They’d gone and written him off. It’s not as if they weren’t warned — how receivers run free as the wind through the middle of the field or how cornerbacks can’t menacingly glare at wide receivers without getting a 15-yard penalty — no, they just didn’t listen.

And now, Joe Flacco’s going to make them pay.

You heard right, Joe Flacco — the NFL’s best Lazarus act since Randall Cunningham in 1998. Joe Flacco was bumped out of Baltimore, bounced around the league, unceremoniously cast aside, and left sitting on his couch. 38 years old. See you later, Grandpa. Thanks for all the memories.

And, of course, it’s in Cleveland, for the good old Cleveland Browns. The franchise that destroyed itself and became the worst in modern NFL history and could only be painstakingly returned back to mediocrity. This is the same franchise that then threw it all away on the absurd contract of Deshaun “Weirdo” Watson, accused of sexual misconduct and harassment by 26 women but still awarded a fully guaranteed $230 million contract. 

Cleveland, am I right?

But Joe Flacco wasn’t done yet, and credit to Cleveland for giving him a chance to prove his worth. So-called NFL “insiders,” “experts,” and “analysts” gave no second glance to a 6-foot-6-inch, two-year rested former Super Bowl MVP watching from the bench in Cleveland.

Only the NFL would allow this. To make offenses so overpowered, to pump out Mahomes, Allen, and Lamar coverage until we want to drop, to instill in us how much the NFL is new and improved and the old NFL is done and so are those nasty days of physicality, and then, oh my goodness, it’s Joe Flacco. 

So Grandpa Joe comes along, and he takes a look around and says to himself, well, this isn’t all that bad. And Joe Flacco rips that ball around the field like Jameis Winston doing his best Brett Favre impression. And it works. Because on the other side of those balls is Amari Cooper, and Amari Cooper isn’t in Dallas or Oakland or in some silly sideshow organization that has football operations coinciding with public relations. In front of Joe Flacco is one of the best offensive lines in the NFL, coached by an incredibly innovative offensive mind. Cleveland can be ineptly run, but football’s always the main thing. And that’s all good with Joe Flacco.

Follow me carefully because I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen. The Cleveland Browns are going to play in a road divisional playoff game in a few days, and it’s going to be like something never seen before in Browns history. Joe Flacco is going to walk into that stadium with his little kids, and that stadium is going to go absolutely berserk. In the home locker room, there’s going to be some god-forsaken AFC division winner who made it through mandatory OTAs, evening lifts, and diet plans to earn home-field advantage, just to lose to a 39-year-old (Happy Birthday Joe!) quarterback and the Cleveland Browns before the first snap of the ball game. Yeesh. 

So, as you furiously blink, rub your eyes, and shake your head repeatedly in disbelief, the Browns are in the AFC Championship game. Joe Flacco still has nothing to lose. No, this is different now. Not because Joe Flacco is elite, but because the very word “elite” comes up woefully short. Who could put a word on this storyline? 

Remember those boneheaded experts I talked about earlier? The experts that will have you thinking an elite quarterback needs to make 20 Pro Bowls like Peyton Manning or Tom Brady, have to be some obsessive like John Elway, or undergo systematic pulverization like Brett Favre? Just a few quick questions for the experts. Has Joe Flacco ever sold anything? Endorsed anything? Podcasted? Publicly said anything contentious to your precious magazines and blogs? Gave your insiders the juicy scoop? 

No, Joe Flacco just plays football. And when he’s switched on in the playoffs, he’s feared. He’s even better when his kicker doesn’t miss a 30-yard chip shot to beat Tom Brady in New England or when his receiver doesn’t drop a game-winning touchdown. But you won’t hear a thing about it from Joe. No, you’ll be better off listening to that one great story from 2012 when Joe Flacco decided to have the single greatest playoff postseason run by a quarterback in league history: throwing for over 1000 yards and making 11 touchdowns in three playoff wins en route to winning a ring and Super Bowl MVP. 

Just because Joe Flacco hadn’t found his footing in the NFL over the next ten years, the experts proclaimed it was all over. 

Let’s switch our attention to “Mighty Mouse” Bryce Young, who can barely loft passes above the heads of his offensive line. Yes, Tennessee Titans, Ryan Tannehill is definitely your missing piece. San Francisco, do you think you’d have won in 2019 if Flacco was throwing that Super Bowl long ball to Sanders? I sure do. And the Jets, who literally had Flacco in their facility then dumped him with nothing but rest and a chip on his shoulder. How do I even begin to expound on the embarrassment and shame you should feel for being such an inept franchise?

It’s 2024, and Joe Flacco’s going to win another Super Bowl to secure his Hall of Fame jacket. Just don’t act like you didn’t see it coming.