I wish Al Lerner had been my dad. I wish Carmen Policy had been my uncle.

	Debris littered the field in Cleveland after fans showed their disapproval of the game officials on Sunday.

After all, a get-out-of-everything card is a useful thing to have, especially when the bestower has more money than most countries can eat.

Daddy Al gave the Cleveland Browns fans a pass for throwing bottles and other debris at officials and players near the end of the Browns-Jaguars game Sunday. Uncle Carm said he's seen much worse, too, and that we shouldn't overreact to a little gentle projectile horseplay.

What the hell, then. It's a party in Cleveland, everyone's invited, and bring your own missile.

Oh, you'll read lectures elsewhere on the behavior of fans and the extraordinary sense of license they believe they hold. The most recent example of that was the fan who baited Denver Nuggets coach Dan Issel into an anger powerful enough to spark an inappropriate racial adjective.

Not here, though. Here, we know the difference between what ought to be and what is, and we know one of the basic tenets of 21st century life, namely:

Personal responsibility ends when the potential for litigation begins.

I'll repeat that, so you don't forget it as you flit through your day, from "Not my fault" to "Not my problem" to "Not my window."

	Cleveland ranks high on the short list of cities in which you could possibly see a fans' riot.

PERSONAL

RESPONSIBILITY

ENDS

WHERE

THE

POTENTIAL

FOR

LITIGATION

BEGINS

You'll find no law degree here, but we are sure that both Daddy Al and Uncle Carm see potential lawsuits everywhere, from the NFL officials' union, the players association, other fans, the stadium security people ... someone, anyone, each bearing a lawyer and a credit card bill that could really use a full clearing.

And Lord knows we wouldn't want family members to get sued because of the actions of a few hundred, or a few thousand cranky fans.

Besides, they were plastic bottles ... well, most of them, anyway. And if you're looking for a reason to grade this one on a curve, what better way than to say, "Well, nobody got killed."

Fair enough. We can definitely place this one below World War II, the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake and most of your larger soccer riots. That's the kind of equivocation we're looking for.

In fact, when Uncle Carm said there have been snowballs thrown in games, one of which allegedly affected a field goal kicker while Uncle Carm was in San Francisco, that was enough for us. A potentially cracked skull, or a skulled 37-yard kick? God, do you even have to ask?

Oh, you "do the crime, do the time" advocates won't like to hear this, but if I was 17 with a snootful of Hair O'The Dog 100 and had just sailed the old man's Jag into the lagoon, I'd want Daddy Al and Uncle Carm to get to the scene before the cops. With Daddy Al and Uncle Carm, I'd be home free.

Either that, or I'd sue. Then I'd be home free.

Of course, there is a danger for the Browns here in that the next time a referee snatches a call from the home side, someone might decide to hurl a bag of auto parts, a block of cement, or a Steeler fan from the upper deck. With this live-and-keep-me-out-of-it policy as precedent, it's hard to tell exactly what is and what isn't going to be allowed at Daddy Al's stadium.

Then again, these things usually get handled on a case-by-case basis, namely, when someone has a case, they get handled. It isn't the reaction Daddy Al and Uncle Carm gave us this time that's the issue. It's the one they have next time, when the plastic bottles become rack-and-pinions and old mufflers.

That's when we'll see Uncle Carm and Daddy Al turn into the mean old guys who never let a kid get away with anything. You know, the kind of adult who you hate all the way until the day you're an adult yourself.

Ray Ratto of the San Francisco Chronicle is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.