The Cleveland Browns have a Factory of Sadness.
Now, they want a Palace of Sadness.
READ FULL BILL REGARDING BROWNS STADIUM
And, if it’s not too much trouble, they’re asking the public to pay for the gold-plated kick in the shins.
That might be fine with lawmakers in the Ohio House, many of whom have received big campaign donations from Browns owner Jimmy Haslam and who on Wednesday waved through a state budget that set aside $600 million for his sad-sack franchise’s new playland. (The budget — proposed by House Republicans and passed largely along party lines — now heads to the Senate.)
But not everyone is as amused.
That includes State Sen. Bill DeMora (D., Columbus) who the other day introduced the Public Access to Professional Sports Act.
While this corner is not a fan of frivolous legislation, we’ll make an exception here.
The bill is as grandstanding and unserious as it is … perfect.
It would require a pro sports franchise to have a .500 record or better in three of the past five seasons to be eligible for state funding.
Want public money? Try doing some public good every now and then.
“For too long, Ohioans have been held hostage by these professional sports teams and their billionaire owners,” DeMora said. “I am tired of hearing year after year that if the government doesn’t fork over taxpayer money, then the team is going to move out of state. This legislation would stop that cycle.
“If a team wants to get taxpayer money, then the least they can do is have a winning season, and if they decide that they want to move, then the people of Ohio deserve their money back.”
Love it.
The Browns can have our charity … once they’re no longer registered as a charity for the rest of the NFL.
Sure, I appreciate we’re picking the lowest-hanging fruit here. Railing against billionaire sports owners receiving taxpayer handouts is like arguing that ice cream is tasty.
Not exactly going out on a limb.
Still, there is something especially appalling about the Browns asking the public to foot half the bill for their planned $2.4 billion dome in suburban Brook Park — with $600 million coming from the state in sweetheart bonds, $600 million from Cuyahoga County.
While a new stadium would not be without its economic benefits, this is like Scrooge McDuck asking the citizenry of Duckburg to build him a money-printing plant.
It’s not just that Haslam — who will own all the parking and development around the proposed new digs — can more than afford to build what will amount to a mint.
Consider: He’s already one of the richest men in the world, with his family recently selling Pilot Flying J — the truck-stop chain his father, Jim, founded in 1981 — to Berkshire Hathaway for $13.6 billion.
Haslam is worth $8.5 billion, per Forbes, and the Browns — who he bought for $1 billion in 2012 — have dumb-lucked themselves into a current valuation of $5.15 billion.
More than that, it’s that he continues to be a disastrous steward of Cleveland’s most popular institution.
If the Browns were a regular source of joy and pride for their devoted constituency, it would be a different conversation (although not for the no-public-money hard liners).
They are not.
Haslam recently called the trade for quarterback Deshaun Watson a “big swing and miss.”
He could say the same thing about his entire 13 years in charge.
It has been one flailing strikeout after another, his reign of error producing all of two non-losing seasons. The Browns under his ownership are 73-138-1.
He has torn the franchise down, and, now, top hat in hand, he’s asking for help to build a shiny new stadium.
Haslam knows how to play the political game, and, almost certainly, he’ll get the money. But credit the lawmakers who can see through the charade.
First Published April 10, 2025, 7:02 p.m.
