The Optimist

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I’m an Optimist and I’m just gonna address the 800-pound elephant in the room. Or is it a 600-pound gorilla in the room? Whatever enormous animal is lurking in the room, TheBron has crossover-dribble and tomahawk-dunked on its hairy arse. We’ve all seen it.

And tonight, for the second time in his Hall of Fame career, the King will take the floor from the visitor’s locker room – although no one expects the same hysterics as his first visit back in 2010.

Personally speaking, I sure didn’t come here to throw any negative vibes TheBron’s way. No sir!

I have traveled hundreds of thousands of millions of miles with Numeral 23 over his career as a Cavalier – aboard the Team Bus when Big Z (Zydrunas Ilgauskas) was soaking his feets in the beer cooler back in 2003 and aboard the War Rig when Big Z (Ante Zizic) was soaking his feets in the beer cooler in 2018 – tradition, as we all know, for the biggest European/Eurasian on the squad.

I’ve been through the battles with TheBron, baby.

He’s my favorite athlete of all-time and the man who delivered on his promise to bring a World Championship to the city of Cleveland. He’s a great human being and is truly more than an athlete. I cherish the time he was here and if and when he gets a standing ovation at The Q tonight, you better believe I’ll be a part of it.

But because TheBron has chosen to load up the Metallic Pea Wagon Queen Family Truckster and take the tribe cross-country to Tinseltown, he has chosen sides against the Wine and Gold.

So I’ll also have some bad news for Akron’s favorite son near the end of this column.

And as long as we’re coming clean, I’ll also be honest with you readers …

I didn’t write today just on accounta TheBron is back. I’ve seen him lots of times.

I’m writing because I didn’t want another year to pass without honoring a Thanksgiving hero – something I’ve done in the past but have neglected to do over the past couple seasons.

The tradition of the Presidential “pardoning” of a turkey at Thanksgiving goes back to Ronald Reagan, who tried adding some levity to a press conference about the Iran-Contra Scandal in 1987. But the actual reprieve itself goes way back to John F. Kennedy, who famously quipped: “Let’s, er’ah, keep this one going.”

Since then, lucky birds (and their alternates) have ranged from “Biscuits” and “Gravy” in 2004 to “Mac” and “Cheese” in 2014 to this year’s winner – 48-pound “Drumstick” from Alexandria, Minnesota.

But no bird in the history of the event has been so bold, so brash, so gosh-darned DARING -- (!!) – as the Death Row escapee named “Liberty” (pictured) who let his freak flag fly back in 2001.

Year after year, I’d paid tribute to Liberty, but hadn’t done so in the recent past – and for that, I apologize.

Any turkey with the giblets to jam its snood into the Most Powerful Man in the World’s midsection in front of high-ranking cabinet members – (and lived to squawk about it!) -- deserves our Annual Recognition. You’ll not convince me otherwise.

And for those of you who think I’m somehow poking fun at George Bush or the Office of the President, I can assure you it’s anything but.

I applaud George Bush for his compassion and good-sportsmanship in a bang-bang situation – and you can see his quick-thinking response in the photo. Dick Cheney would’ve choked that gobbler out faster than you can say “Butterball.”

And as long as we’re coming really clean, I didn’t write today just on accounta TheBron is back and that I wanted to salute Liberty the turkey for Thanksgiving.

Leafing through my dailies, I noticed that we were literally bursting at the seams on November 21 – loaded with such heavyweights that, to the educational chagrin of little Jeffy Schaefer, we’ll have to skim over Today in History with just a cursory nod to General Framework Agreement Day, celebrating the end of the war in Bosnia and Herzegovina – signed in 1995 at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, where the Wine and Gold Scrimmage took place this past October.

And if you think general frameworks are pretty sweet, then get a load of today’s Birthdays – featuring Stan “The Man” Musial, Marlo “That Girl” Thomas, Olden “This Guy” Polynice, actress Goldie Hawn, Voltaire, Stromile Swift, Dick Durbin, Icelandic recording superstar Bjork, Harold Ramis, Michael Strahan, Carly Rae Jepsen, the Men’s Warehouse guy George Zimmer, Troy Aikman, Reggie Lewis, Ken Griffey Jr. and Dr. John, who’s not actually a doctor.

