Clowns.

The ownership is made up of clowns.

The head coach is a clown.

Some of the players on the roster are clowns.

And the fan base consists mostly of clowns.

The clownness is so pronounced, the stadium should be renamed “The Big Top.”

And the franchise should be called the Cleveland Clowns.

Few teams have done so little with so much as the 2019 Cleveland Clowns, er, Browns.

This is the most talented (on paper) roster Cleveland has had since the Browns had their Super Bowl runs dashed by “The Drive” and “The Fumble.”

Yet the bumbling nature of the franchise is holding them back.

Again.

Cleveland is 5-7 and all but out of the playoff picture.

Before the season started, Clowns' fans were rabid in their optimism for this team.

The Clowns will win the division, they bellowed. Beat the New England Patriots, they proclaimed. Get to the Super Bowl for the first time and win it, they decried.

Bring glory to a city that has seen precious little of it for half a century (save the Cadavers, er, Cavaliers).

Yeah, none of that is happening.

Instead, after a 21-7 win over the Pittsburgh Steelers two weeks ago that was marred by an ugly fight (more on that later), the Clowns went into Heinz Field with overflowing bravado.

And lost 20-13 to a fourth-string quarterback throwing to guys plucked off practice squads and running the ball with a rookie and a guy who spells “White” with a Y.

Not exactly what the Clowns had in mind.

Or their clown fans.

Cleveland should have known.

After Myles Garrett smacked Mason Rudolph in the head with the QB's helmet during the fracas in the final seconds in the first meeting, Clown fans immediately pointed the finger at Rudolph as the instigator.

Whether he was or wasn't was moot. Garrett's actions were over the top and he was suspended indefinitely.

Clowns coach Freddie Kitchens was spotted days before the second meeting wearing a shirt that read, “Pittsburgh started it.”

That's the head coach of an NFL team.

He said his daughter bought it for him, so he was compelled to wear it.

A colleague (and Browns' fan) of mine made an apt observation. If Kitchens' daughter had given him a shirt that read, “I'm a moron” would he have worn that?

See, a clown.

It shouldn't be a surprise, really.

Teams that acquire players like the Clowns did in the offseason, headcases like Odell Beckham Jr. and Kareem Hunt and already have a headcase at quarterback like Baker Mayfield, who is a perfect blend of Jameis Winston and Johnny Manziel, disappointment and chaos should be a given.

Look at the 2000 Washington Redskins as an example. They loaded up under another clown owner, Daniel Snyder, by signing Deion Sanders, Bruce Smith, Jeff George and Mark Carrier and went 8-8.

It never works.

Cleveland is the latest to try — and fail — like it has so many times before.

Go ahead, Cleveland.

Send in the Clowns.

Mike Kilroy is a staff writer for the Butler Eagle