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

For Serious, Dude

Dear Joey Galloway,

Guess who has two thumbs and isn't sad to see you released?  THIS GIRL!  What will I not miss the most about you?  How you couldn't catch the effing football.  For serious, dude.  By the way, as established, you're super old, so don't you think that it's about time to shorten "Joey" to "Joe"?  You're not Sonny Jurgensen, for God's sakes; besides, it's not like we can call him "Son Jurgensen."  It just won't work.

Anyway, I'm gonna get back to watching this game, but I just wanted to tell you to retire like you should have done a few years ago--or go play for the Cowboys.  Whichever.

Peace out, cub scout,

Karen

Let's All Vote NO Today

Dear Mike Shanahan,

Question:  Does Karen think that bringing JaMarcus Russell to Washington, DC to do anything more strenuous than lift a cup of Purple Drank a good idea?  Answer:  No!  No, no, NO! A million times NO!

I'm confused because I'm pretty sure that April Fools' Day is on April 1st every year and it never ever falls on November 2nd, but is there any other explanation for this atrocity?!  I know that Donovan McNabb hasn't been the best quarterback that the Redskins have ever seen, but he's kind of the best that we've seen in a long time (sorry, Jason Campbell, but I'm not going to lie).  He had that 45-yard run which was pretty sweet, you gotta admit.  Right?  Right?  So why are you having Russell practice with the team?  WHY?!

Hamstring issues aside, you can't possibly think that JaMarcus Russell is better than McNabb.  It just doesn't make sense.  The Oakland Raiders cut him!  They think that Jason Campbell is a better player than Russell (again, sorry, Jason)!!!  Even allowing that the Raiders suck and don't really know how to build a team anymore, isn't it likely that they know to drop the deadest of the dead weights (if it's unclear, I'm saying that Russell is that weight).  I'll even take Rex Grossman over Russell and we all saw what he did on Sunday--and it wasn't pretty.

Haven't you punished us enough with Joey "Wait-you-want-me-to-catch-the-ball?" Galloway and Stephon "I-got-your-penalties-right-here" Heyer?  Why must you threaten us with Mr. Purple Drank himself?

Voting NO on Russell this Election Day,

Karen

What, What, What Are You Doing?

Dear Mike Shanahan,

What are you doing?  What, what, what are you doing?  I've decided that you are the one to blame for what is now the Redskins' biggest problem because you're head coach.  For years, the biggest problem has been not converting on third downs, but I hereby proclaim that this is no longer true because NO ONE CAN FREAKING CATCH A FOOTBALL.

First, Carlos Rogers couldn't catch, but no one really expected him to suddenly start doing his job, so this wasn't enough to elevate the issue to Threat Level Orange.  But then it wasn't just him.  Everyone started missing catches and dropping balls until I had to seriously consider the possibility that all the players' bodies have been inhabited by football-repelling aliens.  I'm still deliberating.

At least the offense used to be able to catch, but Donovan McNabb insists on throwing a few balls towards Joey Galloway whose motto should be, "Don't throw the ball to me; I'm not even supposed to be here!" because he's not supposed to be there.  He should be sitting at home, watching the game on TV beneath a crocheted blanket, muttering to anyone who walks through the room that he could play better than "those young whippersnappers."  Because he's old.  Did you all catch that?

Anyway, Mike Shanahan, please fix this.  Immediately.  Santana Moss isn't sucking completely, so maybe get McNabb to keep throwing his way.  After this game, please work on catching drills--and I don't mean drills where the players practice catching the football.  I want them to literally have to catch power drills and the like (chainsaws, hammers, wrenches, and ballistic missiles are also acceptable).  They're never going to get better if you baby them.

Now I'm going to go back to watching the game.  You may resume coaching.  If you can call it that.