And we’ve saved the best for last – as “best” as honoring those Dead On This Day and Still Dead can be, I guess.

I’m not talking about Bill Bixby, who could turn into a giant green bodybuilder just by losing his temper or David Cassidy, easily the dreamiest member of the Partridge Family whose single – “I Think I Love You” – once reached No. 9 on Billboard charts.

No, I normally pride myself on this being a non-secular column that stays away from religion. But the seventh century Irish saint – Columbanus a/k/a “St. Columban” – put up such jaw-dropping stats that I have little choice but to recognize his death-day.

I won’t even waste your time with the stuff about birds landing on his shoulder to be caressed or squirrels coming down from the trees to nestle in his cowl. That’s small potatoes compared to the 10 major accomplishments he brings to his canonization.

Check it. Throughout the course of his career, Columbanus …

1. Procured food for a sick monk and cured the wife of his benefactor

2. Escaped injury while surrounded by wolves

3. Caused a bear to evacuate a cave at his biddings

4. Produced a spring of water near his cave

6. Multiplied bread and beer for his community

7. Cured sick monks, who rose from their beds at his request to reap the harvest

9. Destroyed – with his breath – a cauldron of beer prepared for a pagan festival

Tonight, we’re going to go nuts for a bunch of NBA players, but I’ll bet there isn’t a single one besides Steven Adams that can evacuate a bear from its cave at his bidding, let alone yoke it to a plow.

And in terms of saint resumes, I’m sure Mother Theresa has done some pretty dope stuff in Calcutta. But let’s be honest: she’s kind of a piker compared to Columbanus.

I’m sorry. I call it like I see it. And now I have to call tonight’s action how I see it – by dropping my three favorite letters …

That, as you know, stands for Guaranteed Win Night.

I know the young Cavaliers have had some rocky moments so far this season. And after thumping the Lakers tonight at The Q, they might have more down the road. But tonight belongs to the Wine and Gold. If TheBron scores 51, Jordan Clarkson will just have to score 52.

By tomorrow, we’ll all have moved on from it and we’ll focus on our loved ones and food and football on Thanksgiving Day.

And later that night, the Cavaliers caravan will load up the War Rig up for Philly.

Maybe for the ride, I’ll fill up a five-gallon bucket with neckbones and smushed yams and turkey skins and gizzards and all that other crap and give it to my personal Security Apparatus: little Joey Vitanza, who we stuff with the luggage and gear under the vehicle. He’ll go to town on it the entire ride – that loveable little varmint!

Enjoy tonight’s victory and enjoy the victory meal on Thanksgiving, y’uns! And if I don’t get a chance to check back, Happy Holidays, Cavalier fans! Happy Holidays, Liberty the turkey! Happy Holidays, Columbanus! Happy Holidays, Swish! Happy Holidays, Mama G! Happy Holidays, Bjork!

And yes, Happy Holidays to you too, TheBron. Thanks for everything you gave us over 11 unforgettable seasons – on and off the floor.

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Cavs.com's Sunshine Analyst Checks in from The Land

As-salamu alaykum, die-hard Cavalieros. I’m the one they call “Optimist” – back on the North Coast, refreshed, reloaded and ready to rumble.

While the national punditry poops its collective pampers, you and I – seasoned Championship-winning veterans that we are – take solace in the fact that we’ve been here before.

Oh-2 ain’t no thing to the Wine and Gold. We spotted Golden State two wins after four games last June – and that all seemed to turn out pretty well.

Am I saying there isn’t a sense of urgency as the high-powered Dubs – winners of 29 of their last 30 games – roll into Cleveland for the first time since Kyrie Irving egested a steaming lump of coal into their eggnog back on Christmas Day?

I’m saying that we know from experience that it is an obstacle that can be overcome.

