I’m not sure why I’m surprised.

I told myself all my life, as well as anyone else with ears, that this city will never experience a championship.

I’m not sure why I bought into it this past NBA season. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I actually thought the drought would finally come to an end.

The curse was lifting, the sky was clearing and God was ready to shed his bright light on what would never be called “Mistake by the Lake” again.

Instead, we got one big middle finger.

It’s a familiar finger and we’ve seen it for 45 straight years, three times a year.

For those keeping score, that is 135 points for teams not named Cleveland: 0 points for us losers.

The sports world is pitching a shutout against Cleveland and I don’t see any runs coming across the board anytime soon.

Actually, more like never.

This was supposed to be that year we got that run across the board. I thought we were getting the gold.

I thought we had it in the bag.

I planned a vacation trip to Put-in-Bay what would have been the following weekend after we won the finals planning a celebration. I’m literally not kidding. I’ve got $1600 charged to my credit card as we speak to prove my celebratory plans (speaking of which, are any of my friends going to pay me back? I’m going to submit no.)

I was going to blow off work to endure in the championship parade streaking the streets of Cleveland like an inebriated madman hugging anyone with arms. (Just kidding Tricia and Laura...kind of, but we’ll never find out.)

I had big solid dreams for this day. I had it all mapped out.

They say “life is what happens to you when you make plans,” well I’m here to officially change that expression to “Cleveland is what happens to you when you make plans.”

The Cavaliers had one of the best seasons in NBA history and what does that mean? Absolutely nothing.

LeBron James hit one of the biggest shots in playoff history - definitely the biggest shot in franchise history which was supposed to erase “The Shot” - and what does that mean? In Cleveland? Nothing.

The ball doesn’t bounce this way. It never does. When will we learn?

A Championship is not in the cards. It’s a foreign word. A culture we aren’t supposed to be apart of. We weren’t invited to the party.

There is officially nothing a Cleveland team can do anymore that will make me think again “wow, this could be our year.”

The Cavs won 66 games and I was SURE of a championship and we didn’t win, how could I possibly ever be confident of winning one when we win, say, 55 games?

Oh, the horror.

As I do every year like a sucker with amnesia, I’ll believe again. I’ll have hope and say “this is finally our year.”

But this time, it’s going to take some time.

-Nick Carrabine
NCarrabine@News-Herald.com