Papa's Basement

Well, it’s official: after giving yet another winless team their first W, the Redskins are the NFL equivalent of the chubby girl in the neighborhood that everyone loses their virginity to “just to get it out of the way.” So I’m spending each Sunday rooting for a fat chick. Fuck.

Ever since giving up on this season after the Redskins’ loss to Detroit, I’m starting to take a certain perverse delight in watching them play poorly against other really weak teams. Though I never have seen the Bumfights series, I can only assume that a Skins game now provides the same sort of thrill. For those of you not familiar with Bumfights, it consists of filmed combat between two parties that are without proper training, competent guidance and have no hope for their future. Short of the lack of jerseys and the fact that I don’t think Santana Moss would go down on me for a bottle of MD 20/20, the parallels are pretty evident.

Which isn’t to say I’ve completely entered some Zen state where I’m okay with the Redskins finding new ways to give up their collective chocolate donut. Because I haven’t. There are still a few things I find myself getting worked up about. For example, every time Albert Haynesworth’s fat Baby Huey-ass gets a skinned knee and comes out for a play, we’re treated to every tier-two announcer who’s been condemned by FOX to covering a Skins game, eagerly killing 60 seconds by talking about his massive contract and “will the Redskins get their money’s worth?” The answer is, “Hell no, they won’t get their money’s worth.” Nor do they deserve it. No one likes playing for the Redskins, they just do it for the pay. That’s like asking a hooker to not only ride you but pretend she isn’t disgusted doing it. Greedy, man. Greedy.

The most depressing thing by far, though, is having to watch Jim Zorn standing on that sideline, looking completely befuddled and in over his head. Does he even make it to the bye week at this point? I mean as long as the FOX crews are looking for something to pass their time with, could they CGI in a few vultures circling above him? The odds of him making it to the end of the season are slimmer than that girl in the red coat living through the end of Schindler’s List.

Dan Snyder went out this week and hired the retired Sherman Lewis as an “offensive consultant” who is to act as a “second set of eyes” around the locker room and find out why Jim Zorn’s offense hasn’t been working. Because that’s not completely emasculating. The balls on that treacherous midget. That’s like having your wife hire Peter North as a “sexual consultant” to act as a “second set of genitalia” in the bedroom to find out why you can’t get her off. Sounds great. Sign me up. There’s nothing wrong with that arrangement whatsoever. Hell, maybe ol’ Pete will take the time to sign a few of my DVDs on my way out the door.

I will leave you with a (paraphrased) quote from The Shawshank Redemption, a movie that I’m sure has had a special resonance with Jim Zorn ever since he took over as coach of the Redskins:

[In my best Morgan Freeman voice] I wish I could tell you that Jim Zorn fought the good fight, and the Snyder let him be. I wish I could tell you that – but the NFL is no fairy-tale world. He never said who did it, but we all knew. Things went on like that for awhile – NFL life consists of routine, and then more routine. Every so often, Jim Zorn would show up with fresh bruises. The Snyder kept at him – sometimes he was able to fight him off, sometimes not. And that’s how it went for Jim Zorn – that was his routine.