But the Cavaliers are gonna need a whole lotta mo’ from everyone to overcome this new-and-improved version of the Warriors. Kevin Durant has been the difference in the series. And Cleveland will need production from everyone who sees action to offset his presence.

So, if you tuned in today to see me flailing about, barking out rally-platitudes and instructions on where to hide the womenfolk and children, you done picked the wrong column.

In fact, I’m gonna do what I always do when I need to calm down and focus (so I don’t hurt myself or others): I’m gonna take a deep breath, channel my inner-T. Lue and make myself a nice List.

I’m not here to set strategy. I’m just here to provide a firm – but in no way intimate – crack on your rear end that says: “Let’s defend the Land, yo!!
Photo by The Optimist

Most people (especially in Cleveland) know from the exterior packaging of the famous window leg-lamp that the word “FRAGILE” is, in fact, Italian, meaning: “something you don’t-a wanna break”

A win streak can be fragile. One small thing can send it crashing to the ground.

Last year, the Cavaliers hit Golden State with what Steve Kerr described as “great force” at home in Game 3. Tristian Thompson set the tone early – turning the energy level to 11 and hitting the Warriors – who’d won Game 2 by 33 points – with something they didn’t see coming.

The Warriors won a close one in Game 4, but the Cavaliers were off the ropes and swinging again.

Fans of the fight game remember a run back in the mid-80s in that weird Post-Ali / Pre-Tyson Era when the last Russian heavyweight to hold the belt – Ivan Drago – had an utterly dominant run: knocking out and killing former champ Apollo Creed and brow-beating reigning champ Rocky Balboa in successive fights.

But after a while, all the winning, all the training, the hair care, the weight of a nation and the completely ridiculous amounts of HGH he was spiking caught up with Drago. And when Balboa – whose training included running up mountains and dead-lifting mule-carts – drew blood in Round 3 of their rematch, it was all over but the shoutin’.

The Warriors haven’t seen any semblance of adversity this offseason.

Do you – as I do – get the feeling that Uncle Drew is about to go on an offensive rampage?

The four-time All-Star was rock-solid in Game 1, with numbers comparable to Curry’s. And the Cavaliers Big Three was on point – like the power trio of Athos, Aramis and Porthos. But for much of Game 2, the Cavaliers were reduced to a dynamic duo – like Tango and Cash or Chest Rockwell and Brock Landers.

More than Love – even more than TheBron – Kyrie is like a jazz artist on the floor. He hasn’t expressed himself in the series yet. He hasn’t riffed a lick. And he’s ready to jam.

On Wednesday night, the Deuce gets loose.

3. The Law of Role Players Playing Better at Home

Even the dummkopf international NBA reporters that've taken over Johnny’s Little Bar this week know this basketball truism. It’s essentially an NBA by-law – like Danny Ferry taking the ball out of bounds after a made basket or a team winning the next game after firing their coach.

The Cavaliers haven’t gotten much from their reserves through the first two games of the series.

But the Cavaliers haven’t played at The Q in a fortnight – their last home contest was May 23, Game 4 against Boston – and tonight is the best opportunity they’ll get to recharge their batteries moving forward.

Despite the final scores, Cleveland has been right in both ballgames. Kyle Korver, Deron Williams, Channing Frye and J.R. Smith can all heat up in a hurry.

It’s time for the Wine and Gold’s reserves to lead a third-quarter scoring spree.

Your support – by all NBA analytics – will help greatly.

The Cavaliers have come back from 0-2 deficits twice to win a seven-game series.

Once was last year’s Championship run against the Warriors. The other was the 2007 Eastern Conference Finals against the Pistons.

We all remember what happened in each of those series.

We've been here before Cavs fans, against the same foe, and not too long ago ...
Photo by Thearon W. Henderson/NBAE via Getty Images

Has there ever been a Cleveland athlete in your lifetime that you trust more than TheBron to get this done?

Numeral 23 didn’t come this far just to come this far.

5. Jeff Schaefer’s Stringent Educational Demands

Believe you me, I wish we didn’t have to go to history class either. But that little PR beanpole we call “Schaef” will rat us out quicker than you can say “Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire” – who would’ve been 260 on This Day in History, June 7.

