| Craig Johnson. 3rd January, 2006 - 7:08 pm
 Superstitions are involved in everyone’s everyday life. Some know it while others just simply call it a routine. As children growing up we tend to remember such days as, “Wacky Wednesday,” and “Freaky Friday.” But just about the time that you have reached your teens you start to worry about the superficial day of “Friday the 13th” and about leaving home to go to Summer camp, or not. Suddenly the woods that you once played in now seem to have faces on the trees that would scare even the fairy-taled fable of Hansel and Gretel. As a baseball player, every time I have a good game or pitch particularly well I always try to remember what sock I put on first, or what leg I put in my pants first, in hopes of repeating that performance. Many people will argue that baseball players are the most superstitious, but as a player and a fan I will argue that the Redskins fans and the Redskins players are even more superstitious.
Every week now since August 28th I have faithfully been saying, “This is the year! I just know it!” Meaning that this was the year that our 80 regular season games without a post-season appearance was going to change. Well, 16 games later and we are sitting in front of the same computer at 10-6 and not yet quite ready to write the year in review article. After week 2 in Dallas, every Thursday Clinton Portis started to show us why we desperately needed him so bad. He was bringing the fun back to Washington with his “Loony” costumes. The Skins players and fans hadn’t had something this exuberant to look forward to since the “Fun Bunch.” The weeks leading up to the San Francisco game many reporters were saying that Portis was in a slump, and while he feared them to question the lack of touchdowns he was putting up, Portis drew attention to his silly look. The shellacking that the Skins gave to the 49ers at home on October 23rd helped Portis shake the doubters with his 3-touchdown performance. Then desperately week after week with the Skins needing wins to keep their heads above water, Portis gave us such characters as, “Sheriff Gonna’ Get Ya’,” “Doctor Don’t Know,” and “Inspector 2-2.” Portis was keeping the mood just right for his teammates in what everyone knew was a critical time. Then last week on the Thursday before the Philly game I was just waiting for him to come out dressed as “Philly the Fleagle Flea,” with the notion to run all over that a*s. He out did himself by leading a pack of teammates (Ladell Betts, Ryan Clark, Chris Cooley, Robert Royal and Rock Cartwright), playing the part of “Southeast Jerome.” Today he now stands as the franchise leader for rushing yards in a single season after breaking Stephen Davis record that was set in 1996.
While Portis was pleasing his fans and showing the life of the Skins, fans everywhere were breathing in the great smell of winning. Back on December 4th my little cousin (Olivia Anderson) started a little superstition that has become a monumental pre-game ritual. The Skins were coming into St. Louis with 5-games left and knowing that they would need at least 4 of those games to keep hope alive. Olivia started yelling to myself and my other cousin David, not to take our hats off and to throw salt over our left shoulder to get the demons out of the way. I had seen a lot of things this season such as: A stunning come from behind win in Dallas, Clowns playing the part of referees in Tampa, The fat bearded lady came to town, and Voodoo dolls, so I figured anything can work now. Well, 5 wins later I must say that Olivia may want to invest in salt for all the salt that will be bought and spilled for these next few weeks. Can you imagine getting over 100,000 screaming die-hard Redskins fans tossing salt over their left shoulder? It would look like a snowstorm gone crazy. Wait, better yet. You know the circus hasn’t been around? No more smell of the peanut gallery or anyone sticking up for their fat bearded lady girlfriend. It almost smells like home. The home that rocked-and-rolled while the band played. The home that helped 3 Joe Gibbs coached teams win Super bowls.
Suddenly, I awake and here I am in the great RFK Stadium. My neck of the woods, the same woods I used to play in. Yet I am not afraid. These trees have faces on them, some alive and some are late greats like: Sonny and Sam, Joe and John, Charlie and Bobby, Jerry and The Slinging Sammy, Mark and Hayes, Wonsley and Washington. Some would say that there is something missing. I say, “48,600 grains of salt, my closet friends, something cold to drink and history in the making. What else could Washington fans want?”
It’s just a drift of memory bliss set on you.
In unrelated news in nearby Tallsmanville, West Virginia, crews struggle to find signs of life for the 13-trapped miners, I speak for all Washington fans, and “We wish the best for their families.” Hey Clint Port, how bout’ a costume for guys who risk their lives everyday?
This is the year! I just know it! Hail to the Redskins! Hail Victory! Braves on the warpath! Fight for old D.C.! Run or pass and score-We want a lot more! Beat em’, swamp em’, touchdown!- Let the points soar! Fight on, fight on till you have won, sons of Wash-ing-ton. Rah! Rah! Rah! Hail to the Redskins! Hail Victory! Braves on the warpath! Fight for old D.C.!
Craig Johnson may be reached at Myterps34@yahoo.com, and appreciates all responses and support!
This just in: Gregg Williams will sign for 3 more years as Joe Gibbs assistant and Defensive coordinator. I told you David. Maybe you should listen when I tell you about my inside source. |
