Mangin-o Resigns? For Browns Fans, What a Difference a Vowel Would Make

When I heard “Mangino resigned” on Thursday, my heart leapt for a second.

Then reality set in. Mark Mangino resigned, as head coach at the University of Kansas. Eric Mangini remained, defiant as ever, with his heels dug in as coach of the Browns.

And so the 2009 season drones on in Cleveland. As Steve Harvey so eloquently phrased it in his latest Bottom Ten column, their next loss is at home this Sunday against San Diego.

I can almost see it now. Mangini, arms crossed, staring blankly onto the field as his running game goes nowhere. Mangini, scowl on his face, shaking his head in bewilderment as his defensive backs get beat yet again. Mangini, eyes glazed over, waiting until that magical second-half moment when the clock reads 0:00 and he can retreat to the solitude of his Browns Stadium office.

Given Mangini's track record in New York, I wasn’t thrilled when Randy Lerner—remember him?—signed him during the off-season. But I was willing, like everyone else, to give the guy a chance.

Remember, though, how he began his tenure by ripping down a mural of Browns greats at the team's practice facility? How he gave the cold shoulder to Shaun Rogers at a banquet in February? How he brought in a batch of ex-Jets, as if the system he used in New York was the answer to all that ails the franchise? 

Or how about when he fined a player $1701 for taking a bottle of water from a hotel mini-bar? Or waffled throughout the preseason about who would start at quarterback? Or drafted Brian Robiskie in the second round, and then chose to play also-rans and career backups ahead of his high draft pick?

What in the name of Paul Brown is going on here?

We don’t hear much from Mangini any more about the “process.” That was supposedly the rationale behind what we were witnessing from the beginning of training camp until, oh, the fourth or fifth loss of the season. Maybe he still believes it, but, if so, at least he’s keeping it to himself.

Where Mangini lost me, once and for all, was after the Detroit debacle. You remember, the game where his team led, 24-3, after one quarter? The one the other guys won after Cleveland's puzzling clock mismanagement, lousy defense and a stupid penalty set them up for a final, untimed play that resulted in a touchdown?

Fresh from overseeing that miserable meltdown, Mangini chose to begin his press conference the next day by focusing on two things: Questioning the penalty call on the Hail Mary pass that gave the Lions one last shot; and complaining that Detroit players may have faked injuries to slow down the Browns’ no-huddle offense.

First of all, Hank Poteat interfered with Bryant Johnson on the last play of regulation time. You don’t block a guy into the seats and expect the refs to look the other way.

And second, if I’m Mangini, I’d be more concerned about the Browns' no-offense huddles than I would their no-huddle offense. In fact, using the term “offense” to describe what Cleveland does with the ball should only be done in the negative context, as in “an insult.”

The Browns were their own worst enemy that day against Detroit, as they have been all season long. They lost the game. Nobody stole it from them. And Mangini was as guilty as anyone.

With two minutes to go, and a 37-31 lead, the Browns showed an empty backfield on third-and-five. Even the Lions could figure out what was coming. Licking their chops, they hurried Brady Quinn, who made a poor throw. The clock stopped, and Cleveland had to punt.

A running play in that situation, even if unsuccessful, would have left the Lions with barely more than a minute to work with. Instead, Detroit got the ball with 1:46 remaining, and covered 88 yards to set up the final play. Mangenius, it wasn’t.

And so it goes. Mangini talks frequently about his great relationship with Lerner. He says he looks forward to working with the Browns’ new football “czar,” if such a thing even exists, let alone arrives.

But nobody’s buying it. Fans are staying away. The San Diego game didn’t sell out by the NFL’s 72-hour deadline, forcing the Browns, their local CBS affiliate, and other area businesses to band together Friday to prevent a local television blackout. Late-season games against Oakland and Jacksonville remain in danger of being blacked out.

Mangini came to a Cleveland franchise that was in disarray. Did he not know that long-suffering Browns fans longed for, let alone deserved, results? By that I mean five wins, maybe six. No one expected miracles. But everyone hoped for progress.

Instead, we got “process.” We got ineptitude. We got promises and assurances from a seemingly detached owner.

We got sandbagged.

Fed up? You bet. Fired up? If you don’t already know the answer to that, then you don’t know Browns fans.

For a brief, shining moment on Thursday, it seemed as though all was right with the world.

But for one little vowel, it almost was.

Mark Mangino, we hardly knew ye. Eric Mangini, we're beginning to wish we never had.