Love Kinda like,

Karen

Their Own Personal Meat Market

Dear Clinton Portis,

Sometimes, dear sir, you really need to keep your mouth shut.  I've written to you about this before, but I didn't really care about your feelings regarding Jim Zorn.  I do care about your insulting remarks about women reporters, though, because I'm a woman and, as such, I'm appalled that you didn't get it right.  To refresh your sporadically concussed memory, a female sports reporter, Ines Sainz, is complaining that New York Jets players sexually harassed her.  When apprised of the situation, you had some choice words that irritated me.  Let's break it down together, shall we?

"You know man, I think you put women reporters in the locker room in positions to see guys walking around naked, and you sit in the locker room with 53 guys, and all of the sudden you see a nice woman in the locker room, I think men are gonna tend to turn and look and want to say something to that woman. For the woman, I think they make it so much that you can't interact and you can't be involved with athletes, you can't talk to these guys, you can't interact with these guys.

"And I mean, you put a woman and you give her a choice of 53 athletes, somebody got to be appealing to her. You know, somebody got to spark her interest, or she's gonna want somebody. I don't know what kind of woman won't, if you get to go and look at 53 men's packages. And you're just sitting here, saying 'Oh, none of this is attractive to me.' I know you're doing a job, but at the same time, the same way I'm gonna cut my eye if I see somebody worth talking to, I'm sure they do the same thing." (Transcript courtesy of D.C. Sports Blog's Dan Steinberg)

Problem 1: You didn't even mention how women shouldn't be allowed in the locker room in the first place because they have no right to take jobs that belong to men.

Problem 2: Um, hello?  These women need to be reminded that it's really hard for them to cook your dinner if they're not at home in the kitchen.  Where was that comment, Portis?

Problem 3: Where's the fact that women who walk into a room full of naked men are clearly on the prowl?  Don't be kind and give them the benefit of the doubt by saying "I know you're doing a job," because if they're actually good at their jobs, they can arrange for interviews outside the locker room with fully clothed players.  These female reporters are treating you poor men like their own personal meat market and I don't think that you should stand for it any longer.

Problem 4: Why didn't you question who these women slept with to even get into the locker room in the first place?  Affirmative action can get them into the stadium, but that's not enough to get past security.  If you know what I am saying.

Problem 5: Maybe it's because you're a guy and guys don't pay attention to fashion, but you didn't even wonder what Sainz was wearing on the alleged day of harassment?  Granny sweater and mom jeans = no harassment allowed, but anything-that-makes-it-evident-that-she's-a-woman?  That's like giving someone a Freedom to Harass card (Ben Roethlisberger approved) and men and women everywhere should know this and respect it.

Problem 6: Too much implication and too few direct statements.  I want you to say definitively for the record that any female (reporter or not) who walks into a room and gets to see fifty-three male "packages" is a damn liar if she denies finding at least one that's attractive.  And not only is she a liar, but she's also being spiteful for dragging down the fragile egos of those poor men.  Come on, women!  Show some respect and let these men know that the only reason why you wanted to be a sports reporter was to ogle their goodies!

Problem 7: While you're at it, ask when it became a crime to give a woman a compliment?  If she feels dirty afterward, that's her problem, not yours.  And she probably has daddy issues.  Or low self-esteem.  Or too high self-esteem.  OOH!  Maybe she was on her period.  Women are such witches during their time of the month (except for me--I'm still a delight and I'll cut anyone who suggests otherwise).

Problem 8:  Other topics regarding female reporters that you didn't address but should have: their dumb questions, how they turn everything to some story starring themselves (this girl at my work is always doing that and it's so freaking annoying to everyone*), how none of them really know anything about sports, how they cry all the time, how they don't know when not to put a drunk on live television (I'm looking at you, Suzy Kolber); you really missed the boat, Portis, and I expect someone with a name like Clinton to have a little more knowledge of women than you showed the other day.

Severely disappointed in you,

Karen (Who is on Her Way Back to the Kitchen Immediately and Deserves to be Slapped if Dinner isn't Served at 5:00pm on the Dot)

P.S.  For homework, please watch these prime examples of women failing at being sports reporters

*the girl is me

Snyder and Jones, BFFs 4 Lyfe!

