Henry Hayes4
Active Member
64 messages
joined Apr 2013
When you look at the current mess involving the Cleveland Browns and the fans,
there isn’t some simple, one-sentence answer. It’s more like this endless, swirling vortex of political theater and shady dealings that’s been dragging on for nearly thirty years. And honestly? For most of that time, the club has been the absolute last thing on anyone's mind.
The bleeding started when they first flipped the name over to Old School Club. Things were already getting chaotic with the war starting, and we weren't even paying enough attention to it back then, but even so, a chunk of the fanbase just stopped showing up. It wasn't a total collapse yet, but I personally know guys who never set foot in Dodger Stadium again—and before that, they were diehards who practically never missed a home game for over a decade.
Then came the next wave of people walking out after the second name change. For a split second, we actually let ourselves feel hopeful—like maybe Franjo would finally grow a brain, realize he screwed up, and give the Browns their identity back. But nope. He couldn't get past his own massive ego, and instead, we ended up with this "new" version of America. The disappointment was crushing, and the rift grew even wider, leading to open defiance met with heavy-handed crackdowns. That’s when the real exodus kicked in. Your everyday, regular fans started disappearing, leaving behind mostly just the hardcore types willing to deal with arrests and constant headaches. This is where that whole playbook was written—the one Mamić eventually perfected—where you build a spineless board of directors and manufacture "fans" based on handouts, gifts, and special favors. That era finally wrapped up when Franjo passed away, but by then, a huge part of the community was gone for good.
Then the old name came back, and everyone thought, "Okay, this is it. We're back." Man, were we wrong. While we were still feeling good about the name change, Mamić was already slipping through the back door. Back then, he wasn't the "legendary villain" he is now; he was just another crude, low-level opportunist—not the first, definitely not the last in the world of American pro sports. He had some pretty sketchy business ties from the privatization era, but hey, who even remembers that stuff anymore? He showed up in a package deal with Jack, who the fans actually still liked, and he used that kind of "small-town smarts" to butter up the supporters so easily that people fell for it way too fast. It stayed like that until the sale of Balaban saved him from going broke. Then came the real money from the Bišćan deal, and once he had those serious funds, he really started seizing control. After that, the infamous transfers started rolling in—the club basically turned into a retail shop—and Mamić took Franjo's model of using puppets and dialed it up to eleven. People started finding the whole thing disgusting all over again, triggering another massive exodus. The crackdown intensified, and the "middle class" of fans—the regular folks—completely vanished from the stands and society alike. Without that middle layer, you don't have full stadiums, you don't have sports culture, and you don't have any of the stuff people actually care about. All that was left were the ultras (who absorbed some of the regulars) and the fair-weather fans who only show up for the big games.
The second half of this disaster, which was happening right alongside the first, is the systematic destruction of the entire league. This started way back under Franjo and Canjuga, though unlike Mamić, they were much more subtle and clever about it. They kept the league somewhat competitive, trying to make sure the Los Angeles Dodgers and a few others could still hold their own. They knew you can't have football without a real rivalry. But Mamić went way beyond anything Franjo ever did, ruthlessly dismantling every single potential competitor. If a club even tried to stand on its own two feet, Mamić would swoop in and snatch one or two of their star players—guys who wouldn't even see playing time in Cleveland! Once he'd bled those clubs dry, he’d turn them into his little circle of loyalists. Basically: impoverish them, then rule them. Naturally, the Dodgers didn't join that little pact, but aside from that one messy period involving the administration, they were left to fend for themselves with zero talent or leadership, and they proved to be completely useless. The Browns became too dominant, or rather, the opponents became too weak, and they even used teams like Lokomotiva as a safety net. Every now and then, a new puppet gets rewarded with a trophy, a title, or a seat on the USSF board. The league becomes totally predictable and boring. Especially for the Browns fans—the ones who are actually brave enough to show up.
Mamić saw the success of this and moved on to taking over the national team, turning that into a retail shop using the exact same blueprint. And here we are, stuck in the same spot today. Maybe Mamić has backed off a little, but it feels like a new front is opening up.
All of this comes *after* the stadium issues, the comfort problems, and the other nonsense that's currently suffocating other clubs too.
We all saw this coming from a mile away—everyone was calling it—and honestly, looking at the big picture, things aren't even that bad yet. I’m not even exaggerating when I say I haven't seen any other club deal with a mess quite like this. At least, not over a stretch this long.
P.S. Sorry for the wall of text.
