Monday, December 13, 2010

This Post Is Not Exactly About Sports. Stay With Me on This One.

Sometimes, when I find myself at home on a dreary Sunday afternoon, too energized to blog or finish reading a biography that I've been tackling forever, I'll stop the remote on a Redskins game.  Just for a minute or two.

This is mostly because I think that Donovan McNabb is a classy guy--he's won my respect with his focus, determination, and refusal to be a media diva, in comparison to clowns like T.O. (his former teammate), or Ochocinco.  And the Redskins do have an inordinate share of fine players...

Whether or not you watch games or just see clips of the Redskins' travails on the news, you have to come to one conclusion:  The team is cursed. 
Yesterday, Donovan McNabb made a game-saving touchdown pass that was practically guaranteed to send them into overtime, and well, this happened afterward.  You can skip to 0:43 for the jaw-dropper.

That pretty much sums up their whole year, probably the whole Snyder era, if you ask the die-hards.

My theory:  Until the owner does right by Native Americans and changes the name, karma will continue to have its way with the team.  You'd have thought that the name would have gone the way of the dinosaur during the p.c. '90s.  But no.  The owner of the NFL's most profitable team isn't budging, and the Supreme Court refused to hear an appeal on the issue last year. 

Snyder can keep spending truckloads of cash on big-name players who bizarrely never quite live up to their potential once they get here.  He can switch coaches every other year.  It doesn't matter.  As long as the team's racist name stays in place, "ain't no good gonna come" to that team.  What has happened to them in the past few years is far worse than any voodoo Celie put on Mister.  They know they're wrong.  Call me crazy, call me superstitious, but I'll bet the team can expect more of the same next year if they don't wise up and join the rest of the world in the 21st century.

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