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

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

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

Are You a Businessman or a Crybaby?

Dear Dan Snyder,

I have something for you here.  Come closer.  Do you see it?  Yup, in the words of the meanest teacher that I had in high school, Sister Satan, "This is the smallest violin in the world playing 'My Heart Cries for You.'"  She was being sarcastic because she was a horrid person who didn't deserve to be married to Jesus, but her words have stuck with me nevertheless and I hope that they stick to you as well as Vinny Cerrato's lips stuck to your butt all the while that he worked for you and helped to make my beloved team what it is today: a team of  losers.

As everyone in the DC area is already aware, you've filed a lawsuit against Dave McKenna from the Washington City Paper and accused the paper of being a tabloid among other offenses because of his article that basically just reminded every Redskins fan of all the reasons why we dislike you.  Really, guy, people talk trash about you all the time.  For me, a conversation isn't complete until I've eviscerated you in some way (for example, when I spoke to a belligerent client on the phone about his dissatisfaction with my division and I quipped, "At least we're not Dan Snyder with the Redskins," and then he and I had a good laugh and became best friends).  Unfortunately for me, I'm pretty sure that I'm unprotected from your retribution unlike Dave McKenna is as member of the media.  I might have spent more time doing homework for other classes than actually doing...whatever it is that I was supposed to be doing during the year that I spent in Journalism (also the same year that I had Sister Satan as a teacher.  Hmm), but I did learn that journalists are at least a little bit protected from lawsuits.  Even though McKenna's article was super long (because you've screwed up that many times), did he really write anything libelous?  Even though he went on...and on...and on, you only picked, like, three things to complain about and one of them was a cartoon where someone drew horns on your head.

Look, Dan, people aren't always going to agree with you; mostly it's because you make terrible decisions, but I feel like it's also a good, general life lesson to learn that maybe no one has ever taught you.  You also never learned that the worst way to get your city on your side is to SUE ONE OF ITS NEWSPAPERS.  Come on.  It's no secret that Redskins fans despise you for...just about everything.  Why are you even defending yourself?  Are you a businessman or a crybaby?

It's bad enough that Albert Haynesworth is still on the team and getting indicted for assault because of the whole sticking-money-in-a-waitress's-cleavage thing.  We don't need more bad publicity!  McKenna's article only became famous because you decided to sue; he wasn't saying anything different than anyone else in this town.  Your lawsuit has actually generated more bad publicity for you than his article ever could have.  So congratulations.  You win.  At being the biggest loser in sports.

Please sell the team, you freaking asshat,

Karen

Please Get Your Collective Act Together

Dear Redskins,

Yep.  ALL OF YOU.  I can't turn my back on you (and by "turn my back" I mean "drink my weight in wine and then some," not actually giving up on you clowns) for three months before you're causing trouble all over the place.  Every time I hear a new piece of news, I tell people, "I'm so going to write a letter to that guy!" but then another one of you gets into the biggest pickle of the off-season.  I am way too busy and important to keep track of all this, but I'm going to do my best to address what I can.

1.  Albert Haynesworth.  I'm mad at you.  Seriously.  Mostly I'm mad that I'm trying to write you this darn letter one-handed because I don't want to put down my wine glass (I'm over 21, don't judge me), but I'm also upset because of assault.  You've assaulted my eyes and my senses because I had to read this and this.  Come on, guy.  We've all felt murderous rage towards other motorists, but at least some of us are smart enough not to get caught.  As for the other thing, as a female and former waitress I can tell you in no uncertain terms that women don't want strange dudes putting fingers in their cleavage.  I PROMISE YOU.  Please stop.  Also, I shouldn't even be writing to you because you shouldn't be on the team anymore.  LEAVE.  You'd be too expensive even if you were performing well, which you aren't.  Suspension kind of leads to that.

2.  Brandon Banks.  What the eff, kid?  I'm not really a fashionista (though I know better than to wear a Canadian tuxedo), but I'm pretty sure that Stacy and Clinton have said that wearing white after Labor Day is A-okay in their books.  So, why, why, WHY would you start a fight with a be-knifed dude over his white-on-white outfit?  You do realize that the real police come to altercations, right?  The "fashion police" come to alterations.  And their existence is just a joke that I wish was totally and completely real (let's face it: if the fashion police existed, we'd be able to avoid Ed Hardy, Uggs, and websites that show horrific things like this).  I know how hurtful it is when people don't dress to impress--I GET IT.  But you know who isn't ever in the news for stabbing or being stabbed?  That's right, ME.  Learn it, love it, live it.

