Look, it's not as if I don't appreciate what you're trying to do here. I get it, and admire your initiative.
Unfortunately, you have no clue what you're doing.
You got off to such a great start, too. Hiring Marty Schottenheimer was a masterstroke, a veritable guarantee of regular-season success and playoff disaster. Sure enough, Marty took you to the promised land last year.
Driving the Chargers to a 14-2 record and then losing at home... brilliant.
How did you build on that success? Norv frickin' Turner? Are you kidding me? He can lose a playoff game, yes, but he has no sense of style.
At this rate, there is absolutely no way you're going to be able to join our ranks and enjoy that omnipresent, decades-long sense of doom that hovers around every Browns fan. Unless you up your game, and fast, you might not even get up to Bills-fan level of merciless self-loathing.
As old hands at this, though, let us help you find your way.
First, your playoff failures need to have a sense of drama. You need to capture the moment. Dropping a 21-12 game where no points are scored in the final 12 minutes is a sad and pathetic attempt at pathos. You need to keep your losses closer than that. Much closer. Nine points down isn't even enough to build hopes up to a reasonable level of optimism.
Remember this: Without irrational optimism, there is no crushing despair. The Chargers didn't even allow you to delude yourselves that you might win in the late-going. A gradually mounting sense of unease doesn't cut it when you're really going for a graceful cliff-dive from glory to depression.
Here's an example: Say Tomlinson played and ran for 160 yards. It's the final minutes and you're down by two. Then, in the final minutes as he was carrying the ball over the goal line... FUMBLE! Or better yet, have him spontaneously explode because he ate too much Taco Bell. Even better, as he blows up, have the ball fly 99 yards towards your own end zone where it can be covered by one of your own players for a safety to put you down by four AND you have to kick the ball off while they pick up pieces of your running back.
That's style. That's how it's done, right there.
Also, about your quarterback... Phillip Rivers almost fits the bill. He's nearly perfect. He throws a goofy football, which puts him in the right zone, and he didn't win much in college. Unfortunately, his continued douchebagginess keeps him from being a lovable guy who deserves better. Think Bernie Kosar. Or Brian Sipe. Those were guys you loved, and wanted to see win, only to have their personal agony at falling short serve as the toxic whipped cream on that futility sundae.
Give Rivers a personality transplant with, say, a Smurf. Then you're in the zone.
You want genuine playoff horror? Talk to a Browns fan. We'll show you how to get it done.