A Special Recognition of a Dude Named Howard Green

(Dexter Manley, showing off his Super Bowl ring, Obama be damned; this has very little to do with my post but is an awesome picture nonetheless)

As the Redskins go into their first preseason game of 2010 tonight, I must make mention of a guy I feel really bad for on this team... and there's guys like him on every NFL team this time of year. I'm talking of a buried in the depth chart defensive lineman Howard Green, who played for the Jets last year and was signed as part of Mike Shanahan's plan to have about 39 different veteran linemen fight for spots on a new defensive formation to hopefully scare Lord Albert Haynesworth into giving half a shit. Green has bounced around and in and out of the league since 2002 when he was drafted by the stupid Houston Texans, who most likely will never have somebody contribute to Armchair Linebacker because I'm not even sure if they have fans.
Why do I feel bad for this guy who will make six figures guaranteed if he can crack the 53-man roster? Well, it's in the numbers. His jersey number to be specific. You see, Howard Green wears #72, which on the Redskins is a sacred defensive number sported by the unparalleled Dexter Manley - a man so naturally awesome he could overcome illiteracy and cocaine addiction to break a window into our collective hearts. Shit, my mom bought me a customized Redskins jersey for my birthday a few years back with CONMACK as the name and the number I requested was 72. I don't ever wear it because for some reason she got 3XL, and even with me being 6'1" and 230 lbs, it looks like a goddamned nightgown on me.
But that is not the problem with Howard Green wearing #72. The problem is he's not the only guy on the Redskins roster right now wearing #72, and the other guy is blue chip super draft pick rookie starter-to-be mongoloid tackle Trent Williams, who has already cashed a seven-figure signing bonus, and hasn't even played a game in the NFL. (Note to Trent Williams: don't break your leg tonight.)
This happens all around the NFL, where you have those roster fillers in preseason who sit in the second room of the locker room and hope to make it to the final 53 come kickoff of the regular season in September. And most of those guys can think to themselves, "Hey, I bust ass, make a good effort on special teams, stay healthy, me and my jersey are gonna make the transition through those doors to the main locker room, baby." But when you are sharing a number with the anointed lynchpin of the team's offensive line for the next decade, yeah, it's hard to day dream too much. Dude is pretty much fucked. He is the NFL equivalent of the black guy in a 1980s horror movie. He is the freckled middle child sandwiched between an older sister who is National Honor Society and getting a full scholarship to some froufrou nerd college to study Anthroguistics or some shit and a younger brother who led the local little league all-stars to the state finals at age 9. Howard Green is a guy who already has filled out two-thirds of his online UPS application and has it saved, with his login information written on a sticky note inside the front cover of his playbood.
God Bless you Howard Green.