3.  Dan Snyder.  I'm so tired of you.  I understand that all you care about is money.  I mean, I understand that that's a thing that some people care about.  I care about it, too, when I'm hard on my luck and midgets little people appear in the King's castle and offer to spin a bunch of straw into gold so that I don't die or something.  But you know what I care about more than money?  WINNING.  Duh.  Guess what the Redskins have NOT been doing?  And do you know what doesn't help your image as one of the most inadequate owners in the NFL?  Suing journalists who call you one of the most inadequate owners in the NFL.  The only time in your entire tenure as owner that your worth went up was unfortunately when Sean Taylor (RIP #21) died.  Since I don't want any more star players to die, I have no idea how you're going to manage that feat again unless you start groveling to fans.  Maybe start with lowering the cost of stadium beer from $8 a cup to anything below that.  We're in a recession, after all, and I know how to sneak booze inside and drink for free.  Just saying.

4.  Clinton Portis.  I love you too much to include you with these guys.  When I drink enough again, you'll get your own letter.

Until then, Redskins, please get your collective act together.

Love,

Karen

Welcome to my Rex Grossman Nightmare

Dear Mike Shanahan,

It may surprise you to learn that I actually enjoy watching good football.  Every weekend during the greatest season next to Christmas, I spend about three hours watching a horrible, gut-wrenching game and then turn off the Redskins and watch a game (or two or three) where two better-than-mediocre teams come together and play their hardest.  Players catch balls, run for first downs, and kickers even make field goals.  It's beautiful and slightly enlarges my Grinch-sized black heart.  Only slightly, though, because we can't get too carried away.

Anyway, I'm a little slow because I'm only just starting to expect a Redskins loss every week.  Deep down in my aforementioned black heart, I truly thought that you wanted the team to win and that many of the players also wanted that.  Sure, a lot of them suck hardcore, but we still have a few gems who I look forward to watching, like Ryan Torain, Brandon Banks, London Fletcher, and DeAngelo Hall.  Do you know who is missing from that list?  REX GROSSMAN.

I know that Donovan McNabb isn't that great.  I wrote a lovely poem on Easter Sunday about how I didn't want him on our team, but everyone told me to give him a chance.  "He's better than Jason Campbell!" I heard.  Grudgingly, I decided to give McNabb a shot because he's our quarterback, though I'd like to point out that Campbell is ranked #20 for NFL quarterbacks and McNabb is at #25 (to be fair, though, Campbell would be much worse if he was still here.  I think that the NFL has given him extra points to make up for all his years of suffering at the hands of Dan Snyder).

So maybe whether McNabb or Campbell is better this season is up for argument, but are Redskins fans seriously supposed to believe that anyone other than Rex Grossman himself believes he is the right direction for the 'Skins to take?  I'd like to think that he's smart enough not to think that, either, but I'm probably wrong.

Ironically, since today is our game against the Cowboys, I feel like I'm watching an old episode of Dallas.  Just like Season Eight's "dream season" where not a single episode mattered, not a single Rex Grossman-led game for Washington will matter, either.  The hardest thing is knowing that Pam woke up from her horrible nightmare and I'm only starting mine.

Merry Christmas, Jerk,

Karen

P.S. Because of team loyalty, I will root for Rex Grossman to do well today.  And if he surprises the entire universe and succeeds today and into next season, I'll get a Grossman jersey.  I might have to scour my entire body after every time I wear it, but I'm willing to do it if it helps the Redskins win.

Still On The Team--For Now

Dear Graham Gano,

I generally catch a lot of flack for how I treat Redskins kickers in my letters which I've never understood because LOOK AT YOU GUYS.  I really thought that anyone was better than Shaun "Shortbus" Suisham as evidenced by my many poetic overtures saying that almost word for word, but you're forcing me to reconsider.  I don't appreciate being forced to do anything (just ask Redskins Dad how long I stood next to his chair, refusing to swallow a mouthful of green beans last week when I was a toddler--I dare ya) and I especially don't like thinking about Shaun Suisham, even for purposes of comparison.  It makes my tummy hurt.

But sometimes a girl has to get a hot cup of tea and some crackers and calm her stomach enough to make a few comparisons.  It's called taking one for the team, which you might be unfamiliar with because of how many field goals you miss on a weekly basis.  That's called not being a team player, jerk-who-I-hate.  Prior to today's game, you had missed nine of twenty-nine field goals, ranking you 36th in the NFL.  THIRTY-SIXTH!  THE NFL ONLY HAS THIRTY-TWO TEAMS!  Don't expect your ranking to get much better after today.

I'm also disappointed because your birthday is the day (and a few years) after mine and you were born in Scotland, which makes you seriously cooler than Shaun "I-hail-from-the-Great-White-North-eh?" Suisham.  Yeah, yeah, he sucked pretty badly and you'll never get me to say otherwise, but you're still worse because you're still on the team.  For now.

You've been (kind of) warned,

Karen