[WARNING: I will be using the term “R-Words” throughout this article because I have no idea what’s right anymore]
Extra large R-Words defensive tackle Chris Baker stood pat. He had done his job, caused pressure to the quarterback, and now was awaiting the result of Nick Foles’ downfield pass.
[WARNING: I will be using the term “R-Words” throughout this article because I have no idea what’s right anymore]
Extra large R-Words defensive tackle Chris Baker stood pat. He had done his job, caused pressure to the quarterback, and now was awaiting the result of Nick Foles’ downfield pass. It was the beginning of the fourth quarter in a tight shootout, tied at 27. Nick Foles had thrown two touchdowns so far. Kirk Cousins had thrown three.
“Really proud of Kirk today, man,” Baker said to Foles as the ball still hung in the air. Both of them squinted, catching their breath.
“You know there are lot of parallels between us,” Foles responded.
“Sure,” said Baker, “I know you guys were both back-ups at Michigan State together.”
“Before I transferred,” said Foles. “I look back on those days fondly. We also both took over for injured quarterbacks.”
“I guess that’s true,” said Baker pensively. “And RGIII and Vick are both…”
Baker and Foles looked at each other, ready to finish the thought in unison.
“Running quarterbacks,” said Baker.
“Black,” said Foles.
Baker stared at Foles menacingly and balled his hands into fists. Foles backed away from the large man, hands raised to self-protect.
“I’m just playing with you, Foles,” said Baker, cracking a smile.
“Good,” he said, “I thought you were going to drop me for a second there.”
Foles continued: “I just wish all of your success today was going to last.”
“What do you mean?” Baker said, his head tilted. The crowd erupted and there was some commotion downfield. It was coming toward them with all the makings of a stampede.
“I just mean,” Foles said, raising his voice over the uproar, “you guys always mess things up. Since Dan Snyder took over, there’s, I don’t know. It’s like your organization is possessed.”
Chris Baker let it sink in.
“No,” he said almost to himself, shaking his head. “This time it’s different. Boss said so. We have a bright future.”
“I’m sorry, Chris Baker,” said Foles with the utmost bedside manner. He might as well have had Baker’s hand in his. “You don’t. You’re the R**skins.”
Foles turned his head to the oncoming ballyhoo, and started to jog toward it out of curiosity. Baker was seething, his breaths growing deeper.
“We have,” Baker turned and saw no one was looking, “a bright future!” He ran and drove his shoulder into Nick Foles with all his might, dropping him to the ground.
Then it was bedlam.
“He’s right!” Eagles offensive tackle Jason Peters shouted as he attacked Baker. “Look at how you handled the RGIII injury in 2012! You’ll keep the wrong guy, I’m sure of it!”
Eagles players came to Foles’ and Peters’ aid, while R-Words players stormed onto the scene, doing the same for Baker. Everyone was shouting at each other as they shoved and jawed. The brawl moved like a cloud onto the R-Words sideline.
“We do too have a bright future!” yelled Chris Baker, grabbing Peters’ face mask and dragging him around like a cat on a hardwood floor.
“Kirk Cousins fits better in our system!” said an R-Words player.
“Of course he does!” retorted a Philadelphia player, taking his helmet off in a fit of rage. “But do you really think Snyder will choose him over RGIII, on whom he spent so much?!”
“We do have a bright future!”
“No, you don’t!”
“No, you don’t, not with Cousins under center!” screamed a new voice.
All of a sudden, several R-Words players intermittently shouted, “ouch!” and grabbed at their ankles. Something metal was whacking them at the bottom of the pile.
“RGIII will be back in five to six weeks. You need to put him back in!” shouted the same new voice.
Several players in the ruckus all of sudden noticed an Eagles player wearing a number 10 jersey. They were confused when they saw the word, “Jackson,” on the back.
“DeSean?” said one of them.
“Nope!” said DeSean Jackson ten feet away in his Washington gear, shoving an Eagles cornerback in the face mask, “I’m over here.”
“If you’re there, then who…” said an R-Words player, “Ouch!” He grabbed at his ankle.
The referees finally made it to the center of the pile, yellow flags flying like they were in the middle of a Pittsburgh Steelers crowd. The players got distracted by the striped men’s appearance. After the fight cooled down, they looked around to see who the masked DeSean Jackson impersonator was. They saw no one.
Just then, even over the crowd, there was what sounded like a cackling laughter. All the players’ heads swiveled as they tried to pinpoint the maniacal sound. Several of the players later said they saw a shirtless fan writhing on the field near the locker room entrance, clutching his ankles, and DeSean Jackson in a Philadelphia uniform sprinting off the field in the direction of the locker room, as fast as his crutches would allow him.
After game one of this week’s NFC East gauntlet, the R-Words have revealed several truths about themselves. The first and maybe most important of them is that there is no such thing as truth. We thought that playing a good team would reveal if the R-Words were any good. It did, and then it didn’t.
R-Words fans are unlike most fans in that they are romantics. When a romantic goes on a first or second date, he or she finds themselves dreaming down the line. Will he be a good father to my children? How would I feel if I saw her coming down the aisle on my wedding day? If he curses out the waiter at a restaurant on a first date, will he curse me out after 15 years of marriage? And just like a romantic, the worst thing for R-Words fans is to have too much time to dream about that next date. This is why the R-Words always win the off-season. This is why we would have said yes to Kirk Cousins if he had finally grown up and proposed last week. This is why everyone needs to hear this statement and repeat it to themselves for the rest of their lives: there is no perfect quarterback.