Not a heck of a lot happened on this Date – not much good anyhow.

The best thing that ever happened on this day was Priscilla Presley opening Graceland to the public back in 1982.

The worst thing that ever happened on this date was when anti-alcohol crusader Carrie Nation kicked off her reign of Temperance terror back in 1899 – traveling around the panhandle, singing church hymns and smashing up saloons with her trademark hatchet while a bunch of old-timey drunks yelled “WHOA! WHOA! WHOA!”

Schaef is really lucky that today’s Birthdays – smack-dab in the middle of the NBA Finals, when we have more important things to worry about – are off-the-charts mint.

Today’s Birthday boys and girls include super-heavyweights like broadcasting legend Jim McKay, Hall of Famer Allen Iverson, late-great musical icon Prince, current tennis pariah Anna Kournikova, Rafa Hernandez-Brito’s baseball idol and the pride of Canton – Thurman Munson, literary genius Henry Miller, Steubenville’s own Dean Martin, the Vice President of the United States Mike Pence, Nets legend Drazen Petrovic and actor Liam Neeson – who has a particular set of skills, but none of those skills include being able to make foxy women throw their underpants at him on stage.

That expertise belongs to legendary Welsh recording superstar and timeless sex machine, Tom Jones, who turns 77 years young today.

Plenty of so-called bigshots Died on This Day and if I had to guess, I’d say nearly all of them still are. But talking about dead folk when we’ve got Game 3 on tap is a bigger buzzkill than Carrie Nation and her coven of church-ladies, smashing up perfectly good kegs of booze with their axes, singing “Bringing In the Sheaves.”

On Wednesday night we have the first of FOUR Championship games that our beloved Cavaliers need to win in order to repeat as Flat World Champs. And we need all the positive juice we can get.

They’re going to give it all to you tonight. They’ll need every bit of it back.

I’m not talking about just the 20,562 frothing lunatics packed into Quicken Loans Arena in a few hours. I’m talking about every Cavalier fan around the area, around the country and around the globe – all focusing their girded loins squarely on the mothership later tonight.

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The Optimist in the NBA Finals

Cavs.com's Sunshine Analyst Checks in from The Bay

Aloha, bold and beautiful ones! It’s me, an Optimist, checking in from the Barbary Coast. Are y’uns ready?

OK. I know what some of you are thinking: ‘Hey Optimist, what kind of fresh hell is this?! You showing back up on the eve of the NBA Finals …”

And I have not one, but two, ironclad alibis: One, I was seeing a man about a dog. And two, I was having coffee with the boys.

There. If that doesn’t suffice, then I don’t know what else to say to you people.

Sure, it’s been a while since I whipped out my ink-tipped quill and penned a piece. I suppose I felt that now that we’d won Championship, the training wheels were off and my services were no longer needed. Heck, all the Junior Optimists have grown up and moved off to college!

I’ve even packed away TheBron’s Angry-o-Meter.

Today’s millennials don’t want to do meter-readings! And unless Draymond Green does so in the coming days, not a single foe has poked the bear this offseason. It only took 12 years in the Playoffs, but Eastern Conference opponents have finally figured it out: one minute, you’re poking the bear; the next minute, your GM is packing up a box.

I’m going to keep it at the ready, just in case Draymond Green tries any of his below-the-belt shenanigans. But I’m expecting a good, clean series betwixt the Association’s two best teams.

The way the Cavaliers have been playing in this postseason actually hasn’t required any optimism whatsoever.

Who needs a Playoff Beard™ when you’ve got the best player on planet Earth in full flower? Or when you’ve got a red-hot Kevin Love averaging a double-double in the postseason or an equally-scorching Kyrie Irving two games removed from a 42-point outburst?

Tristan Thompson is the top offensive rebounder in the postseason, giving the team that averaged almost 117 points per that many more possessions. Swish and Shump are laser-focused on the defensive end. Off the bench, the triumvirate of Kyle Korver, Deron Williams and Channing Frye is shooting a combined 48 percent from way downtown.

