Bob

Batz

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March 17, 2008

Proud to Be an American, and a Cleveland Browns Fan

Here’s a story for all those people who believe patriotism is dead in America.

It happened in Cleveland Browns Stadium late last season, and my wife Sally and I learned about it from our son-in-law, Steve Fryman, when members of our family gathered for dinner on Christmas Eve.

The Browns were playing the Buffalo Bills and it was a frigid, wind-swept day. The temperature was in the teens. Snowflakes swirled in a dull, gray sky and white stuff blanketed the entire football field, making it impossible to see the yard-line markers.

Despite the frightful weather, Browns boosters were crammed into the stadium to watch the game.

Fans with seats on the lower levels were somewhat sheltered from the weather by a roof, but those watching the action from the upper reaches of the stadium were feeling the full force of the frigid wind and blowing snow.

Steve, who attended every Browns home game this season, and our daughter Laurie were sitting where they usually sit – in the stadium’s storied “Dawg Pound” – which meant they had a roof over their heads.

When the first half of the game ended, with the Browns clinging to a slim lead, Steve and Laurie joined thousands of other spectators heading for the stadium’s restrooms, which are always crowded at halftime.

When Steve arrived at the restroom of his choice, dozens of men were already shoehorned into the room and the line snaked out the door and down a corridor.

Most of those awaiting their turn were carrying cups of beer. Many were recalling the highlights – and lowlights – of the first half of the game.

“You could tell the people who had the seats under the roof from those who’d been sitting out in the open because those sitting out in the open were covered with snow,” Steve would later recall.

Like most restroom lines at football games, this one moved agonizingly slow.

Then it happened. Somebody standing near the end of the line shouted “There’s a U.S. Marine in the house!”

Heads turned and eyes fell on a Marine wearing a snow-covered dress uniform and patiently biding his time near the end of the line. He was at the stadium to take part in a pre-game project to collect Christmas toys for needy children.

As the Marine acknowledged the unexpected recognition with a grin and a wave of his hand, others standing in line began to applaud.

Then somebody shouted “Make way there’s a Marine coming through!” and dozens of hands motioned the uniformed man to advance to the front of the line.

As the Marine, looking slightly embarrassed, moved slowly through the crowd, somebody started singing the Marine Corps Hymn.

“From the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli . . .” he sang and soon his solo became a chorus as others joined in the singing.

When the game ended, the Browns were on top by a score of 8-0.

But it wasn’t the final outcome of the game that impressed Steve Fryman most.

“What impressed me was the way the Marine was humbled and embarrassed by all of the attention . . . and the way a bunch of drunken yahoos forgot all about football for a few minutes and in their crazy way paid their respects to a young man for his service to his country . . . and the fact that so many of them actually knew the words to the Marine Corps Hymn.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “It makes me proud to be an American . . . and a Cleveland Browns fan.”

© 2008 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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