If you thought the Cleveland Browns’ quarterback saga couldn’t get any more bewildering, think again.

The legendary Richie Incognito has unleashed a volcanic tirade against the Browns’ front office, ripping apart their baffling decision to double down on Dillon Gabriel as their starting quarterback—despite Gabriel’s glaring struggles and the overlooked talent of Shadur Sanders.

Browns fans, brace yourselves: this isn’t just a critique; it’s a full-on roast laced with sarcasm, disbelief, and brutal truths that sting worse than a linebacker’s sack.

For years, the Browns have been the poster child for quarterback mismanagement, a franchise seemingly allergic to stability and logic.

Richie Incognito, known for his no-holds-barred commentary, didn’t hold back in explaining why the Browns’ latest QB move is yet another chapter in their long history of chaos.

After a crushing 32-13 loss to the New York Jets, where Dillon Gabriel had a disastrous day, the Browns stunned everyone by naming Gabriel the starter immediately after the game—even though they had a bye week coming up, a perfect opportunity to evaluate other options like Shadur Sanders.

Instead, the Browns chose to stick with the quarterback ranked dead last among NFL starters.

Yes, you read that right: last.

Richie’s words cut deep. He likened the Browns’ front office to “that one kid who insists on leading a group project but ends up doodling stick figures all night instead of doing the real work.”

The Browns’ decision to pick Gabriel over Sanders was described as a “glorified group project gone horribly wrong,” exposing a front office loud on confidence but utterly lost on execution.

He didn’t stop there.

Richie compared the Browns’ scouting process to a game of roulette, spinning a wheel of names and hoping for the best.

The Browns apparently looked at Gabriel’s draft ranking, shrugged, and said, “What could go wrong?” The answer: everything.

Richie painted a vivid picture contrasting the two quarterbacks.

Shadur Sanders, the overlooked prospect, is the “kind of player who walks into a locker room and instantly raises the energy,” a quarterback with swagger, poise, and football IQ that “doesn’t need Google Translate to decode a defense.

” He’s the guy you want when the lights are blinding, the pressure is sky-high, and the whole world is watching.

Meanwhile, Dillon Gabriel was portrayed as the “intern who somehow became CEO because everyone else quit,” the guy “just happy to be on the team bus,” fumbling with his wristband and asking if the Wi-Fi password still works on game day.

Brutal? Absolutely. But Browns fans nodded in grim agreement.

Richie’s rant wasn’t just about Gabriel; it was about the Browns’ entire identity as a franchise.

“They don’t just make mistakes,” Richie said, “they make statements.”

The Browns seem addicted to chaos, rebuilding every season but never really building.

“They reassemble chaos every single year,” he joked, “like weak leftovers reheated for the tenth time.”

The Browns’ PR team tried to spin Gabriel’s underdog mentality and long-term development as positives, but Richie wasn’t buying it.

He mocked the annual hype videos with their dramatic slow-motion helmet shots and epic soundtracks, calling them “corporate PowerPoints on false hope.”

The Browns’ plan? Apparently, it’s to “surprise you with confusion rather than win with clarity.”

The internet exploded after Richie’s rant.

Browns fans flooded social media with memes of Gabriel holding a clipboard, photoshopped images of Sanders in a Browns jersey, and sarcastic jabs at the front office’s incompetence.

One viral meme showed Sanders as the Browns’ quarterback “in an alternate universe where logic exists.”

Richie’s scathing comparison of choosing Gabriel over Sanders as “ordering a gourmet steak and swapping it for a microwaved burrito because it’s easier to prepare” became an instant classic.

The Browns’ fans’ frustration boiled over into a collective meltdown, with many demanding Sanders get a shot immediately.

Richie didn’t spare the coaching staff either.

He likened watching the Browns handle quarterbacks to “watching a daycare center on game day,” handing out juice boxes and playbooks while trying not to panic under pressure.

Stefanski’s insistence on sticking with Gabriel despite poor performances was baffling, especially when Sanders was healthy and ready to play.

Richie questioned what Sanders might have done to deserve such treatment—“Did he sleep with the coach’s wife?” he joked bitterly—highlighting the absurdity of the situation.

The Browns’ offense, under Gabriel, looked like a “museum of almost,” filled with exhibits of failed quarterback experiments.

Despite the harsh words, Richie conceded that Gabriel might turn out to be a decent player someday—just not in Cleveland.

The Browns, he said, are where quarterback potential goes to retire. He challenged the Browns to prove him wrong but wasn’t holding his breath.

The Browns’ season, already looking like a lost cause, has fans anxiously awaiting Sanders’ inevitable debut.

With Gabriel’s stats and performances faltering, the writing seems on the wall.

But if history is any guide, the Browns will find a way to make even a potential miracle look like an accident.

In the end, Richie’s rant was more than just a roast—it was a therapy session for a fanbase battered by decades of disappointment.

The Browns don’t just star in a tragic football comedy; they keep dropping sequels with no signs of a happy ending.

As Richie leaned back with that trademark smirk, he summed it up perfectly: “Classic Cleveland. No script required, just Cleveland being Cleveland.”

For Browns fans, it’s a painful truth wrapped in humor—a reminder that in this city, hope is a full-contact sport, and heartbreak is the only constant.

If you’re a Browns fan, buckle up. The rollercoaster isn’t slowing down anytime soon. Richie Incognito’s brutal honesty might sting, but it’s a wake-up call that Cleveland desperately needs.

Will the Browns finally get it right? Or are they destined to keep remixing the same old heartbreak? Only time will tell.