Our beloved Cavaliers – who’ve won nine straight road games in the Playoffs – overcame a 25-point halftime deficit against Indy and they scored over 100 more points from long-range than the Raptors.

In the Conference Finals, Cleveland thumped the top-seeded Celtics in they own gym by 30 points per – not allowing them or their insufferable fans to enjoy a lead at any point in Boston. (That’s what they get for throwing an egg at mi hermano and former Cavs Graphics Director, Mark Podolak, during a Playoff game two years ago. An egg!!!)

My boy, Podes, doesn’t care about the Conference. He’s worried about the Warriors – who’ve had an even more impressive march to this year’s Finals.

I’m aware of that fact. I’m also aware of the fact that the Larry O’Brien Trophy’s aurelian glow still beams over CLEVELAND.

We are the Champions, my friend. Our Cavaliers took the Warriors to six games with TheBron and Delly two seasons ago. Last year, they beat a 73-win squad three straight to win the NBA title.

So I say: Playoff Beard, Schmlayoff Beard!!

Shave away! I hope your face is smoother than a baby’s buttucks. The Cavaliers will still take us to the Promised Land. And your best girl will appreciate that clean, close shave along the way.

So, no, you folks definitely don’t need any extra optimism from me at this point.

This is more like a special guest trying to fire up the locker room – like Urban Meyer bringing in TheBron to fire up the Buckeyes or our new friend, Matthew McConaughey firing up the Longhorns.

I’m not here to set strategy. I’m just here to provide a firm – but in no way intimate – crack on your rear end that says: “Let’s defend the Land, yo!!”

Because this is more of a check-up than a full-fledged procedure, I’m going to pay heed to our historical milestones only because skeletal PR know-it-all Jeff “Schaef” Schafer demands this column provides some sort of redeeming educational value.

On This Date – May 31 – in History, the last Model-T rolled off the Ford assembly line after producing over 15 million vehicles, Madison Square Garden opened to the public and Vanity Fair magazine revealed that former FBI Deputy Director Mark Felt was the anonymous whistleblower, “Deep Throat,” in the Watergate scandal.

And, of course, if it’s a day that ends in “Y” that must mean that Ghengis Khan sacked and marauded another hapless nomadic tribe – this time, the Cumans at the Battle of the Kalka River.  Never a dull moment with that guy!

Today’s Birthdays include super-heavyweights like Clint Eastwood, Joe Namath, the great John Bonham, iconic goalie Jim Craig, Walt Whitman, former Indian Kenny Lofton, former Cavalier Matt Harpring and former and current fox, Brooke Shields.

Notables Dead on This Day and, by all scientific and medical logic, are Still Dead include Petronius Maximus – who was stoned by an angry mob on his way out of town after just 78 days in office – as well Jean Stapleton, Tito Puente, Terry Sawchuk and Timothy Leary. Today also marks the passing, in 1321, of Birger, King of Sweden – who, contrary to popular belief, is not the founder of Burger King in Sweden – where they call the Whopper with Cheese “DeWhopper with Cheese” and they put the mayonnaise on their french fries.

Now that that’s taken care of, I feel like we’re ready to rumble. Our well-girded loins looked locked and loaded and now it’s time to play ball and see who’s best.

Until we do, I’m going to enjoy my time away from the game in the beautiful city of San Francisco. Of course, I’ll be traveling with my personal security detail – fellow Garbage Heights paisan, Joe Vitanza.

Sure he’s not as intimidating or skilled in the deadly arts as some of the Cavs player’s bodyguards – who’ll crush your larynx and/or coccyx faster than you can say ‘Zarko Cabarkapa.’

No, I won’t insult our full-time badasses by comparing Joe V to them. They’re pros. He’s just a vicious little animal from my hometown who knows how to protect the Cleveland of Cleveland’s greatest asset.

Cavs in 6 – “Cleveland, This is For You, 2: Electric Bugaloo”!