Dear Dan Snyder,

You really had me fooled.  I knew that you were a jerk and bad at being an owner, but I thought that all of your missteps and attempts to stuff cash into the holes of a sinking ship were done out of blind love of the Washington Redskins.  "Of course I hate him," I'd say in confidential tones to friends, family, and strangers on the Metro, "and of course I'd rather have anyone else as an owner, but at least he loves the team.  It's a lot like the love of a toddler for a pet that he will squeeze until its eyes bug out or it dies, but it's still love."

Love?  I scoff at the word.  An owner who loved his team would not pal around with the enemy.  That's right, we know that you and Dallas Cowboys' owner, Jerry Jones, are BFFs 4 lyfe.  I bet that you even have a photo of the two of you in a frame on your desk that says it.  I can excuse the Papa John's commercial, mostly because of my great love for Papa John's pizza (seriously, Papa John, if you read this I'll trade my first born child for a lifetime supply of your pizza...or even a months' supply), but you couldn't just keep it to friendly, tongue-in-cheek commercials with the Redskins' arch-nemesis, could you?  It's a rhetorical question, but I'll go ahead and answer it for you just in case you're a bit slow--NOPE, you couldn't just keep it there.

When I stopped by Redskins Parents' house this morning to eat Redskin Brother's stale popcorn and help rid Redskins Dad of a Corona Light (okay, it was more like 1:30pm, but that's still morning for me on the weekends), I felt figuratively warm all over because the family was watching football together already.  I had no warning of the upset that I would soon receive.  As everyone complained that I hadn't written any letters recently and they were surely going to start a hunger strike soon in hopes that I would bless them with something new*, I said that I was looking for inspiration.  I picked up the Washington Post in hopes of finding something that would inspire me, but all I saw was Donovan McNabb's advertisement for Capital One.  He was supposed to look confused because he's new in town, but I think that he was confused because he was in an ad without Campbell's Chunky Soup in his hands or his mommy by his side.  (Is she going to lace up your sneakers tonight, too, Donovan?).

Anyway, I lacked inspiration and Redskins Brother gave it to me when he told me about THIS interview:




That's right, Danny boy, you can't hide from the truth: your family vacations with Jerry Jones' family.  This is like Harry Potter and Voldemort hanging out and laughing about how they try to kill each other five months out of the year, but during the off-season they like to go to Boca and argue good-naturedly about whose turn it is to serve the mimosas.  Actually, that's probably an unfair comparison because Harry Potter has some good qualities and actually has some reasons to be an angsty teen whereas you are far too old to be a teenager.  And I'm waiting on the good qualities.

But seriously, Jerry Jones?!  It was bad enough watching you look up at him with that sickening puppy-dog look of adoration on your face during the interview, but hearing Jones blather on about how he's so surprised that the Redskins haven't won a Super Bowl under your reign of terror was like eating one insult after another.  Of all the owners in the entire league, you had to choose the only jerk as big as you as a mentor.  In fact, if I were faced with the choice of you or him as the owner of the Washington Redskins, I think that my mind would implode and I'd stand in place until someone rescued me.  Hopefully someone with ice cream...or Papa John's.

The jig is up.  You don't love the Redskins; in fact, I think that your friendship with Jerry Jones proves that you're probably working against the Redskins from within.  After all, who cares if you lose every season if the fans keep coming back game after game and paying $8 for a Bud Light?  You suck.

Go Redskins!  Beat Dallas!

Karen

*I'm lying.  They did not do this.

Redskin Letters Is YouTubing It

Dear Redskin Fans,

Today's a big day, folks.  Redskins Brother and I attempted the Redskins conditioning test that Albert Haynesworth finally passed today.  We had, uh...mixed results.  But the great news is that you all get to see for yourselves.  That's right--Redskin Letters has graduated to video.  Please excuse the major suckage in the video editing because this is my first try at making a movie since Anti-Redskins Best Friend and I created "Grammar in the City" back in college.  Also, please excuse the major suckage in the content of the video.  Um, spoiler alert?





