookie -- he had a monster summer league session to tease us.

Above all, LeBron appeared to take his leadership skills to the next level in the Olympics, proving once again that if LeBron James can't make you better as a basketball player, it's probably time to look for a new line of work.

Even the factors beyond the Cavs' control appear to be aligning in Cleveland's favor. The Pistons, after three straight eliminations in the Eastern Conference Finals, need to take the roster to the shop for a tune-up -- or maybe a total rebuild. They'll begin the season with a new head coach in Michael Curry and a roster that appears to be headed for a state of transition. Three of the team's pillars -- Chauncey Billups, Rip Hamilton and Rasheed Wallace -- are all in their 30s. Tayshaun Prince, like LeBron, will have to shake off Olympic fatigue early in the year. Their major offseason addition was famous draft bust Kwame Brown, who at best is a serviceable role player.

The Celtics lost James Posey to the Hornets in free agency. You could make a case that without Posey, Boston doesn't hold off the Cavs in the second round last spring. Allen, Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce are still a formidable trio, but will all be a year older. Pierce is the youngest, and he'll turn 31 in October.

Even if the Celtics' big three stay healthy all year, it will still be difficult for the whole team to play the the relentless defense and with the unwavering sense of purpose that allowed them to win 66 regular season games and a championship last year. Last year, the Celtics were a team on a mission. It remains to be seen whether Boston can mount the same effort this year for six months of regular season action and two months of playoffs.

I still expect the Celtics to be very good, but some of the edge will likely be worn away. And even at their best, the Cavs still almost beat them.

In the Western Conference, the Lakers and Spurs are still the top dogs in my book, even if the Spurs appeared to look like a team approaching the 19th hole in the Western Conference Finals. The Lakers looked soft against the Celtics in the NBA Finals, but a healthy Andrew Bynum will restore a great deal of toughness to L.A.'s interior game.

The Hornets are knocking on the door with the emergence of Chris Paul as an elite player, not just an elite point guard. The addition of Posey's defense and championship experience could vault New Orleans into the NBA Finals conversation out west.

Also not to be overlooked are the Rockets, who added Ron Artest this summer. If Houston can work with the potentially-volatile concoction of Artest, McGrady and Yao Ming, they could finally take T-Mac beyond the playoff cannon fodder role he's played throughout his career.

This is the right time for the Cavs to get their affairs in order and approach the season squarely focused on an NBA title. The East is winnable for a team like Cleveland, and though the West is perpetually the stronger conference, even the best teams out there have questions to answer. With the re-signing of Delonte West, the Cavs at least know that they can concentrate 100 percent on basketball once the season arrives.