Depending on how things go with Draymond in the first two games, I’ll see about unpacking and dusting off the Angry-o-Meter. Right now, it’s lodged between the E-Master™ 1500 E-Mailing Machine and “Big Bank” Hank Egan’s old Highlight-Pro Model 950 8mm film projector, which ran on diesel fuel.

Other than that, I think my work here is done.

In conclusion, some of you might think that I’m going to guarantee a victory in Game 1 on accounta it’s Joe Namath’s birthday. But I’m not. I’m nobody’s minstrel.

No … I’m gonna go ahead and guaran-damn-tee the Whole Enchilada.

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The Optimist in the Finals

Shalom, fellow World Champions! It’s me, the Optimist – making camp in lower Manhattan as the Cavaliers' caravan hits the open road for a fortnight.

The Wine and Gold have six wins to get on a road trip that stretches from Friday night’s victory over the Nets in Brooklyn through their triumph over the Warriors in Oakland on Martin Luther the King Day.

I know I haven’t checked in for a while. I guess I just didn’t want to rub it in your faces that on this, my 2016-17 Farewell Tour, I’ve been racking up major booty all over the NBA landscape.

Nobody needs to know about all the stuff that visiting venues have bestowed upon me, like Indiana presenting me with an authentic Hickory Huskers uniform – complete with the wee shorts – or Milwaukee, giving me not one, but TWO cheese-wheels, including 66 different types of cheese from three different kinds of animals – (cow, goat and sheep) – that included Swiss, Roquefort, Vacherin Mont d’Or, Havarti. Stinking Bishop, Limburger and Colorado Blackie.

But me, I’m not a material guy. I prefer the good-natured well-wishings from guys like former Piston great and current color analyst Rick Mahorn who, on our last visit to the Palace, playfully put me into a headlock for two-and-a-half minutes, causing a serious cerebral hypoxia episode which then caused me to lose consciousness for several minutes afterward.

Naturally, I always remember to focus on task at-hand: Defending the Land.

It’s not all fun and games out here on the open road – devouring cheese and having ex-Bad Boys crush your trachea.

Heavy IS the head that wears the crown, my friends. It’s a good thing we have a King.

What excites me now about our Eastern Conference-leading Cavaliers isn’t just said King winning 13 of his last 14 starts or Uncle Drew’s recent run of double-doubles or Kevin Love’s return to his feral days as a young Timberwolf.

When money-time rolls around in April, we all know what the Big Three are capable of.

No, what tickles the Optimist’s medulla oblongata is the thought of Channing Frye, RJ, Shump, Champ, Jordan McRae and the little big man: Kay Felder. These are the pieces that will determine how far the Wine and Gold will go this spring.

I could run down a list of statistics showing why all of the aforementioned Cavaliers have led the squad to the top of the Conference, but you can get all that bullocks if you’re able to stay awake through Joe G’s Five Keys.

I thought today, because the Cavaliers are just shoving off on this elongated road trip, instead of the usual stuff, I’d give you a quick behind-the-scenes look at life on the road – from my perspective, anyway.

So I hope you didn’t go this far to read about Nancy Kerrigan getting smacked in the right knee on This Day in History back in 1994. Or for us to celebrate the Birthdays of Alex Turner, Joan of Arc, John Singleton or E.L. Doctorow. And I sure hope you didn’t tune in to read about heavyweights like Lou Rawls, Rudolf Nureyev and Theodore Roosevelt, who Died on This Day and, through no fault of my own, are still deader than Kelsey’s nuts.

CAVS TO DON WINE JERSEYS
        From where to catch all the action to Friday's game notes, Cavs.com has you covered.

Get into the conversation with other die-hards.

Because today I wanted to write a little bit about travel.

We used to travel on the regular Team Bus – occasionally upgrading to the EM-50 Urban Assault Vehicle for trips up to Detroit. Now, of course, we travel aggressively in the War Rig – 2000 horse-power of nitro-boosted war machine. Big Mo, as he has and ever shall be, is the driver of the Rig.

