Steve King, Staff Writer
11.06.2006
At the beginning of this series to commemorate the 60th anniversary
of the birth of the Browns, we made it clear that we would be looking
back at the 60 biggest -- and not the 60 greatest -- moments in club
history.

If not, then this one would obviously fail to make the list.

For Browns fans, it is clearly the worst moment in Browns annals --
one that, more than a decade later, still turns the stomach of any
Browns fan.

It is, as so aptly depicted in the drawing on the cover of Sports
Illustrated the following week, a sucker punch to the stomach -- one
that we know now has left a scar.

We are talking, of course, about the announcement of the move of the
original Browns to Baltimore -- to eventually become the Ravens -- 11
years ago today, on Nov. 6, 1995.

Browns owner Art Modell, accompanied by prominent Baltimore and
Maryland people, all of whom were sitting on that stage in Baltimore,
on what is now the site of M&T Bank Stadium, the Ravens' home --
publicly discussing his decision and his plans for the future.

The stunning news confirmed what had been rumored for weeks, but what
no one -- at least in Cleveland -- wanted to believe.

The biggest reason for the move was simply that Modell was in serious
financial trouble. He was mortgaged to the hilt and had run out of
Cleveland area banks that would extend him any more credit.

He wasn't about to sell the club, even though there were any number
of willing suitors locally who would have bought it and kept it in
Cleveland. He was intent on keeping it, and, with the fact he needed
a tremendous infusion of money to do so, he took the sweetheart deal
from Baltimore, which was going to build him the brand-new stadium
with all the amenities and revenue streams that he so desperately
needed.

Officials in Cleveland and Ohio balked at giving him that new stadium
here -- at least they were slow in reacting to his needs. After
building a new home downtown for first the Indians and then the
Cavaliers as part of the Gateway complex, they kept Modell on hold.
He continued to try to operate his team out of a stadium that was
historic and charming, but also 63 years old and badly in need of
either a major renovation or to be torn down to make way for a new
facility.

Those officials either didn't realize the extent of Modell's
financial woes, or they took him for granted -- or both.

After all, who would ever think the Browns, for a half-century one of
the foundations not just of Cleveland but also Northeast Ohio, could
ever -- would ever -- be uprooted, driven to Baltimore like furniture
on a moving van.

So it was a shock -- to put it mildly -- when the move was announced.

But Modell shares part of the blame for the shock value at as well in
the way he lulled people into thinking this wasn't a crisis. He did
so by announcing a moratorium on stadium discussion until after the
1995 season so his team, which Sports Illustrated predicted before
the year would make that elusive first Super Bowl berth, could
concentrate on football.

That made sense, so everyone bought it and backed off, thus clearing
the way for Modell to work undetected in the shadows and craft the
deal with Baltimore, which had been desperate to get another NFL team
since the Colts moved to Indianapolis in the dead of night in late
March 1984.

So what did all of this do to the season? Nothing until the news
broke.

The Browns started 1995 with a 3-1 record, looking for all the world
like the club everybody thought they'd be -- the club SI predicted
they would be -- by dismantling a good Kansas City Chiefs team 35-17.

Then, slowly but surely, the roof started to cave in. The veterans
who helped the Browns finish 11-5 and gain a wild-card berth in 1994,
began to play old and slow.

The Browns lost three straight -- and looked bad doing so -- to fall
to 3-4. Quarterback Vinny Testaverde, who had played so well in 1994,
struggled and was replaced by rookie Eric Zeier. In his first regular-
season start, Zeier had the biggest performance by a rookie
quarterback in the history of the Browns in leading the team to a 29-
26 overtime win at Cincinnati on Oct. 29, the day after the Indians
lost the sixth and deciding game of the World Series to the Atlanta
Braves.

As downcast as Clevelanders were with the realization the glorious
Indians season had finally come to an end, they could take solace in
the fact that, after the win over the Bengals, the Browns were back
to .500 at 4-4 and maybe were finally going to get rolling.

Little did anyone realize that the end of the Browns not just for
that season, but maybe forever, would come five days later when
Modell, when reached at his home in the far eastern Cleveland suburb
of Waite Hill late in evening on Nov. 3, all but admitted to a small
group of Browns beat writers sitting in the press workroom at the
club's training facility that the team would be moving.

"I have no choice," was his now-famous line.

When people awoke the next morning to hear the news, chaos ensued.

There were demonstrations, rallies and marches as the fans tried to
save the team. They even flooded the NFL office and the offices of
all members teams with faxes demanding that justice be done and the
Browns remain in Cleveland.

Advertisers, not wanting to associate themselves with Modell and his
lame-duck team, withdrew their ads. Their signs at the Stadium were
painted over in black, creating the feeling of a funeral, which it
indeed was.

The season on the field was lost as well. The Super Bowl of all
distractions short-circuited any momentum the Browns had gained from
the Bengals win. They got blown out 37-10 that Sunday, Nov. 5, at
home by a bad Houston Oilers team.

They would win just one more game the rest of the season, a 26-10
decision over Cincinnati on Dec. 17 in the home finale as Browns fans
tearfully said goodbye to their team.

The season ended a week later -- distastefully enough on Christmas
Eve -- with a 24-21 defeat at the hands of the expansion Jacksonville
Jaguars.

And in the end, Sports Illustrated was right with its prediction --
sort of. The 1995 season was indeed a memorable one for the Browns,
but not in the way anyone imagined.