A New Season Dawns

I have blown off writing about the whole Mike Shanahan vs. Albert Haynesworth Presidential Physical Fitness test 2010 because, ultimately, this whole thing should embarrass every Redskins fan everywhere. Last year's Great Saviour in a battle of whatevers with this year's Great Saviour... and I am supposed to be like, "YEAH MOTHERFUCKER!" because it's all different this time around.
Oddly enough, there are constant AM sports radio ads running for season ticket sales for the Redskins where like all the major players are saying "I'm in!" and then they ask, "Are you?" at the end. First off, this is odd because the Redskins are supposed to have the season ticket waiting list of like 78 years where people inherit their dad's spot on the waiting list. I even signed up for some shit a few years back while drunk but never heard back recently so it was probably one of my fake gmails I use for screening sluts on craigslist and ripping people off on ebay for old biker magazines I found at my uncle's place. But they're selling ticket packages through radio ads now, which sounds weird as fuck in itself.
But the fact the sales pitch is Everything is now in place, are you in? trips me the fuck out. It's like the Redskins team as seen by Dan Snyder is admitting, "Yeah, we fucked up a whole bunch. But look. Now we have a GM and a new coach and a quarterback and we're good to go. Are you truly down with the Redskins? Don't you want to be here when we finally get our dumb shit together?" The basic selling point is the same thing I use when I play the lottery, using the same three powerball numbers I always use, because the one time I don't use them, they'll hit. You are this far invested, and if that shit hits and you're not still invested, you're going to hate yourself, forever.
It is a complete line of bullshit. Look, I'm going to root for this team every painful Sunday of my life, until I am dead, but let's be real here. The strong side is the defense, which has a new coordinator and a star player who don't want to play, or run, or give a fuck. The secondary had question marks last year that never got answered, which in NFL rapid aging terms makes those question marks twice as big with a couple exclamation points and probably an ampersand (plus a lollerskate if you read DeAngelo Hall quotes like I do). And on the offensive side, man, I don't even know what to say. When it comes to WRs, we have nothing but Madden All-Pros, nothing that translates to any consistency on the actual IRL football field. The offensive line was a hodgepodge shambles last year, and Mike Shanahan rolls in with his anus mouth and 280-pound chop-blocking lineman fetish, and the one generally-considered-great player we had on the line in Chris Samuels had to retire due to the chronic crickneck, so we are hodgepodge, but worse. Yeah, we actually drafted Trent Williams, like we should have, but there's something about that guy that makes me worry he's going to get arrested with half a pound of weed in a donked out Caprice with two Alabama rappers, a couple entourage thugs, and a latina girl from the University of Florida. We have an assortment of aging RBs who will miraculously all together go against the proven history of recent NFL RBs and be fucking awesome this year, even though the perfect example of this trend in Terrell Davis is interning as a RBs coach. The very fucking guy that taught the NFL as a whole that a guy will look like a Hall of Famer for five years or so and then is nothing but a throwback jersey for local rappers to wear in youtube videos.
Man, I don't even want to get into it. The reason I came here today was to give props to my man Russ Grimm for making the Hall of Fame. The fact offensive linemen get dissed and it took this long for Grimm to get his propers, much less Joe Jacoby, who should be getting attention by now as well, it makes me sick. Art Monk got dissed all that time and finally gets put in, after Michael Irvin did, showing how the football nerd faggots that decide this type of thing suck a Jerry Jones cock and hate on the Skins. And then when Russ Grimm finally gets into the Hall of Fame, he has to deal with Emmitt Smith's goddamn fake ass, self-important bullshit at the same time.
Look, there has never been a bigger fake ass bitch than Emmitt Smith. He is most likely very thankful for not having come of professional age in the internet era where his pretend persona would be exposed like the four billion pairs of titties it has done the same to. And now Russ Grimm, a hard-working beer-drinking God-fearing ass-fucking (but only of women, unless in jail) man through and through, has to listen to Emmitt Smith pretend to give half a shit about football and the Cowboys and everything else, one last time, before his fat fucking face and cocksucking lips of a bust get put into Canton? It's not right. It's not fucking right.
And Dan Snyder owning this team is not right. He is a Cowboys man, fake and stupid and full of self-important shit and trying to buy his way into things. Russ Grimm was a Redskin. You know who else was a Redskin? John Riggins, who holds a record that will never get broken - most rushing yards by a white man in NFL history. He was a solid dude, and still is. Emmitt Smith said his stupid, "I decided to set the rushing record blah blah blah bullshit," and it bothers me deeply. I should make mention that Walter Payton breaking the record bothered me, because really, Walter Payton was no Jim Brown. But I gave up my hatred for Walter Payton, because he had a jheri curl and died from the cancers. But honestly, anybody who watched football during those years where Emmitt Smith got his yards knows that the rightful heir to the all-time rushing yards throne was Barry Sanders. But that was a class dude who bolted before he could be a half-crippled greybeard playing for like whoever the Arizona Cardinals for the Detroit Lions would be, which I guess is some sort of CFL team. This weekend made me sick. Made me sick from seeing Cowboys regalia (including some doofus-looking redneck dude at the Food Lion with his 1-year-old strapped into the cart with a tiny Tony Romo jersey, here in the middle of rural Virginia, which made me understand why eugenics still has a place on earth), from being emotionally attached to rooting for a team run by a Cowboys-philosophy owner, and a head coach who has proven nothing to me except if you live in Colorado and are part of the respected class of people, you can molest children regularly and not get in trouble with the law people, and a most expensive star player who can't do a fucking shuttle run. Hell, at least Haynesworth stomped on a Cowboys player's bare head a few years back.
I don't know what to say. Russ Grimm should be coaching this team and John Riggins should be shoving a handcrafted duck decoy made by Dave Butz up Dan Snyder's ass until he's had enough and sells the team to someone who doesn't think they know it all because they are five-foot-five with a five inch dick.
That last bit's not so much a slight, because I'm only five-and-a-half inches, like most lifelong football fans who never played organized football beyond tenth grade. But for most of my life, come August, I could get my little thing hard as fuck in a masturbatory frenzy over the possibilities of the coming season. But these am I all in commercials on the radio, and our seventeenth sudden saviour in a row... I don't know... this shit is getting played. I don't get hard over it anymore. Y'all can pretend you're sexy again, but somebody's got to show me something first at this point. I am more all in on yet another fall of yelling at my children over simple things on Sunday afternoons and slapping my 'old lady but then apologizing and blaming it on work or my brain meds or something or other. That's the problem - as a true deep down Redskins fan, I live out my team in my real life. And here I am pretending it's going to be different this time, and it's all going to change. But nothing has changed. They are going to underperform compared to their PR hype and I'm going to slap my ol' lady around. Fucking make this team good, for the sake of my children. I'm in. I've been in since 1973 when I was born into a Redskins family. Are you fucking in Mr. Snyder? Are you even fucking able to be in Mr. Haynesworth? How 'bout you McNabb; you got anything left? And you, you fucking piece of shit Mike Shanahan... are you for real in? Or are you just trying to stroke your own fucking ego by making a frigid bitch of a franchise finally orgasm another Lombardi Trophy out of their ass? Because I'm fucking in. And my ol' lady really wants you to be in, for real, for ever.