I’ll admit it. I was a little scared to support my team with a jersey or even a hat in Cleveland’s season opener on Sunday.

Now I’m ashamed I didn’t.

Before you start to think I’m just another embarrassed but loyal Browns fan, I should do a little explaining.

I’m not a Browns fan at all. In fact, I grew up hating them. I think it’s just because everyone around me — growing up in Ohio — was so hardcore about them and I just had to buck the trend.

And back in those days the Browns were actually worth rooting for too. It was the days of Bernie Kosar, Ernest Byner and near-miss Super Bowl teams. I don’t remember all the players because — like I said — I hated them.

Back then, though, Browns fans always had the reputation as the nastiest in the NFL. And I’ll give it to them, they were.

I always thought of the Dog Pound as more like a mosh pit for a Metallica concert rather than an up-close venue for a day of football watching. Remember that big guy who always dressed up in Browns gear — and masked up like a dog. Or all the battery- and beer-throwing episodes.

Bones and snowballs would be flying around everywhere — all the time. And that was when it was tame. You wouldn’t dare score on that side of the field as a visitor, unless you had a death wish.

As the 1980s — and those couple of John Elway defeats (sorry Browns fans) — transitioned into the 1990s, the Browns still had it. The Browns fans were still loyal — and still crazy.

I went to a Monday Night game in Cleveland in 1995, which happened to be the last Browns game I went to see live before this past Sunday.

Even then, it was still nasty. Those same brown-clad uglies occupied the Pound and they let you know they were there. The Bills would win that game on a late field goal — and I’m sure they got out of town quickly. No need to rub it in back then, unless of course if the Bills wanted a big dog bone in the ear.

So that same atmosphere is what I was expecting to see as me and a couple childhood buddies headed back up to Cleveland on Sunday. I was expecting much of the same rowdy, ruthless, devoted-to-disaster-on-the-opposing-team-and-anyone-who-followed-them Browns fans.

Therefore, I was quite afraid to gear up in Vikings purple on Sunday, despite the urging and support from my friends to do so. Funny how friends want to see bodily harm down to you — and they can still be friends.

Don’t ask me why I’m a Vikings fans. It goes back to the 1980s and probably is for all the same reasons I didn’t want to follow the Browns. I have always been alone in my glory — and my misery — with the Vikings. And I kind of like it that way.

Anyway, I was surprised to notice the first jersey I saw once in downtown Cleveland was one of Adrian Peterson ... And then the second one was, too.

Hmmm .... “I must have some crazy-good luck to run into the two Vikings fans who were dumb enough to wear their jerseys to the game,” I thought to myself.

As we walked from the parking garage to the stadium, I was more and more shocked to see more and more Vikings jerseys. Everyone from Fran Tarkenton to Matt Birk, to Hershal Walker (yeah, remember that trade). And, of course, there were plenty of Peterson and Brett Favre jerseys, too.

Arriving to our seats an hour before kickoff, I looked around the stadium. And guess what I saw?

Vikings jerseys.

Vikings jerseys everywhere!

It couldn’t be. The Dog Pound filled up with Vikings fans. But it was. I settled in for the game and tried to wrap my mind around what I was seeing.

Sense would finally begin to make sense as brown would eventually overtake all the purple in the stadium. It did little to help the home team, however.

Two seats next to me I guy clad head to toe in Browns gear just couldn’t believe the Browns would hold up with a 13-10 lead at halftime. I couldn’t help but think that 20 years ago he would have been hurling bones and beer in a testosterone-driven craze as he knew his Browns were well on their way to another victory.

As Peterson and the Vikings began to run away in the second half, so did those so-called “diehard” Browns fans. Two seats over, that same guy was gone.

All around me were long faces and chants of “here we go again.”

As for The Dog Pound? No way. It was more like a Puppy Pound as we started to head down from our seats halfway through the fourth quarter with the Vikings up big.

Then as we were leaving the stadium I noticed the Dog Pound had only purple left in it as the Browns struggled to salvage a touchdown in the final seconds against Minnesota’s second team.

And now I’m left to wonder what it was I thought was so scary about the Browns in the first place.

The only thing that is scary about them now is how bad they are.

I’m ashamed of myself.

Where’s my Vikings hat?

ADAM VANKIRK can be reached at avankirk@dailyindependent.com or (606) 326-2664.