Run and Pass and Score?

Dear The Redskins,

We’ve been together along time. I think we’ve had our shares of ups and downs. Recently, it’s been mostly down though and I think it’s time that we take a step back and reaccess things.

Ever since I was little, tiny, minuscule even, the colors maroon and gold have made me happy. I would get excited as the season started, your colors so entrenched in my mind with the feelings of Autumn. What a perfect team you were. The old men dressed as pigs in drag (yea, weird). There was a man at my church who played in your marching band. I played baseball with John Riggins’ son (okay, it was softball. what? I’m not good at sports). In cub scouts, I made a pinewood derby car in the shape of Darrell Green, unfortunately it was not as fast as he was.

You may call me a fairweather fan. That’s fine. But I have cheered you on, season after season. My only Redskins t-shirt is threadbare with love. My friends can attest to my continued optimism in the face of reality. But this Sunday, tears it! I say this with the utmost respect for all of you, but you effing stink!! I am ridiculed on the street by drunks when I wear your colors (seriously, happened). I watch other fans scream with joy, shriek with terror and basically have a good time watching football. My chest hurts, my mind boggles as you continually flub plays, make bad calls and look practically like a high school football team.

But the NFC East is a tough division? There are worse teams out there? I know. But those aren’t MY teams. I do not cheer for the Lions. I don’t give two Fs about some scrub, AFC team struggling with it’s coaching staff. You are the Redskins. You play in the G.D. Nations Capital!! You are better than this and as a dedicated fan, like a good friend, I’m telling you- get your act together! I am tired of being ashamed of my colors. What do I say to other fans? Do I tell them, I’m some sort of masochist?

Frankly, if you were a band I would have stopped buying your albums ages ago. Sure, you’re great players. Clinton, you are still the tits in my eyes. Chris Cooley? Hell yea. Santana and Antoine, I love you guys. The entire roster? Hell yea. I’d pick your kids up from school, I’d mow your lawn, whatever you need. But I want a team. I want to root for a team that doesn’t break my heart even when they win. Watching the clock run down as you cling to a tiny lead built on the leg of Shaun Suisham is not exciting. It’s disappointing. A win like that isn’t worth it.

As far as I’m concerned you are a minor league team now. I want to root for you, but I can’t bring myself to watch anymore. In the future I hope we can be friends. Maybe we can try again. Why don’t you call me when you’re ready to be professionals again.

From the bottom of my maroon heart, ClubAaron