20 November 2012

You Aren't Worth One to 2,000 Pennies More

Dear Chris Cooley,
 
I was disappointed when I heard that you were cut from the Redskins in the pre-season, but I got over it pretty quickly.  No one wants to see fan favorites go, but watching Sir Robert Griffin the Third and Fred Davis together made everyone forget who you were until poor Davis got hurt.  Instantly, Washington was like, "Where's old Whatshisface?  Cooley! Cooley!  COOOOOOOOOLEY!"  I started Googling you and found a quote about how you thought that the Redskins might re-sign you if something happened to Davis: “If Fred gets hurt or something like that, I think I’d be the guy they sign. I think that.”  I read on to see if you qualified that statement with a "Hopefully he stays fine!" or a "not that I want that to happen," but you didn't.  Kinda mean, Chris.  It makes me feel like you spent the first month of the season watching the games, clutching your little Fred Davis voodoo doll and waiting for the opportune moment to tear his Achilles' tendon and get your position back.  SHADY.
 
Redskins fans love making mascots out of favorite players, though, so everyone was happy to have you back, but you haven't really done anything.  I feel like I got excited for nothing and that's disappointing.  I felt a little better today when I read that you wanted a case of beer after every game to be added to your contract this time around.  That's incredibly stupid.  I'm not even going to roll my eyes at Danny Snyder for not letting it slide when someone could easily sue him and the Redskins organization when you inevitably realize that your career is over, drink all of one of those said cases, get in your much too expensive car and mow down a bunch of fans because why should they live when you can no longer be a gridiron hero?  Also, it's funny that the Redskins were desperate for a tight end but still didn't add, "And $20 for Mr. Cooley to buy a case of some shitty ass Miller Light," to your contract.  You are worth exactly what they are paying you and not one to 2,000 pennies more.
 
Now that Flying Dog is going to supply you with some of their beer, here's who you should share some of it with:
 
Sir Robert Griffin the Third: If I have to tell you why this guy deserves beer, love songs, and papal blessings, you must be comatose in a room that isn't within ten miles of a TV or a radio.  There is no excuse for anyone who doesn't sing this guy's accolades every day.
 
AMMO!  Alfred Morris, affectionately called "Ammo" in my house (Redskins Friend/Housemate coined it) reminds me of Clinton Portis on the field back when he was young and not accident-prone, but this guy doesn't have an ego!  It's amazing!  His car is even shittier than mine!  Give that guy a beer.
 
Santana Moss.  Did you SEE that catch on Sunday?  Just...wow.
 
Kai Forbath, the kicker.  I know, I know.  I hate kickers, but he hasn't screwed up yet.  Give him half a beer because he's not great at kick returns--maybe the incentive of some frothy goodness will give him the motivation that he needs.
 
Phristopher Polumbus--this guy has an awesome name.  Every time that I see the back of his jersey, I laugh at him.  And every time that he gets a false start penalty called on him because he's an idiot, I get to say, "PHRISTOPHER!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"  Say it aloud.  Once you do, you'll forget forever that his real first name is...um...ah...starts with a T?  Oh, forget it.  He should just get his name legally changed.  (Side note: the more that we call him "Phristopher" the more that it sounds like a real name to us.  Redskins Fiance is pulling for us to name a futue child Phristopher, but his last name isn't Polumbus or Pooley, so I will have to veto that.)
 
In the future, if I hear that you're actually on the field for a play, I want to hear that you do something spectacular and noteworthy--especially now that you're getting your beer.
 
Happy Thanksgiving and Good Luck on Thursday,
 
Karen

07 October 2012

I Have So Many Emotions

Dear Mike Shanahan,

REMEMBER ME?  I'm sure that my nearly 18-month absence lulled you into a false sense of security.  Perhaps you believed that drafting an absolute stud like Mr. Griffin the Third was enough to silence me, but you were wrong.  As I told Redskins Fiance throughout today's game, I HAVE SO MANY EMOTIONS and now you get to hear alllllllll about them.  Strap yourself in; it's going to be a long and disturbing ride, just like my experience watching the Redskins lose to the Atlanta Falcons.

To be nice, I'll start with what I like: Alfred Morris.  Like all the previous Alfred's before him, he's a class act and super impressive at his job.  Just like Batman can't eat breakfast in the morning without his Alfred, Mr. Griffin the Third can't be as effective without his own wingman (I mean...we can't expect him to throw the ball to himself--though I'm certain that he'd be good at that if he set his mind to it).  Alfred Morris is amazing.  He reminds me of a young, effective Clinton Portis and everyone knows how much I adored Portis.  This guy is a MONSTER and it's hard to take him down.  One of my favorite things today was watching them play the exact same play over and over again and the Falcons looking surprised that Morris was able to get a first down despite their mediocre efforts.

DeAngelo Hall was surprising, too, since he generally misses tackles and has one good play a game--but today he had at least TWO good plays and I was super proud of him.

Who noticed Sav Rocca's punt within the 5-yard line?  I noticed, I liked, and I almost started regretting my notoriously sour feelings against punters just because they're almost like cousins to kickers..but don't get me STARTED on "Cousins."

He's an unsung hero, but London Fletcher is still a beast in my eyes.  Yes, he had a penalty against him, but how often does he get penalized?  The answer is "not often" because he's really just that great.  Did that one penalty cost us the game?  Of course not.  Kirk Cousins cost us the game, not any one penalty.  But we'll get to that douche canoe later.

Brandon Banks gets a bad rap. He's this little, tiny guy and he's not very effective. Most of the time when he runs with a kick or punt return, he gets stopped at the 20-yard line and EVERYONE is like, "DUDE!  I could do that!  Just take a knee in the End Zone!"  Honestly, I love that he still tries, unlike Antwaan Randle El back in the day.  And today, Brandon Banks had an awesome return that put us in Falcon territory.  He's not a perfect player, but I was proud of his attempts.  I think that he can do more than he has, but he keeps me interested in seeing what he'll do  every week.