R-Words fans are always looking at the great quarterbacks in the league with wild jealousy, not considering that Peyton Manning and Tom Brady have both lost multiple Super Bowls, that Eli Manning and Ben Roethlisberger have put their fans through a decade of agony as they squeezed out Super Bowl rings, and that Russell Wilson, while living the life we all thought RGIII would be, won a Super Bowl because he was accompanied by a great running game and an even greater defense. Stop wishing every quarterback was Ryan Gosling and realize that the good guy with issues in front of you might be the one to hitch your wagon to. Whether that’s Captain Kirk or RGIII, we still don’t know. R-Words fans find themselves caught up in one of those teenybopper romances that are so popular now where there are two strapping men to choose from. We are Bella choosing between Edward and Jacob, Katniss eeny-meeny-miney-moe-ing between Peeta and Gale. All we really know at this point is that RGIII is clearly Peeta in this comparison, who hurt his leg in the first Hunger Games. Let’s all pray for the robotic leg to make an appearance by the end of this season. Imagine a quarterback controversy when one of the quarterbacks is a cyborg. The R-Words are always on the cutting edge of failure and controversy; why not?
Reasons for Hope (Poison)
What looked like a strong showing from the R-Words really only had a few bright spots. Roy Helu Jr. is awesome, as he’s always been. The Washington defensive line is showing they deserve to be reckoned with. The fight was awesome. I’m calling it now: Garcon and Jackson are, hands down, the two best wide receivers Washington has ever had. No offense to Monk, Clark, and Taylor, but none of them have the combination of hands and big play ability that Garcon and Jackson have. In a sinister way, just as the R-Words, as an evil metaphysical presence out to harm its fans, has foreseen it, having great receivers makes it really hard to see how good a quarterback is, making the controversy that much more confusing. Try asking anyone how good Matt Stafford really is. No one knows.
Captain Kirk made a strong case for our hearts against Philadelphia. His balls were on the money. His head was on a swivel. He threw for three touchdowns and 427 yards. RGIII has never thrown for 400 yards in his career. Kirk did it in his fifth start. He was decisive, athletic, accurate, and his deep ball, dipped in sweet revenge, to DeSean Jackson was possibly the prettiest deep ball an R-Word quarterback has thrown in the Dan Snyder era. Unfortunately, most of this clinic was put on in the first three quarters.
Reasons for Depression
Captain Kirk lost the game. As we all feared, when the game was on the line, he dropped a Captain’s log. First, he threw an interception with under eight minutes to go. This is what gave Philly that seemingly insurmountable ten point lead, as they converted the turnover into a field goal. Then, R-Words fans watched, like giddy school boys, as the best case scenario they had all worked out in their heads, down ten points with under six minutes to go, came to fruition. Quick score. Three and out. Then a two minute drill to win or tie. We always think this, even in the dark days, don’t we? Helu turned a mild-mannered screen pass into a 55 yard scamper (I love it when commentators say that) into the red zone, which he single-handedly took in for a score two plays later. Then the Washington defense forced a three and out. It’s all happening! Washington fans thought.
Philly (or the R-Words; hard to tell anymore) then took icing and drizzled it all over our cake with a stinker of a punt, giving the R-Words offense the ball at the Philly 41, down three, with over two minutes to go. Surely, the Captain, who had sizzled his way through the game, will be able to gain ten measly yards to put them in field goal range, if not score to win, right?
There is no perfect quarterback. There is no perfect quarterback.
The most brilliant move by the villainous R-Words was the season-ending injury to DeAngelo Hall. It was snuck in like the disease contracting scenes in Contagion and Outbreak. This is the sleeper for the single contributing factor to a lost season. It was the touching of a knob or a wine glass. The pro bowl cornerback was playing his best ball in the twilight of his career, and was the leader and only reliable player in a young, but still shoddy secondary. Now, it’s up to 2nd year corner David Amerson, E.J. Biggers, and 4th round pick Bashaud Breeland, to cover the freaks of the NFL.
The most important takeaway from the loss in Philly is that the R-Words did actually look like an NFL team. This is important because fans can actually hope that Jay Gruden is a decent coach; fans can stop being jealous of all other NFL games looking like more fun; and wives should know up front that if this continues, their husbands will be incorrigible for the rest of the season. When the R-Words are competitive, games are so much more emotionally charged. Unfortunately, in the case of the R-Words, this makes the fall a season of bi-polarity, if not just run-of-the-mill mild depression.
A short week brings another NFC East rival on Thursday night, this time in Washington. The Giants are following a similar storyline as the R-Words, a 1-2 record with a suspicious resurgence under way.
Will Cousins redeem himself?
Will the special teams stop giving up touchdowns, seriously?
Will the running game be the star of the offense again, like it’s supposed to be?
Will RGIII really return in five to six weeks? That cyborg leg will be hard to say no to, won’t it, Dan Snyder? Who knew there would be another part of R-Words fans’ bodies to sell merchandise to?