When Cleveland owner Randy Lerner met with two members of the Dawg Pound earlier this week to discuss the miserable experience that is being a Browns fan, my first thought was this:

"What would I say if I was in a room with Ralph Wilson?"

In what is sure to envelope what a sad state of affairs being a lifelong Bills fan is, I think I'd want to ask questions more than anything else. I'd want to listen, I watch this team every Sunday, and when I miss games, I watch them later. It's not the most satisfying mindsey, but pick your moribund record -- 3-5, 2-11, 4-9 -- and I'm still watching.

As pathetic as it may sound, I want to hear from Mr. Wilson's mouth exactly how much he cares about his football team. I have an enormous about of respect for him, and applauded as loud as anyone in Canton when he was inducted in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. I don't need to tell him his team and administration "kinda stink." Anyone can see that, and I'm guessing a man whose made millions has more than the IQ of a third-grader.

But it occurs to me that there are several possible realities surrounding Mr. Wilson's viewpoint on his franchise:

1) The "Triple-Walled Glass Case of Emotion" Approach -- Perhaps Mr. Wilson cares very, very much about the fans and team. The man who goes to a ton of games, even appearing in the bowels of the stadium after the contest. But like many very rich veteran millionaires, maybe he's so shielded from the plight of the city that he doesn't get it. When media members ask him pointed questions, he thinks, "These are the same guys who were telling me to fire Marv Levy or trade Jim Kelly." When he sees the fans protest, he believes his trusted higher-ups who tell him, "They don't understand the injuries, or football, or why we lost today." Maybe he thinks, "They protested when they thought the team would leave in the 1990s, and I worked it out." Yes, there's a chance this man has so many "Yes Men" that reality never gets reinforced.

2) The Apathetic Approach -- Maybe Mr. Wilson is like a teenager playing "Madden." He no longer scans the waiver wire, reads the sponsor emails or checks out the "player morale" meter. He plays the first few games of each season, but if it gets to 2-3 or 1-5, he just "simulates" the rest of the season, occasionally checking box scores and thinking about firing someone. At the end of each season, he sees what the other teams do, signs some guys who other people say might be good, and starts the process over. Maybe he's like me, and "Madden" doesn't hold much interest for him anymore. Maybe he's a soccer fan. In this approach, the question is "What's more important?" and the answer is "Making sure my landscaper properly bronzes the shrubbery in the front yard of his mansion. Going green, my @$$!"

3) The "#$&@" Approach -- Let's say you've owned a business in a conglomeration for years, and did a lot to keep the entire bundle of commerce afloat when other owners were struggling. Over time, new guys bought businesses who understood what you meant to the past, but viewed you as an old curmudgeon, blocking the way of progress. In addition, when folks ignored your warnings about terrible propositions for the conglomeration, you turned out to be right, but the satisfaction wasn't exactly fulfilling because it forecasted doom for the product you've nurtured for years. That stinks.

I just want to know what the man is thinking. I've been a seasont-ticker holder -- twice, actually -- and I'd love to feel like going to the stadium every week is a winning idea, but I don't. Like a lot of folks, I don't have the loot to throw around on seven Sundays when I have 365 days of electricity and such to pump into my house in an area inexplicably crushed by taxes (Can NYC/Long Island be its own state yet?).

Part of me needs to believe in Ralph Wilson as a man. I need to know that the World War II vet who bought his dad's business while looking after the Michigan mine workers he invested in is still living life with gusto. That the passion that motivated him to offer hundreds of thousands of dollars to owners in Oakland and New England is still bubbling around inside him, willing his business to be a success. Truth is, his business is a success, but not his product on-the-field. Lot of rich Internet spammers out there, too.

I'm dozens of years away from knowing if the desire for glory goes away with age. I hope not, but I know Mr. Wilson has a heck of a story to tell, and I'd love to sit down and hear it. Maybe, as is a possibility with Lerner and the Dawg Pounders. it would just be a PR ploy that yielded nothing. But maybe, I could gain a relayable knowledge that this man is still a man with blue-collar roots looking out for the people who haven't had the massive success he's had in life.

Cause I know there are hundreds of thousands of Bills fan who would buy this team if they had the money (or if there was a man willing to sell it).

Let's talk, sir. It'd be a privilege.