Harvey is a classic Clevelander. He knows every dive bar, neighborhood gem and best bathroom in the city like the back of his hand. He loves gathering up the family and heading Downtown for a walking tour of his childhood: “There’s the bar where I found out LeBron was coming back. Grandpa used to take us to Little Italy for cassata cake the size of your head. I proposed to your mother in front of Mr. Jingling and God right here in Tower City.”
Harvey is in the mug club at no fewer than 46% of Cleveland’s breweries at any time. He’s proud of Cordelia, just like he was of Lola, but he’d much rather down a Polish Boy from a vendor or do a pizza crawl in Lakewood. He loves riding his trail bike through the CVNP, skipping rocks at Tinker’s Creek with his eldest boy or watching fireworks from Edgewater Beach.
He cried when the Browns left, cried when they came back and cried quietly to himself every Sunday since. He squeezes himself into his Mark Price jersey and heads to Rocket to cheer on Evan Mobley and his “amazing court sense” and continually quotes “Major League” at Guards games.