So there you have it.  Albert Haynesworth is better at passing a conditioning test than Redskins Brother and I.  I'm appropriately ashamed of myself.

But does Haynesworth know how to write a letter?  Or make a YouTube video?  Yeah, I didn't think so.

Love,

Karen

Don't Even Try To Sit On Me

Dear Albert Haynesworth,

Washington, DC is all abuzz with the news that you want to be traded from the Redskins.  Well, whoopty-doo.  Guess what, Al?  We want to get rid of you, too.  In fact, many of us haven't been pleased with you since...oh, when you were signed for a $100 million contract.  You wouldn't have been worth that insane amount of cash even if you had stayed healthy and hadn't had to sit out to regain your precious breath after every play where you actually did something worthwhile for once; you definitely weren't worth $55,000 per snap.  You weren't worth one of my addicting butterscotch cookies per snap and I give those babies out like they're...well...cookies.  Or babies.

Since you seem to be completely uninterested in anything awesome pertaining to the Redskins, you may be unaware that this is my slow time when it comes to writing letters, but here I am anyway, popping up to let you know that you're a tool and not even a very good one.  You're like an electric drill that stops working when the batteries die, when all anyone really needs is a screwdriver.  Or a broken escalator when people just need stairs.  Or Jay Leno when everyone under the age of sixty-five just wants Conan O'Brien.

In conclusion, you suck.  Don't let the stadium doors hit you on your fat behind on the way out--if you can walk out under your own power without stopping for a hit off an oxygen tank first.

Looking forward to getting money back for any other player ever (besides Tony Romo),

Karen

P.S.  Don't even try to sit on me.  I've been working out and I can outrun you!

I Can't Believe That Jesus Died For This

Dear Donovan McNabb,

Thanks for ruining my Easter, jerkface.  I wanted to find the best possible way to let you know my true feelings about you becoming a Redskin, but I simply don't have the time to drive up to Philadelphia and nail my version of Martin Luther's "95 Theses" to your door.  Do you know what I do have time for, though?  That's right, a poem.  Because that's how I roll, sucker.

Once upon a time in the land of D.C.
Redskins fans everywhere had the same dream
That Shanahan and Allen wouldn't ruin our season
But what they've done seems more like treason

Sure, we might be lacking in the quarterback position
But it doesn't excuse this terrible decision
The only players who are worse than Donovan McNabb
Are probably just the ones that we already have

Signing Rex Grossman was a horrible call
But trading for McNabb is the worst one of all
The only thing that could make me sicker
Is getting Shaun Suisham back as our kicker

Who in Hell wants McNabb on their team?
(Obviously, I'm angered to the extreme)
His past performance is not that of legends
Why should we take Philly's sloppy seconds?

I wish that I had a hot tub time machine
To go back to Coach Gibbs and the 1980s
And forget this Easter and everything gone amiss
Because I can't believe that Jesus died for this.

Happy Stinkin' Easter,

Karen

My Children Are Going to be Winners

Greetings Redskins Nation!

I'm sure that you've been wondering where I've been amidst the end of the season, the playoffs, the firing of Jim Zorn, the hiring of Mike Shanahan, and free agency.  Let's just say that I've been biding my time, getting the lay of the land, and figuring out if being a fan of George Allen on Facebook will help me get free tickets from his brother, Bruce (verdict:  so far, not really.  But I have high hopes for when the season starts).

Anyway, I apologize for being away (well, on my couch watching the Disney Channel and TeenNick--shut up, don't act like you're too good for the wholesome hijinx on iCarly and Sonny with a Chance) just when you all need a guiding light to help you through yet another harrowing rebuilding year.  But cheer up!  I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere (unless someone has Girl Scout cookies.  I'll go anywhere for Thin Mints--except Dallas.  NEVER THERE).  But I can't cover everything that I need to cover in long, thoughtful detail, so I'm just gonna go with what we in the blogging Redskins Letter Writing business call "snippets."  Do you hear that, Redskins fans?  It's a contented sigh coming from all of you.  Well, you're welcome.

