Indians Fever I'm Not A Believer

It’s no secret that the Indians have become an afterthought in this town. With the King holding Cleveland hostage and the new Browns regime, the Indians have taken the backseat in Cleveland sports.

I’ve spent my whole life living in Cleveland. I’m 23 (24 this Sunday!), so I was just starting to really come into sports consciousness around the time that the Indians were starting their great ‘90’s run.

My fondest sports memories are of those teams. I remember 1995 like it was yesterday. I was rooting for Carlos Baerga, screaming when I saw T-25, Thomenator come up on the scoreboard at the stadium, and ecstatic when Kenny Lofton signed my hat. The best birthday present I ever received was getting my name on that scoreboard.

Now football is my favorite sport to watch, and basketball is my favorite to play, but baseball is my favorite experience. Or at least it was. It used to be that I could stomach a bad team. A day at the park was still great (and the Jake is a great park to have that experience). But this organization has killed my passion for this sport.

It’s about the lack of hope. At this point the bad Indians almost provide a sense of relief. I’ve realized that I’d rather have this bad team than a good one where we trade everyone I root for away at the first sign of trouble. Nothing is more of a big "suck it" to your fan base than getting rid of players without even trying to sign them. I get that guys will leave and you want something for them. But they don’t always leave. This is still a great town, and for every Albert Belle or Manny Ramirez there is a Kenny Lofton or Omar Vizquel.

Then you get the prospects. Baseball 101 will tell you that prospects will either fail or succeed. But if you’re an Indians fan it’s a lose-lose. If they fail you get nothing for your great players. If they succeed you’re shipping them out for more prospects. C.C., Cliff, and Victor will tell you. And there’s no doubt in my mind that someday Santana and Sizemore (if he ever comes back to form) will tell you too. And if they somehow manage to stumble into a winning season, then they’ll still trade the stars at the first sign of trouble, and go on about that season like it was the greatest ever until the next one (remember how the Tribe was one win away from the World Series? That’s right, you do because the Dolan’s won’t let you forget).

There was a time when the Indians were the world. I’d wake up, play baseball, eat, and watch the Tribe. Actually going to a game made my week. If I could get out of school for it, even better. A decade later, they’d be lucky to get me for an at-bat. I have no faith in this franchise. My attitude is if they’re not going to try, then why should I?

Maybe 1995 spoiled me. But I don’t care. I’m sick of it. I want something to cheer for. I want a commitment to winning. I want to be passionate about the Indians again. But I know it won’t happen. And that’s what makes the Indians so soul-crushing.