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The Lone Ranger and Tonto were ambushed while crossing Texas cattle country by a large group of Comanche braves. Hiding behind a large rock outcropping, they battled the Comanches until they had fired their last bullets and shot their final arrows.
'Well my red-skinned friend…’ said the Lone Ranger tenderly to his Indian companion of so many years, 'it looks like we’ve finally come to the end of the road’
'What’s this WE shit white man?’ replied Tonto.
If you’re a Redskins fan in 2013, ALL you’ve got left are jokes my friends.
There’s no doubt, having enjoyed a public humiliation of epic proportion on national TV, taking a beating from a far superior San Francisco 49ers squad, and being dominated in every conceivable manner possible, that it’s circle the wagons time at Redskins Park.
The question is, who’s IN the circle and at whom are those guns currently aimed?
There are really only 2 ways for this all to play out.
The first possibility? The Fortress Ashburn Approach. When you don’t have any answers, can’t buy an ounce of luck or good fortune, when all the forces of Nature and the DC sports media machine seem to be aligned against you, there’s really only one thing to do. Go 'Us Against the World’.
Honestly, it’s amazing we didn’t go there 3 or 4 games ago. It was bad enough then. But now, it’s far, far worse. When folks begin rooting for your young superstar QB to have a 3rd traumatic ACL injury (because, goshdarnit, he’s just too damn successful, marketable, and visible), you know it’s bad. When Bob Costas lectures you from his NFL bully pulpit on how shameful it is that we’ve called our team 'The Redskins’ for 80+ years, you know it’s bad. When NFL officials seem to look the other way during weekly beat-downs of your heroically stubborn franchise quarterback, throwing in a verbal insult now and then for good measure, you know it’s bad. When every media interview or player comment, snippet, or tweet becomes an opportunity to stir up dissension, intrigue, disloyalty, petty jealousy, back-stabbing, and controversy, you know it’s bad. When your own Dad can’t visit you in your own locker room, without it being twisted into something ugly and ominous, you know it’s bad.
The 2013 Redskins are George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg. It’s a perfect storm, and someone is going in the big drink very soon.
Faced with the kind of organized adversity our guys have battled this season (and it ain’t over yet folks), what is still a team sport demands an 'Us Against the World’ mentality. It’s time for the Deathmobile and the 'Eat Me’ sign. Rarely has an NFL team had more to contend with than the 2013 Washington Redskins. The New Orleans Saints once battled a Hurricane but the Redskins face a tsunami of scorn and ill will it’s hard to comprehend, much less overcome.
I wish they’d circle those wagons. Arm themselves. Recognize with clarity 'who’s US’ and 'who’s THEM’. Battle. Fight. Stick together. If nothing else, unite and go down together, like that mouse flipping off the swooping eagle of doom - talons moments away. But it hasn’t happened. Players and coaches, when pressed, have said the right things, but this time with words that ring hollow, as if even they couldn’t muster the necessary belief.
Nothing can change the reality – we’re not currently a very talented football team. We’re not winning anything anytime soon. But I’m not talking about winning. I’m talking about how this franchise ought to respond to losing games, a promising season, and the opportunity to defend the NFC East crown. How does this franchise defend itself and salvage some organizational pride that could, at a bare minimum serve as a foundation for a future turn-around, something that could be built upon?
There’s another option. It’s kind of like brainstorming, minus the positive 'how can we figure this thing out together?’ aspect. The goal here would be finding who to blame, and in a hurry, and punishing them as swiftly, publically, and violently as possible.
Let’s call it 'Blamestorming’.
Instead of circling all those wagons and standing together until the onslaught has waned and subsided, we take all those guns, harsh words of criticism, and 'accountability’ and turn them inward on someone, anyone to vent and cleanse ourselves of the outrage of our disappointment. We fire someone. And I mean fire them. Hell – fire all of them. Burn baby, burn. Nuclear war – let’s get it over with! I can feel the warmth kissing my cheeks already just at the thought of it.
That’s the other way to go. Burn someone in effigy. Raise that sacrificial lamb and make some porkchops out of her. Get 'er done. Pass the Sweet Baby Rays.
That’s the other way to go.
In the pain and misery of the moment, I just want something to change. I’ve always been, at heart, a circle the wagons, go out in a blaze of glory, kind of a guy. I could forgive our team’s suckitude, no matter how all-encompassing it might be, if they players and coaches stuck together, told all their critics to piss off, and kept fighting. With that kind of unified organizational determination against whatever the Gods hath brought down upon us, I could maintain some pride of affiliation and hope for the future.
What I can’t stand is a lack of fire. Resignation. A seeming succumbing to 'fate’ and 'luck’. Passivity. Ambivalence. Que sera sera. I can’t stand that. When your ass is on fire, you don’t stand around asking everyone around you if they smell something burning. Do something. ANYTHING.
If you think it hurts being a Redskins fan on 11/26/13, imagine what it must be like to be Robert Griffin, Mike Shanahan, or even Daniel Snyder. The pressure and tension must be almost unimaginable. I don’t know what the right answer is, and if you say you do, you’re kidding yourself.
But the time has come to do something.