Let's get started:

Jim Zorn was fired and is now a Quarterbacks Coach again, this time for the Baltimore Ravens.  This is like being demoted twice in a row.  In fact, if I was him, I'd rather retire than take two steps back.  He could then open up a camp for boys with mediocre dreams of one day being fired as a professional head football coach.  I mean, I would never send MY children there (my children are going to be winners), but maybe he'll have better luck with Andy Reid's sons.

And Mike Shanahan is now our coach.  Despite his very Irish name and appearance, this guy doesn't fit my vision of your friendly neighborhood drunk lying in a ditch.  This disappoints me as I have very specific requirements out of my stereotypical Irishmen, especially this close to St. Patrick's Day.  What he has going for him aside from an ability to "spot the blarney," is that he doesn't seem to be taking crap from Dan Snyder yet.  We'll see how this continues, but I'm going to go out on a huge limb and speculate that his hiring might not be the worst thing that's ever happened to us.

Bruce Allen as GM.  Well, I really didn't realize that there were other Allens besides George the coach and George the former Governor and Senator, but I'm willing to accept one more Allen into my life.  Don't screw up, Bruce.  We wouldn't want the macaca to hit the fan.

Recent layoffs of Smoot, Cartwright, Randle El, etc.  Thank God that Randle El is gone.  I mean, he seemed like a friendly guy, but he was a little too friendly to other teams.  That's the only explanation for all the fair catches that I can make up; he probably just wanted to be "fair" to the other team.  Somewhere after our fifth loss I would have hoped that he'd get over that.  He didn't.  So long, Fair Catch.

Backtracking to Christmas.  I was privileged to receive not one, but TWO awesome Redskins-centric gifts!  The first was a Secret Santa gift from my friend, Mollie (Thanks, Mollie!  And congrats to Doug on your acceptance of his proposal!).  Please note that it has Clinton Portis' number and my nickname, Good Karen, on the back.  It's kind of like I'm on the team, but without any of the broken ribs, Snyder butt-kissing, or uncomfortable jockstraps!  Yay!

The second gift was from Redskins Brother.  He told me that it was going to be my favorite gift and I shouldn't have been so doubtful because he is a surprisingly good gift-giver.  When I neatly removed the wrapping paper (yeah, I'm one of THOSE people even though it's going directly into a trash bag) and saw Joe Gibbs' book, I was like, "...um...yay?" I mean, I adore Saint Joe, OF COURSE, but Santa Claus had already brought me a 100-pack of Slim Jims and I didn't see how this book could possibly be my favorite gift after that.

Then Redskins Brother told me to look inside.  Yeah, that's right, everyone!  Personalized autograph by Saint Joe himself!  And he wrote in INK that he wants God to bless ME!  ME!  Muahhahhahahah!  Obviously a "God bless" from Saint Joe pwns Slim Jims all over the place!  Thanks, Redskins Brother!  And sorry about that time that I complained that you were the worst brother in the world!  Sometimes I'm mean!

I've lost my pink Redskins snow hat and I'm pretty bummed about it.  I mean, it's probably in my house somewhere, but unless it's in my sofa cushions, I'm probably never going to find it.

I'm thinking of getting a fish.  It might teach me some responsibility.  If it doesn't, the toilet is just a flush away.

Yeah, not completely joking about that.

How is a fish related to the Redskins?  Well, it isn't.  Unless I name it after one of them.  Maybe I could get two and one could be Shaun Suishfinn.  Then I'd train the other one, Clinton Portfish, to attack and kill him.  Or Salmonta Moss?  Ha! (Clearly I'm a bit rusty because of my absence).

As far as Byron Westbrook and Chad Rinehart are concerned...well, what the heck, guys?!  Do you think that you play for the Cowboys or something?

Sigh.  We're in for a long off-season.

Love,

Karen