Mr. Griffin the Third is...well, it's too soon to call him Saint RGIII unless he actually dies from his probable concussion (the "Saint" title is reserved for real saints and Joe Gibbs).  I love watching this man play football.  He makes me feel like I could be a better person and that poverty could be cured just because of the beauty I see everytime that he pitches the ball to Alfred Morris and we get a first down.  Please get better, Mr. Griffin the Third.  I love AND respect you.

Let's not forget Ryan Kerrigan.  Even Anti-Redskins Best Friend loves this guy and for good reason.  I love that when he caught that interception, he didn't hesitate.  He just got it and ran it in for the touchdown as if he does it all the time when we all know that he doesn't because he's a Redskin and he almost NEVER gets that opportunity. 

Josh Wilson was sometimes good and sometimes bad.  But he's #26, Clinton Portis' number, so I have a a soft spot in my heart for him.  And I expect more than what he did...but he had just enough good plays to keep my mouth shut for another week.

But you know what, Shanahan?  You have problems...two in particular.  The first is Billy Cundiff.  I wasn't willing to overlook last week's dismal 25% field goal completion rate AT ALL, but today was a new game and all I cared about was winning--if it had to be with him on our team, SO BE IT.  Then he missed another field goal.  FOR SERIOUS.  I don't even...I don't understand.    There are no words.  My brain shuts down whenever I try to determine why Cu**f*** (yeah, I made up a name for him) is still on the team.

The second problem is Kirk "Ken Doll" Cousins.  The name "Cousins" gives me a nice warm feeling because I LOVE my cousins and I was pleasantly surprised by his touchdown pass to Santana Moss.  "Oh my God!" I shouted at my TV.  "Kirk Cousins!  He doesn't suck!"  Smiles were seen, wine was poured, and wine was savored (by me--lots of it).  Even if the Redskins offensive line is still terrible, maybe we have a valuable backup in Kirk Cousins!  Though it was like a knife stabbed into my heart to see a dazed Mr. Griffin the Third walk to the locker room to get looked over, I was cautiously excited.  Maybe Cousins was more than just the stupidest fourth round pick than I'd ever seen.

Then he threw an interception.  Suddenly, the game was tied up.  Redskins Fiance tried to convince me that this kid was okay and he'd just had a little bad luck, but I was not quick to agree.  I've been a football fan longer and harder than this guy (I would never agree to marry someone who thought that he was a bigger fan--it would open him up to a world of physical pain every football season when I proved otherwise through cage-fighting) so I know a LITTLE (a lot) more about the game than he does.  I was proven right when Cousins threw yet ANOTHER interception.

Please pass on this message to Kirk Cousins:  I understand that you LOOK like a Ken doll...but are you playing like crap because you have no penis...LIKE A KEN DOLL?  That is my only explanation.  I hope that Barbie can assuage your feelings of impotence tonight, but I don't have high hopes--

Much like the rest of Washington.  Until Mr. Griffin the Third is fully healthy, no one has high hopes.  Please get him back.

Your team's #1 fan,

Karen

30 September 2012

I Guess That I Should Thank You

Dear Billy Cundiff,

Hi.  We haven't met yet, but I'm certain that you've heard of me because my letters strike fear into the hearts of many a player.  Especially kickers.  I think that you've heard of kickers, right?  I feel like I have to ask because today's game against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers leads me to believe that you don't know what that position entails.  Let me spell it out for you:

KICKERS ARE SUPPOSED TO MAKE FIELD GOALS.  You might be confused because you were signed by the Washington Redskins and we all know their history of kickers. I still can't hear the name Shaun Suisham without immediately needing to take a scalding hot shower where I might sometimes sit and cry until the water grows cold.  Or I might not.  Whatever.

Last week, against the Cincinnati Bengals, I understood when you missed the 62-yard field goal.  Sure, some kickers would have tried extra hard to win the game for their team, but 62 yards is kind of a lot to ask.  So I was disappointed, but didn't hate you.  Yet.  Don't worry, you made it happen today.  I almost wrote a song about how I detest you, but no one wants to hear me sing just the two words, "F**k you" over and over again in different pitches.

"But, Karen, I won the game," you'd probably say if I deigned to speak to you ever.  WHATEVER.  A 25% field goal completion record is pretty dismal.  I could let go of the 57-yarder, but there's really no excuse for missing 41-yard and 31-yard kicks that aren't blocked or touched.  So I asked myself what could have happened in your past to make you so terrible and I found the answer.

You used to be a Cowboy.  Apparently, the powers that be in the Washington Redskins organization did not learn from previous mistakes (Jim Zorn, Deion Sanders, Shaun Suisham, etc.) and ignored the biggest rule in D.C.: never sign former Cowboys to the Redskins.  What kills me a little inside is that you replaced Shuan Suisham in Dallas and then (after he screwed us over in a game against the Cowboys) he replaced YOU.  Someone thought that the scourge of D.C. was better than YOU.  I don't think that Shaun Suisham ever even missed three field goals in one game and he was awful.

In a way, I guess that I should thank you.  Thank you, Billy Cundiff, for proving to me once again that kickers are never to be trusted.  Thank you for outraging me sufficiently enough to write to you and thank you for the nightmares that I'm sure to have about being forced to watch you and Shaun Suisham miss field goals and then jump in the air and high five about it because you're the worst men in the NFL, despite players like an ex-convict, Adam "Pacman" Jones, and Ray Lewis who DID NOT kill a guy.  Allegedly. Ahem.

Oh, and thanks for finally doing your effing job and making a field goal at the end,

Karen