Custom dictates that the tallest European player gets to soak his feet in ice bucket/beer cooler, but since the current Cavaliers have no such player, native Canadian Tristan Thompson (deservedly) marinates his big dogs in the bucket. Being the extra-cool guy that he is, Double-T will gladly fish you out a cold brew – not to mention his feet being 50 times cleaner than say, Semih Erden’s.

Because the Cavaliers are so high-profile, led by a true triumvirate of NBA rock stars, the team demands security personnel. It is a reality of professional sports travel.

This year, once again, the team has allowed me to bring along my own personal security apparatus (and fellow Garbage Heights Bulldog) – Joe Vitanza, a hideous man-child who would gladly maul any potential assailant. He understands simple commands and certain hand-signals and sleeps under the War Rig with the suitcases and equipment.

When he's hungry, I pick up a pack of ground meat and some Mike’n’Ikes if we pass a Winn-Dixie or an A&amp;P when we stop to fuel up.

Following closely behind the Rig at almost all times in their customized 1977 Chevy Hop-Cap van is the Cavaliers' three beat reporters – the great Jason Lloyd (Akron Beacon-Journal), “Sweet” Dave McMenamin (ESPN) and the Cleveland Plain Dealer’s pugnacious ink slinger, Joe Vardon – covering the team and occasionally solving mysteries, time permitting.

The trio has the brains, the brawn and the charm to work their way in – and then out of nearly any situation. Sometimes the team will kibbutz with them if we’re making a Pilot stop.

But you probably want to hear about the Big Dog, right? The Alpha-Male. The Capo de tutti Capi.

But after a while, you just mind your business and get used to it.

Of course I’m talking about a man we call “Cobra” – the Wine and Gold’s Director of Team Operations.

Without Cobra, other alpha-dogs like me and TheBron wouldn’t know whether to crap or wind our watches out here. On the road, Cobra runs the show. And without him, nothing would run.

He’s a quiet guy who doesn’t like attention, but if you’ve watched your share of Cavalier games, you’ve seen him and know who he is.

For those who need a description, I’d say most of my readers have either seen a prison movie or have been to prison. And you know that every one of those films has two characters: One, a lovable, seasoned con who can get anything for you – whether it’s sweet poster for your cell or some guys off your case in the projection room. And two, a hardened warden, bent on maintaining order with an iron fist.

Nobody knows his real name or has the grapes to ask. But Cobra runs the entire operation and if you take away nothing else from this road expose – please know that.

He’ll be running the show ship-shape the rest of the way, friends. So tune in tonight and every night as the Wine and Gold go West.

I’ll try to be more transparent about my farewell gifts on the road in the future. And I’ll gladly share my remaining bounty of cheese with anyone who asks. I still have a few gifts I’m hoping to get – like that nice Frankincense I requested earlier this year (I’m looking at you, Denver!)

Remember, if you’re going out schlooking for the Cavaliers game tonight – trying to wolf down the last of those Christmas Ales – please call a cab or an Uber. Saturday Morning You will thank Friday Night You.

As for the rest of you, please do your darndest to …

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The Optimist Checks in from Brooklyn

Hau, sanguine Sons and Daughters of the Cuyahoga! Yes, I’m an Optimist. And yes, I understand the importance of tonight’s Cavaliers matchup against the Houston Rockets at The Q.

But I’m here today on a different kind of business. That business is the Cleveland Sports Renaissance™ and, specifically the Cleveland Indians role in its furtherance.

Perhaps you thought I’d emerge on Thursday or Friday, after the Tribe pulled off their fait accompli, just in time to dance around with my pants off (presumably) in the Championship parade.

I took an oath as Optimist to act. Not to re-act. To hash. Not to RE-hash!

And when the Tribe fell, 3-2, on Sunday night at Wrigley Field, as much as we collectively told ourselves: ‘This is good, we’ll wrap it up at home,’ I don’t know if that’s the kind of mindset we’re looking for.

So I’m here to give you – Cleveland and Indians Nation abroad -- one important piece of advice on this seminal day in Cleveland sports history …

Gird your loins, people. Gird ‘em up good.

