Cleveland Browns general manager Ray Farmer returned to work on Monday after a four-week league-imposed exile that culminated in a last-second, 30-27 loss to the San Diego Chargers. The suspension was a result of text messages Farmer sent the Browns sideline during games in the 2014 season, a violation of the NFL’s electronic device policy. Coach Mike Pettine, who I assume was bursting with emotion, told the media on Monday that he and Farmer had a “real positive interaction.”
Coach Pettine’s statement, besides beautiful in its sterile yet probable truthfulness, could vary in meaning based on how it was conveyed and interpreted. Because the press conference transcripts disseminated by the Browns front office aren’t accompanied by body language annotations, we’re left to speculate as to what Pettine really meant by a “real positive interaction” with Farmer.
First, let us take a moment and imagine how spectacular such body language asides would be. Consider the following possibilities.
“I thought the defense played … good today?” [Coach Pettine pauses on “good” and overturns palms like Larry David while cocking head to one side, as if to suggest, “They could’ve played better, but what do you expect from the Browns?”]
“I think one of the biggest problems with the defense right now is their tackling.” [Coach Pettine uses his fingers to gesture air-quotes at the word “tackling.”]
“What we’ve been seeing over the last several weeks is that Johnny’s working real hard and I think in practice we’re seeing some real positive strides …” [Coach Pettine begins doing a mock jerk-off motion with his right hand while rolling his eyes wildly, simultaneously (and skillfully, I might add) expressing mock euphoria and genuine boredom] “… and we’re really excited by his positive development and ability to take what the defense gives him.”
Second, how do we parse “real positive interaction.”
Did Pettine emphasize the word positive? Two possibilities follow: Given that Farmer will be partially evaluated on the team’s performance during his suspension, Pettine is surprised that the interaction was positive after a 1-3 start and a demoralizing loss; or it wasn’t really a positive interaction, and Pettine wants to suggest he and Farmer have a great relationship, when in all likelihood they kind of hate each other.
Did Pettine emphasize the word interaction? As in, both parties spoke and responded to each other’s words instead of their normal encounters: one of them grunting and growling after an attempted conversation (most likely Pettine), or (even better) one just staring at each other with cold, dead eyes while shaking his head in disapproval.
I’m quite certain it was the last possibility, though. Pettine probably emphasized the word real. Because, as Waiting for Next Year has shared with the world for the last three weeks, Pettine and Farmer have been actively (and in violation of NFL rules) sharing many fake, virtual interactions via text message. These interactions have varied in positivity, but it’s no doubt a relief to Pettine that Farmer’s reappearance in Berea will take some of their conversations from the virtual realm (which Pettine no doubt hates) into the real world. However, as we all know, there is no real-world substitute for the french fry emoji.
But before business as usual (well, as usual as it can be in a place that averages a regime change every 18 months) resumes, Waiting for Next Year has one more week of texts from Ray Farmer to share with the public. Why can’t the public continue to receive these texts throughout the season, you ask? Surely Ray will continue to harass Pettine, Coach Flip, Kyle Shanahan, and his wife Vernet over the next 12 games? Well, I’m all out of favors at TelAmeriline/the NSA. In order to receive further texts from the American security apparatus I’ve been asked to lead a coup in a small Caribbean island nation (hint: it’s definitely NOT Trinidad and Tobago), and it’s a principle of mine to never become personally involved in the overthrow of foreign governments. Alas, no more texts.
Farmer’s texts reveal a feckless goofball not unlike your roommate in college who would eat Cheez Whiz straight out of the can, a man that stands in stark contrast to his stern and bookish public persona. Some would say this provides profound insight into our dual natures: that of the public representative we present to the public and that of our truer, more authentic self which leaks out in personal interactions. Others may say the texts more accurately reflect the thoughts and feelings of the blog contributor who made them up, and not Ray Farmer. I’d say it’s open to interpretation.
Saturday, 10:50 p.m. PT (Pacific Time). Not a per se violation of his suspension (though certainly frowned upon), Ray decides that he’ll go to San Diego. While there he plans to catch the Browns in person (a definite violation of his suspension), and possibly catch a few hours of rest and relaxation to help him regroup for his return to work on Monday morning. After his layover (because there are no direct flights from Cleveland to San Diego in an ongoing injustice), Ray texts his wife Vernet to let her know he’s reached San Diego.
Sunday, 8:30 a.m. Ray wakes up on Sunday to find that he may have more ambitions for his trip to San Diego than one day allows. He texts his wife, then decides that he’ll go somewhere to watch the early games (which at start at 10 a.m. on the West Coast) since the Browns are one of the later games. Coach Pettine, not sure what to do about Joe Haden’s inability to go after being listed as probable earlier in the weekend, texts Farmer looking for advice … and help.
Sunday 11:40 a.m. As game time for the Browns nears, Ray becomes less and less interested in attending the Browns game, as he grows amused with the other fun-filled activities that San Diego offers, and using local terminology like “stoked” to describe his excitement to participate in them.
The Browns tie the game at 13-13 just before halftime. Although the Browns aren’t losing at the midway point, the defense is showing some serious vulnerabilities. Their head coach, becoming a little panicked at the potential consequences if his team is to lose and fall to 1-3 with a grueling upcoming schedule, texts his suspended general manager, who has largely forgotten about the game during his trip to the San Diego Zoo. General manager Farmer eventually finds a place to watch the Browns’ final offensive drive and San Diego’s last-minute … well, you know what happened.
Following the tough loss, coach Pettine expresses fear about his job with the Browns at 1-3 and little prospects of improving. General manager Farmer, embracing the San Diego vibes and the beauty of ocean sunsets (and having already told his wife that the two of them are moving to San Diego) alerts NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell of his indiscretions during his suspension in an attempt to increase the length of his suspension.