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The Colonic

It takes a little time and effort to really clean out your intestinal tract.
First, you have to swear off solid food for awhile. Then, you’re forced to ingest about a liter of 'Golytely’, surely one of the most inaccurately and ironically named products ever. Finally, there are the innumerable and exhausting trips to the bathroom before the body is fully and finally cleansed. It takes awhile to rid the body of all that waste and excrement - if you think about it, it’s a lot like being a Redskins fan in 2013.

Few fan bases have experienced the kind of collective colonoscopy Redskins fans have endured over the past 20 years. So used to taking it up the…well, you know…Skins faithful hardly know what to make of life 'post-procedure’.

These are surreal days full of something we vaguely recognize from those distant, faded glory days.


The Redskins don’t suck.

They aren’t inept.
They’re drafting well.
They may have the most talented QB in the NFL and in their franchise’s history under center.
They lead the league in rushing with over 2700 yards on the ground last year.
They're defending NFC East Champions.
And other teams fear them.

Who ARE you George Costanza?

Despite this obvious sea change, Redskins fans can’t escape a pervasive sense of unspoken dread. Something bad will happen. This kind of joy and satisfaction simply can’t last. It’s a dream we’ll wake up from, any minute now. The curse of Snyder can’t possibly give way to an era of good fortune and glory.

Can it?

It takes awhile to rid the body of all that waste and excrement.

But the changes we’re seeing aren’t some drug-induced hallucination. They’re real. We’ve got a solid coaching staff. A much maligned Mike Shanahan may be a control freak, but there’s a method to his madness. Nepotism may be alive and well in Ashburn, Virginia, but Kyle Shanahan has created an explosive, paradigm-shifting attack in the 'Pistol’ read option offense that is shaking the foundation of NFL defensive strategy. The Redskins are capable of battering you with a physical and committed running game, dissecting you with an impossible to predict air game, or threatening to do either on any given play. And they’re in the midst of a youth movement we haven’t seen in decades, getting to the playoffs last year with one of the youngest rosters in the NFL. On Defense and Special Teams, the Redskins are making strides, boosting talent in uniform and on the sidelines. This team? It’s no mirage. It’s good. Damn good.

But demons of the past haunt us. Naysayers point to the Redskins imperfect pass protection, and predict the inevitable end of Robert Griffin III’s career before it ever really gets started. Skeptics bemoan a piecemeal, blue collar Offensive Line and wonder if we’ll ever see another version of 'The Hogs’ in burgundy and gold. Critics worry about an unproven and inexperienced secondary. Hell, some of us just figure good old fashioned bad luck will derail this train soon enough.

It takes awhile to rid the body of all that waste and excrement.

So hard have recent times been to Redskins fans, we’re even afraid of the Preseason  We watch the games with one eye closed, like driving past a highway accident, unable to turn away but certain a horrific fatality is just a glimpse away. We invent catastrophic controversies in the locker room, festering rifts surely about to rip the team asunder. We predict disaster so it doesn’t hurt so much when it actually happens.

We’ve become conspiracy theorists. Finally convinced perhaps the Redskins aren’t cursed after all, that Lady Luck hasn’t forsaken us altogether, we invent real world boogeymen. Goodell. Mara. They’ll get us in the end. Because we’re the Redskins. Because 'They’ can. And because, hell, that’s just the way it goes for Redskins fans.

It takes awhile to rid the body of all that waste and excrement.

But I woke up this morning.


The colonoscopy is over. I’ve got a clean bill of health. I’m not sick, diseased, or doomed .I’ve got years of glorious life ahead of me.

It’s time to party.

Sic 'Em Redskins.
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