Eric Mangini probably deserves more time to make his program work in Cleveland, although I don't really know why.
 
It just seems odd—a knee-jerk reaction—to suggest that he be fired at the midpoint of his first season at the helm. But one local newspaper columnist already did. So the Mangini watch begins.
 
The coach has done nothing to excite Cleveland fans since his arrival. His press conferences are as exciting as listening to your high school biology teacher discuss the reproductive techniques of protozoa. His two facial expressions are grim and grimmer. He radiates the warmth of a January morning in Saskatoon.
 
If he wanted to emulate his mentor, Bill Belichick, he picked the wrong town. Clevelanders endured the worst of Ol' Stoneface himself and don't need a chip off of that concrete block.
 
So now, in the face of the 30-6 thrashing at Chicago, and following the demise of George Kokinis, his hand-picked GM (will somebody please explain, at long last, how a coach picked his general manager in the first place?), Mangini reverted to his tired explanation fo