I always know when it’s time for football season to get in gear again. That’s when I start to go through my various team shirts and drool. It’s when I look for shoulder pads – and I’m not talking about the ones still in the old work suits hanging in my closet. Football season — I can almost feel it — the Sunday afternoons on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn, the remote in my grasp, and the Washington Redskins on the big screen. Okay, so it’s not a big screen and the dog gets most of the popcorn. I still control the remote on Redskins days.
I know – I live in Ohio and I should be paying attention to either the Cincinnati Bengals or the Cleveland Browns. Well, I’ve spent the last 15 or so years trying to be a Cleveland Browns fan — I have the shirts even. But they’re not the Redskins. Yes, they have the Dawg Pound…but they’re just not the Hogs. I have never been able to get behind the Bengals — okay, I enjoyed Boomer Esiason for awhile, but really I have no respect for a team with tiger stripes. It’s just too much like watching Tony the Tiger and then I want cereal. No, it’s the Redskins for me, now and forever. It’s my heritage; it’s in my DNA; it’s where I’m from.
The other day I had thrown some jeans and my Skins shirt on to make a run to Target. As I was walking into the store this lady starts shouting at me – “Hey I love your shirt. Go Redskins!” At first it didn’t register; she couldn’t possibly be yelling at me — wait, did she mention the Skins? She did – she IS yelling at me. OMG there’s one other Redskins fan in the state of Ohio besides myself. Sweet.
So if you’re a Dallas Cowboys fan, don’t even bother leaving a comment; it will likely be obnoxious and I’ll have to delete it. This blog is 100% Washington Redskins territory. And now with Gibbs back in racing and out of the way, we’re gonna have a good year.