2001 was the year the Lions hired Matt Millen as President and CEO. The team was coming off of a winning season in 2000 (barely missing the playoffs). Since then, Detroit has won 27% of its games, with four different head coaches. Millen was no stranger to success as a player; he was an All-American defensive end at Penn State and won four Super Bowls with the Raiders and 49ers. But Millen’s post-playing career before coming to Detroit included absolutely zero front office or player development experience (he was a long time NFL TV commentator). Yet still he lingers, hiring and firing coaches, drafting and discarding top-round players, consistently putting together teams that simply don’t have the talent to win football games. Matt Millen is the short order cook who routinely burns your omelet. He’s the babysitter who drops junior on his head, says he’ll be more careful, then drops him again. He’s the gardener who drives the riding mower over your chrysanthemums, then puts it in reverse.

Actually, there is a better analogy to employ for the de facto General Manager of the team in the Motor City, a team that is owned by a Ford family member. Matt Millen is the used car salesman who bilks his customers into paying for jalopies. He takes a beaten down lemon, gives it a paint job, hangs some dice in the mirror, and looks for his next mark. For eight years, he’s been selling team owner William Clay Ford on his abilities, and he’s been selling the fans on the same pigskin Edsels he annually rolls out.

For the first few years, fans were buying. They were willing to be patient with some early failures if it paid off in later success. They’re not buying any more. Sure, fans go to games, or watch them on TV – that will always happen. But the emotional and financial investment Michiganders are willing to make in Lions football is at a critical low point. It’s become less a matter of whether they’re wasting they’re time as whether they’re willing to have their intelligence insulted on a weekly basis. Losses are understandable when a team at least puts forth a solid effort. Why should anyone spend his day off - after working hard all week - watching a bunch of spoiled millionaires mail it in during a professional ballgame? Surely the gutters need cleaning.

Last Sunday’s game against Green Bay was a perfect example. The Lions had more than ample fuel for motivation. They were coming off a humiliating opening-day blowout in Atlanta, where the Falcons’ rookie quarterback Matt Ryan threw a long touchdown on his first play from scrimmage, and Atlanta gained 318 (yes, 318) rushing yards. Now came the home opener, against a hated rival, trotting out their own new quarterback (Aaron Rodgers, finally in for recently-traded legend Brett Favre), and a chance to prove themselves to hopeful fans. I’d like to say that the Lions lost in typical Lions fashion, but when you’re a perennial doormat, you find all kinds of new and unfathomable ways to lose. Thus did the Lions get blown out early, storm back to take the lead, then get blown out again, when Jon Kitna threw three rapid-fire, late-game interceptions (two returned for touchdowns) to seal it. Like abused lovers, fans were given just enough reason to stick around before taking another slap in the face.