We’re Cleveland. We don’t “wrap things up.” Who in the cuss do we think we are to have that luxury?!

We know, expsecially around these parts, that things are Earned and Not Given.

And we know – or at least we should – that one of the universe’s immutable truths, like death and taxes and not walking the leadoff man after the seventh inning or the George Carlin Rule about never, ever driving behind an old man in a hat is this …

When you have a good team down – in a game or a series – you must put thy foot on they throat and put them away, post haste. No reprieve. No breathing room.

That’s the way the maestro, Terry Francona, has managed the entire postseason. And that’s the way he’s gonna put down this Cubs insurgency tonight.

It was unlikely that the Tribe – as hot as they were – were going to sweep a 103-win ballclub all three games in Chicago. And Cleveland, let’s be honest with ourselves, there’s NO WAY we were ready to celebrate the Championship on Sunday night. NONE.

CAVS TO DON WINE JERSEYS.
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It was a chilly night and – aside from the loyal fans at the Watch Party – most of us were either half-sloppy or all nestled away, comfy-cozy in our post-Browns stupor. We weren’t anywhere near ready to celebrate on Sunday night.

But tonight, the weather will be gorgeous – befitting of the Baseball Gods, smiling on our city.

You don’t need me to tell you how primed the Tribe is to win the 2016 Championship tonight.  I don’t need to explain the unflappable Carlos Santana’s versatility or the JK Kid’s rugged, consistent leadership or Frankie Lindor’s meteoric path to superstardom.  You don’t need me to tell you that the Klubot has been the ace of aces or that opponents don’t know whether to shart or wind their watch when Andrew Miller toes the rubber.

And you certainly don’t need me to spell out how every button Tito Francona’s pushed and every lever he’s pulled this postseason has worked to perfection – like the astronauts who put all that crap together to get Apollo 13 home.

Instead, I’ll tell you a story from backstage at Game 7 of the NBA Finals in Oakland.

This story didn’t happen to me, but it did happen to someone with the Cavaliers that I almost consider a brother. Since we won the title that night and everything, I’m sure he won’t mind its re-telling.

Before both teams took the floor for layup line, just outside of the cavernous visitor’s locker room at Oracle Arena, Cavaliers veteran James Jones went man-to-man, my friend included, and looked him straight in the eye.

[And when James Jones looks at you with those serious eyes and speaks to you directly, it’s as if Champ’s looking into the depths of your soul...]

He said: “In three hours, you’re gonna be World Champions.”

That story still literally gives me chills.

On Sunday night, the city wasn’t ready. But it is now. And now it’s time for our beloved Indians to sup the sweet, succulent nectar of victory atop the major sports mountaintop.

The Cavaliers will do their part, getting everyone lathered up for the party.

Kyrie doesn’t have an Angry-o-Meter. He’s more the silent assassin-type. But something about the Rockets take him to another level, averaging 27.3 ppg against Houston, his best mark against any NBA foe. And as sensational as the other 67 percent of the Big Three plan on being this evening, keep an eye on the Deuce – slicing and dicing precisely.

I expect a hard-fought but T.C.B.-type performance by the Wine and Gold this evening. They’re rarely the undercard, but we’re in a whole new stratosphere on the North Coast these days.

If there’s a little anxiousness about the Cubs bringing momentum to town, that’s natural. Chicago’s beleaguered Bears won on Monday night, so Chicagoans – who already have broad shoulders – have their chests all puffed out.

But their beautiful ursine dreams will be extinguished in Cleveland before the weekend.

The Cubs have a star-studded and frighteningly young nucleus and the second-best manager in the game. They’ll have plenty of cracks to compete for the Commissioner’s Trophy’s 30-pronged crown. And if they can wait out our Renaissance™, maybe they’ll win one or two themselves.

And with such a momentous day and night pending, I’m sorry to break it to boney little PR jedi, Jeff Schaefer, that their won’t be any educational value to today’s column. We won’t have time for Today in History and in terms of those who Died on This Day and, for intents and purposes, are still probably Dead – your guess is as good as mine.

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