Circle the wagons.
Or start shooting deserters.
We have to do something.
Yeah – I know. What’s this WE shit white man?
'Well my red-skinned friend…’ said the Lone Ranger tenderly to his Indian companion of so many years, 'it looks like we’ve finally come to the end of the road’
'What’s this WE shit white man?’ replied Tonto.
If you’re a Redskins fan in 2013, ALL you’ve got left are jokes my friends.
There’s no doubt, having enjoyed a public humiliation of epic proportion on national TV, taking a beating from a far superior San Francisco 49ers squad, and being dominated in every conceivable manner possible, that it’s circle the wagons time at Redskins Park.
The question is, who’s IN the circle and at whom are those guns currently aimed?
There are really only 2 ways for this all to play out.
The first possibility? The Fortress Ashburn Approach. When you don’t have any answers, can’t buy an ounce of luck or good fortune, when all the forces of Nature and the DC sports media machine seem to be aligned against you, there’s really only one thing to do. Go 'Us Against the World’.
Honestly, it’s amazing we didn’t go there 3 or 4 games ago. It was bad enough then. But now, it’s far, far worse. When folks begin rooting for your young superstar QB to have a 3rd traumatic ACL injury (because, goshdarnit, he’s just too damn successful, marketable, and visible), you know it’s bad. When Bob Costas lectures you from his NFL bully pulpit on how shameful it is that we’ve called our team 'The Redskins’ for 80+ years, you know it’s bad. When NFL officials seem to look the other way during weekly beat-downs of your heroically stubborn franchise quarterback, throwing in a verbal insult now and then for good measure, you know it’s bad. When every media interview or player comment, snippet, or tweet becomes an opportunity to stir up dissension, intrigue, disloyalty, petty jealousy, back-stabbing, and controversy, you know it’s bad. When your own Dad can’t visit you in your own locker room, without it being twisted into something ugly and ominous, you know it’s bad.
The 2013 Redskins are George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg. It’s a perfect storm, and someone is going in the big drink very soon.
Faced with the kind of organized adversity our guys have battled this season (and it ain’t over yet folks), what is still a team sport demands an 'Us Against the World’ mentality. It’s time for the Deathmobile and the 'Eat Me’ sign. Rarely has an NFL team had more to contend with than the 2013 Washington Redskins. The New Orleans Saints once battled a Hurricane but the Redskins face a tsunami of scorn and ill will it’s hard to comprehend, much less overcome.
I wish they’d circle those wagons. Arm themselves. Recognize with clarity 'who’s US’ and 'who’s THEM’. Battle. Fight. Stick together. If nothing else, unite and go down together, like that mouse flipping off the swooping eagle of doom - talons moments away. But it hasn’t happened. Players and coaches, when pressed, have said the right things, but this time with words that ring hollow, as if even they couldn’t muster the necessary belief.
Nothing can change the reality – we’re not currently a very talented football team. We’re not winning anything anytime soon. But I’m not talking about winning. I’m talking about how this franchise ought to respond to losing games, a promising season, and the opportunity to defend the NFC East crown. How does this franchise defend itself and salvage some organizational pride that could, at a bare minimum serve as a foundation for a future turn-around, something that could be built upon?
There’s another option. It’s kind of like brainstorming, minus the positive 'how can we figure this thing out together?’ aspect. The goal here would be finding who to blame, and in a hurry, and punishing them as swiftly, publically, and violently as possible.
Let’s call it 'Blamestorming’.
Instead of circling all those wagons and standing together until the onslaught has waned and subsided, we take all those guns, harsh words of criticism, and 'accountability’ and turn them inward on someone, anyone to vent and cleanse ourselves of the outrage of our disappointment. We fire someone. And I mean fire them. Hell – fire all of them. Burn baby, burn. Nuclear war – let’s get it over with! I can feel the warmth kissing my cheeks already just at the thought of it.
That’s the other way to go. Burn someone in effigy. Raise that sacrificial lamb and make some porkchops out of her. Get 'er done. Pass the Sweet Baby Rays.
That’s the other way to go.
In the pain and misery of the moment, I just want something to change. I’ve always been, at heart, a circle the wagons, go out in a blaze of glory, kind of a guy. I could forgive our team’s suckitude, no matter how all-encompassing it might be, if they players and coaches stuck together, told all their critics to piss off, and kept fighting. With that kind of unified organizational determination against whatever the Gods hath brought down upon us, I could maintain some pride of affiliation and hope for the future.
What I can’t stand is a lack of fire. Resignation. A seeming succumbing to 'fate’ and 'luck’. Passivity. Ambivalence. Que sera sera. I can’t stand that. When your ass is on fire, you don’t stand around asking everyone around you if they smell something burning. Do something. ANYTHING.
If you think it hurts being a Redskins fan on 11/26/13, imagine what it must be like to be Robert Griffin, Mike Shanahan, or even Daniel Snyder. The pressure and tension must be almost unimaginable. I don’t know what the right answer is, and if you say you do, you’re kidding yourself.
But the time has come to do something.
Circle the wagons.
Or start shooting deserters.
We have to do something.
Yeah – I know. What’s this WE shit white man?
