Who am I? I’m a writer who lives in Los Angeles. I spent the first 22 years of my life in Maryland, most of it in Columbia.
Why am I writing a Redskins blog? I don’t really have a good reason. There certainly isn’t a need for another one. How will this one be different? Well, I have zero access to anyone involved with the Redskins, so there most likely won’t be a whole lot of inside information. I also spend a lot of time writing other things (books, a comic strip, screenplays), so who knows how frequently I’ll post. I write a lot of comedy stuff, so maybe this will give me another outlet to crack jokes… But really, the only real reason I can give you is – I LOVE THE REDSKINS! I’ve been a fan since I was 5 years old, and I became a diehard at 7. I’ve hated the cowboys, that stupid star on their helmet, and that shiny color silver with a passion ever since. My devotion to the Skins borders on unhealthy.
I’ll give you some examples. I used to play on a youth basketball team which my father coached. We had a game scheduled at the same time the Skins were going to play Dallas in the NFC championship game in 1982. I could not believe that the game wasn’t going to be postponed. What was wrong with everyone? I was actually going to have to miss watching something that I considered “The most exciting event in the history of human existence” (I still believe that, by the way). Anyway, this was Unacceptable. So I had no choice but to do what I did next. Let me set the stage. My family was about to have dinner the evening before the game. When I was called down to join them, I, ahhhhhhhh – fell down the stairs. Oh, the pain, the agony. Would my ankle ever heal correctly, I said as I writhed on the floor.
My father was skeptical. He knew of my Redskins passion. I would have to be very consistent, which I was as I limped and whined in pain without fail the rest of the night. The only problem was the next morning I forgot which ankle I fake injured. I guessed it was my left, and continued my limping (with that pathetic look on your face when you’re in pain, and that occasional little moan to remind everyone that you need to be pitied). Well, no one questioned that I was limping on the wrong leg, so I got lucky there. But there was still wariness: “There doesn’t look like there’s any swelling.” “Yeah, but it still really, really hurts.” I continued to stay consistent. Too much was at stake not to. Game time for my basketball game was nearing. My father asked, “Can you play?” “I can’t, dad, it hurts too much.” He gave me that skeptical look. I couldn’t waver now. I made the injury face again as I tried moving my foot.
Well, he either believed that I was injured, or was impressed with my willingness to take a fake injury so far, because he left to coach the game. And I stayed home! Henceforth, my faking of an injury allowed me to watch the most incredible game of my young life: Redskins 31 – Cowboys 17! The Skins were going to the Super Bowl! It was something that I never even dreamed possible until they actually won the game. The Skins beating the Cowboys that day, at that time, was the greatest moment of my life. And so the moral to the story, kids, is that lying is okay as long as it involves watching a Redskin game, especially if it’s the Cowboys and it’s the playoffs.
You need more examples of my devotion? Okay, well, I would watch every second of every game in our living room with my father and brother on a nice big color TV. But there was a problem. They liked to chatter. Well for someone like me, who lived and died with every play, it made it hard to concentrate. I needed to hear everything the announcers were saying. This was not negotiable. Yet my father and brother kept talking, and sometimes not even about football! What was wrong with them? But then, the final straw came. We were watching a very important game. I’m pretty sure it was against the Giants. It was late in the fourth quarter of a close game. Skins had the ball—third and long. I’m at the peak of my concentration, when my mom barged in to the room wanting to know why my father hadn’t done anything about the leaky roof yet. What?!!! It’s third and long in the fourth quarter!!! How could anything else in the world be important right now? I didn’t care if a massive twister had snatched our roof and made off with it down the street – this was the pivotal play of the game!
So, obviously, I had enough. I thought about exploring if Joe Gibbs would adopt me, but after looking into it, the odds seemed long. So I made a choice. For the next few years, until I went to college, I chose to watch all the games in my bedroom – where I had only a 12-inch black and white TV. And I would sit about a foot and a half away and be completely locked in to everything that happened. And, you know what, it was heaven. No chatter, no roof-talk, just me and the games… I miss that little TV.
So, that gives just a small taste of my devotion. And in all my years of watching Skins games, I’ve only missed one. And it was because I had no choice. (If you’re squeamish at all, don’t read on. I realize, of course, that now you have no choice but to read on.) Okay, so the one game I missed was because, well, I was in an ER with a catheter in my cock, getting my bladder drained to avoid an infection. Yeah, that’s right, I had a rod jammed in my rod. Not a fond memory. I’m wincing just thinking about it. And at that moment, I have to be honest, I really wasn’t even thinking about the Redskins game. For me, that’s unbelievable – but when your dick is violated in a manner that even medieval torturers would think is cruel – it’s really difficult to wonder how many yards Terry Allen has against the Cardinals. When they finally took that God-Forsaken thing out, I did ask for a score update. And the Skins won! I really, sincerely, like to hope and believe that my taking one in the junk helped play a part in that victory. At least that’s what I tell myself to quell the sobbing.
So, what have we learned? I’m a major diehard Skins fan … I’ll fake any kind of injury not to miss a game … I’m not well in the head when it comes to concentrating during games … and I’ve had a horrible ER experience that I have no idea why I shared… So, without further ado, please enjoy my pointless useful Redskins blog.
Oh, and to see what else I do online, check out my weekly Hollywood web comic: STUDIO READER STAN
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