The most famous jersey in the city of Cleveland started as a prank after one of the many forgettable moments in Cleveland Browns post-1999 quarterback history.

That jersey, which lists the names of all the 24 starting quarterbacks for the Browns since the team returned from a three-year Art Modell-imposed hiatus, has become an icon of sorts for the Browns and their fans. It represents what everyone would like to forget, but can’t -- the Browns’ seemingly endless struggle to find a quarterback.

Tim Couch’s name is first, crossed out with a black marker. Following are 22 other names crossed out with a single line. The only name not crossed out is the most recent starter.

The jersey has become an item of interest every time the Browns start another quarterback. Photos of it swarm Twitter, online information about it posted, the hashtag #TheJersey resurfaces. And the Cleveland media dutifully shows up at the downtown advertising agency offices of Brokaw, Inc., to photograph or film it.

But it’s also something the jersey’s inventor, developer and owner would just as soon do away with -- both for the history it represents and for what it brings, which seems to be the truest of love-hate relationships.

“I’ve contemplated killing it,” said Tim Brokaw, the co-CEO of the advertising agency in downtown Cleveland.

Gasp if you will, but Brokaw has suffered with the jersey. He grew up a Browns fan in a suburb of Cleveland and has had season tickets in both the Dawg Pound and the Club Seats. He’s as weary of the names constantly changing as anyone.

Brokaw created the jersey for the second game of the 2007 season. Charlie Frye started the opener, struggled and was replaced by Derek Anderson. Two days later, Frye was traded. Yes, the Browns traded their opening-day starter two days after the opener.

“The city was down in the dumps after that,” Brokaw said. “I had clients coming in from Cincinnati for a Browns-Bengals game. So I thought it would be entertaining to duct tape the names of all the quarterbacks on a jersey.”

He borrowed a Couch jersey from a high school friend (that's why Couch's name is first), then taped on the rest of the names — which at that time “only” numbered 11.

Brokaw wore the jersey to the game, and was surprised it got the notice it did.

“It was a little disturbing,” he said, “because people were taking pictures of my back when I was using the restroom. That was the last time I ever wore it to a game.”

That didn’t stop the interest. The jersey was photographed and publicized to the point that Brokaw said he “created a monster.”

He now is almost obligated to bring out the jersey every time a new quarterback starts.

“We’re kind of like Punxsutawney Phil,” he said.

The jersey is displayed on a red-headed mannequin in the agency’s window, but appearances are fleeting. Its most recent appearance was when Austin Davis became starter No. 24 on Dec. 6.

“We put it in our window for the media,” Brokaw said. “Then it goes into hiding in an undisclosed storage room.”

Brokaw said the jersey actually has become a bit of an annoyance to the agency, which is owned by him and his brother Gregg and which recently won the Ad Age Small Agency of the Year honor for its culture and growing national client roster. Brokaw came to work one day to discover a rock had been thrown through the business’ window.

“That was a little alarming,” he said.

He has little doubt the rock was from angry Browns fan.

“The rock was right at the base of the mannequin,” he said. “Nothing was stolen.”

He also hears from folks on the company Twitter account, @BrokawInc.

“Ninety percent of it is funny,” Brokaw said. “But 10 percent of the people say that Brokaw is responsible for the curse or they’re going to steal the jersey.”

Because it was becoming such a distraction, Brokaw took the Twitter suggestion of ESPN’s Darren Rovell and last year ran an online poll to see what should be done with the jersey. The options: Keep it until the Browns make the playoffs, auction it off with proceeds benefitting Prayers From Maria (a Cleveland charity fighting children’s cancer), or burn it.

Keeping it until the Browns make a playoff appearance won with 60 percent of the vote. That didn’t stop Brokaw and his employees from having some fun, though.

On a web site called reversetheqbcurse.com, motion designers and video folks from the agency came up with creative ideas to get rid of the jersey. One animation shows a dragon burning it. Another shows it receiving a Viking funeral. A third has it dropped from a Cleveland landmark, the Terminal Tower.

“Browns Nation said playoffs, so whenever that is ... ” Brokaw said. “But if the [Pro Football] Hall of Fame said, ‘We’d take it,’ we’d definitely donate it there. We’d love to kill the monster we created.”

Thing is, icons don't die easily. Brokaw understands that he’s recording part of the Browns' and the city’s history, and that people have somehow identified with this jersey in a very Cleveland sort of way -- embracing it but dreading it at the same time.