The Most Awkward Elevator Ride in Cleveland Browns History

Berea, OH -- Cleveland Browns Training Facility/Complex -- Mid-Afternoon

A glum Derek Anderson stands alone in an elevator when the doors open to reveal a smiling Brady Quinn joking with a couple of teammates. Quinn, holding the current Browns playbook, enters the elevator and notices Anderson. His smile fades.

Quinn (hesitant): Hey.

Anderson (looking straight ahead): Hey.

Quinn: I can just catch the next one if--

Anderson: No, its fine. Where you heading?

Quinn: Top floor.

Anderson: Top floor? To see Coach Crennel?

Quinn: Yeah.

Anderson: What for?

Quinn: Some meeting with him and Scherer (quarterbacks coach).

Anderson: Huh? Why don't I know about this?

Silence.

Quinn (noticing no other floors are lit): Where you getting off?

Anderson: Nowhere. I'm just riding -- trying to clear my head.

Silence. Quinn looks at his watch.

Anderson: So, how were my--I mean your-- snaps in practice today?

Quinn: Um, they were good -- I felt pretty sharp out there.

Anderson: Yeah, I bet you did.

Silence. Quinn scratches his forehead.

Quinn: You get a haircut?

Anderson: Man, I wish Notre Dame had like an 8-year football program. That way you'd still be there.

Silence.

Anderson: I didn't mean that, I'm sorry.

Quinn: It's cool.

Silence. Quinn touches the brail below the "2" elevator button.

Quinn: Hey man, the first three games aren't entirely on your shoulders -- I just want you to know that.

Anderson: Who said they were?

Silence.

Quinn: Boy, this sure is a slow elevator.

Silence.

Elevator doors open. 3rd string quarterback Ken Dorsey is standing on the other side and blankly stares at both Quinn and Anderson.

Dorsey: I'll catch the next one.

Quinn: No, come on in, there's plenty--

Dorsey runs away and the doors shut.

Quinn: Hey, you see The Dark Knight yet? It was pretty awesome.

Anderson: We played three tough teams -- with three top-notch defenses. You really think you could have done better?

Silence. Quinn begins to whistle the theme song to "Step By Step."

Elevator doors open to top floor and Quinn steps out into hallway.

Anderson: Hey Brady.

Quinn turns around.

Quinn: Yeah?

Anderson: Just promise me one thing.

Quinn: What's that?

Anderson: Give me your word that every Sunday you'll do everything in your power to take care of my men.

Quinn: You know I will.

The doors begin to close. Anderson slumps his head down and throws up an open hand into the air. Doors shut.

Dr. Quinn: Medicine Backup

Browns quarterback Derek Anderson is scheduled to miss the rest of the preseason with a mild concussion. Though the injury is only minor, backup QB Brady Quinn waste no time using Anderson's concussion as a stepping stone to slide into the starting spot.

Berea, Ohio -- 8AM -- Browns Training Facility

Cleveland quarterback Derek Anderson sits near his locker reading a playbook and taking notes. Brady Quinn, holding a handful of papers, enters the room.

Quinn: What's up Derek, how you doing? How's your head?

Anderson (looking down at playbook): Hi Brady, it's feeling alright.

Quinn: Hey, what you reading? Anything I should be looking at?

Anderson: No, this is stuff for the starting QB.

Quinn mumbles under his breath.

Anderson (looks up): What was that?

Quinn (ruffling papers): Nothing. Hey, so I was doing a little research on concussions at WebMD this morning and thought I'd share it with you.

Anderson: Can we do it later? I really have to hit the gym before I meet with Coach Chudzinski this afternoon.

Quinn: Well hold on, this won't take long.

Anderson (still looking down at playbook): Alright, what's up?

Quinn (glancing over papers): Ok, I assessed your injury, matched it up online -- and the four most common symptoms I'm concerned about are loss of memory, confusion, blurred vision and nausea and vomiting.

Anderson (looks up to Brady): Well then I think I'm alright then, I haven't had any of those. It was a mild concussion Brady -- really just a glorified headache.

Quinn abruptly runs out of the locker room. Confused, Anderson goes back to his notes.

3 minutes later...

Quinn approaches Anderson with the same handful of WebMD printouts.

Quinn: Good morning Derek, how's your head?

Anderson: Hey -- where'd you run off to?

Quinn: What are you talking about? I just got here -- just now.

Anderson: No, you were just telling me about all those symptoms for a concussion and -- nevermind.

Quinn: Oh no, this is not good. (looks at printouts) Sounds like a combination of confusion and slight amnesia. Hey, do you feel like you might throw up?

Anderson keeps looking at his clipboard, ignoring Brady.

Quinn: Oh man -- listen, I've been doing a bunch of research on concussions, I think we need to talk. You might be way worse than I though.

Anderson: We already did Brady, I'm done discussing this. I'm fine.

Quinn: Derek, look at me. When did this supposed conversation take place?

Anderson: 2 minutes ago, before you ran away.

Quinn: Derek, look at me. When did this supposed conversation take place?

Anderson: Huh? I just told you. Are we done now?

Quinn: Derek, look at me. When did this supposed conversation take place?

Anderson: What the hell is going on here Brady?

Quinn: Wow, this is bad, I don't even know what you're babbling about right now. I'm going to let Coach Crennel know about this right away.

Anderson: Stop! I'm fine, I've already been checked out by the team doctor.

Quinn: You've already been "pecked by the leam tocker?" What does that even mean?

Quinn pulls out a blank white note card.

Quinn: Derek, look at this card. Can you tell me what number is written on it?

Anderson: There's nothing on it, it's blank.

Quinn: What!? (writes something down on a notepad) I thought you might say it's blurry -- but man, you don't see anything? This is not good.

Anderson: Hey, what are you writing?

Quinn again runs out of the room without warning. Anderson goes back to his playbook.

4 minutes later...

Quinn re-enters holding a towel covered in vomit.

Quinn: Alright, I think I got most of it. You see anymore?

Anderson: Anymore what?

Quinn: Your puke! You just hurled up a few pounds of semi-digested -- (smells towel) I'm guessing Hot Pockets and Count Chocula. You are not well man, your concussion must be progressing.

Anderson stares at Quinn.

Quinn: Oh come on, don't tell me you already forgot?

Anderson: Where did you even get the vomit on that rag? That is just weird man.

Quinn: I got it from your insides. Geez, I'm going to have to go all the way to Randy Lerner with this. I think you have a trip to the IR in your future. Maybe I should be looking at that playbook instead of you. With the way your acting, this will be my team in no time.

Anderson stands up and begins to walk out of locker room.

Quinn: Hey, where you going?

Anderson: Away from you.