Some poor romantics had their hopes dashed today. Rather than become reborn in another simple, vertical offense with athletic weapons on the outside in Cleveland, Robert Griffin III couldn’t outrun what seems to be his destiny — derailing his career with a serious injury just as an opportunity arose.
Griffin broke a bone in his shoulder in his first regular season game and promptly hit injured reserve, putting the rest of his season in jeopardy.
RGIII’s star-crossed Washington career was the butt of many jokes, but most of the true comedy came not from Griffin’s injuries, but of the schadenfreude of an angry, entitled (and partially racist) fan base cannibalizing what was once its best hope. The Browns are not a hated franchise like the one that bears a racial slur in its name, simply a pitied one. Their signing and starting of RGIII could have been a glorious orgy of redemption, but it instead predictably became a singularity of sadness.
What’s worse, RGIII’s latest injury was due, once again, to his inability or unwillingness to protect himself on runs outside the pocket:
This latest, and perhaps darkest, turn in the Griffin saga produced an outpouring of grief and bewildered resignation on Twitter:
(and a brief cameo from our resident Cleveland native, Martin Rickman)