lcharles
Negativity King
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Here is a little humor I found at Extremeskins.....
Enjoy.
I don’t ever remember Lucy kicking Charlie Brown in the nuts.
For years, I’ve tried to describe that being a Commanders fan is much like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football from Lucy’s hold. In the analogy, I’m Charlie Brown and the Commanders are Lucy. I know she’s going to pull the ball away at the last second, she knows that she’s going to pull the ball away at the last second, and we both know that I’m going to wind up flat on my back, a little hurt and very embarrassed. The rest of the kids (other NFL fans, my friends and family) will all watch and either revel in my misery or offer some form of pity. But much like Charlie, I keep convincing myself that this time, she’s going to finally let me make contact. Year after year, and week after week, I take a running start, gear up for my big kick, and wind up flailing in the wind before having the wind knocked out me from falling on the hard ground.
But Lucy has never been this cruel. She never walked over to Charlie while he was down and stomped on his gonads. She never took the ball and slammed him in his cojones. She never did a flying leap off the top turnbuckle and aimed for his family jewels. But that’s what the Commanders did to me this past Sunday by losing to the Lions and forever etching themselves in NFL lore as an answer to a trivia question: Which team did the Lions beat to end their 19 game losing streak? The Commanders of course…..
Funny thing is that I saw this coming. Not in the preseason, not after a week one loss to the Giants, and not even after we looked awful in week two, just surviving the lowly Rams. I saw this coming back in April when the NFL schedule was released. I noticed we played the Lions in week two…I noticed they played the Saints and the Vikings to start the year….I figured they’d lose those two…..I figured they wouldn’t lose them all….I figured we might be in trouble. Six months later, the shot to the groin arrived, but despite the preparation, it still hurt. Bad.
There is a silver lining to all of this. I think the Lions crotch-shot may have been a death blow for me. I’ve got nothing left. My tank is empty. I’m out of white flags. Me, and all of my parts, are numb.
I just have a few final words for certain members of the Commanders organization:
Clinton Portis: Thanks for playing as hard on Sundays as anyone I’ve ever seen, but this “Clinton Portis can’t do it all by himself” act is very, very tired. The pouting has grown old. The constant criticism of coaches and teammates while deflecting any accountability yourself is lost on me. Joe Gibbs made you a cornerstone of his rebuilding process, and for the most part, you delivered. Overall, I have good memories of you as a Commander. But I’m ready for you to leave. Sounds like you might be ready to leave as well. Goodbye. And oh yeah, one reason our offense lacks explosion and big plays is because you have zero ability left to break big runs.
Jason Campbell: Five years later, and I still don’t know what to make of you. I think you’ve suffered from poor coaching and constant changes. I don’t think your coaches have shown much faith in you. You’ve been a good soldier through the media and everyone says you are an extremely likeable guy and a hard worker. But sometimes, if you want to make your way in this league or in this world, you’ve got to make your own opportunities. Even with some of the handicaps you’ve been dealt, there have been chances for you—chances that you have yet to seize. I still think there is hope for you, but I’m not sure if it can happen in Washington—we may need a stronger presence at such an important position.
Deangelo Hall: Congratulations on getting two dysfunctional organizations to pay you ridiculous money in a two-year span. It took the Raiders half a season to figure out they made a gigantic error—not quite sure if the Commanders are ready to admit it as well, but they should. You are a decent player, but certainly not worth the dough or the trouble. In many ways (and this is not your fault) you are a symbol of all that is wrong with the Commanders. The organization allows homegrown players like Antonio Pierce and Ryan Clark to walk, while vastly overpaying for the services of bigger names. Not only does it hurt the team cap-wise in the long run, it also advances a culture of inconsistency and makes team unity and the like much more difficult to attain.
Chris Samuels: I’m so sorry. You’ve been an amazing player for us both on and off the field. An absolute gem of a draft pick, you’ve done everything that’s ever been asked of you. If you played for the Patriots, Cowboys, or Giants people would be talking about your Hall of Fame credentials. You’ve been a bright spot in this land of darkness. For your sake, I hope that someday, you get to experience being a champion—because you deserve it.
Vinny Cerrato: You’re not as bad as some make you out to be, but that’s not saying much. If nothing else, the perception of you as a lackey for your boss hurts our rep around the league. No one takes you seriously. It wasn’t so bad when you were just a glorified racquetball buddy for Danny, but now that you have actual power, you are getting exposed. You seem like a nice guy, and your performance in “Kindegarten Ninja” wasn’t too bad. I’d actually suggest a return to Hollywood—probably a better fit for you.
Jim Zorn: It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that you weren’t ready to be a head coach in the NFL. It’s not your fault that Danny and Vinny “saw something” in you. I can actually see what they saw—you are an engaging personality and I do think you have some fight and grit inside of you. I do think you have a certain toughness and confidence that I like, but ultimately, you are in over your head. Your ego won’t allow you to take a step back from playcalling duties—an area where you struggle more than any playcaller I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure what’s worse—the plays you call or the way you defend those calls after the game. You are a victim of poor leadership from the top. It’s not your fault, but you’re not the answer.
Dan Snyder: Check my track record: I’ve been one of your strongest supporters since you bought the team. I’ve defended you every chance I get. I think the media and fans have not treated you fairly over the years. People glossed over the fact that the Commanders were HORRID before you arrived and that you were not responsible for the Norv Turner years or the disappointment that is FedEx Field. Things were much worse when you took ownership than people were willing to admit. And God love you, you’ve tried. I do not doubt your effort or your love for the team. I do not believe you are a greedy grinch who only cares about the bottom line. I do believe you want to win. But I’m done defending you. Eventually, results speak for themselves—and your results stink. As with any organization, things can always be traced to the top—and with the Commanders, you are certainly at the top. Everything that trickles down is a reflection of you. You brought Joe Gibbs back and gave him total control—and not surprisingly, things were much better during those four years. Now that you have once again taken an active role and the leadership chain of command is muddled, chaos has ensued. The team is in disarray and the fans are revolting. Quite frankly, you don’t know what you are doing. I am not imploring you to sell the team (although I wouldn’t complain if you did), but I am imploring you to find a singular voice to run the organization. Someone with a proven track record…someone that controls football operations. Remove yourself from your perch. It may be the only way you can save your legacy with the fanbase.
Hope never completely fades. If it did, there would no longer be any reason to watch. And I’m still watching. I’ll be watching next week when the 0-3 Bucs come to town with a QB making his first career start. I’ll be sitting there wearing my Commanders jersey and hoping for the best. But there are no longer any expectations, other than the expectation of continued misery. You can’t hurt me anymore.
You can aim for the crotch all you want this Sunday, but from now on, I’ll be wearing a cup.
Enjoy.
I don’t ever remember Lucy kicking Charlie Brown in the nuts.
For years, I’ve tried to describe that being a Commanders fan is much like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football from Lucy’s hold. In the analogy, I’m Charlie Brown and the Commanders are Lucy. I know she’s going to pull the ball away at the last second, she knows that she’s going to pull the ball away at the last second, and we both know that I’m going to wind up flat on my back, a little hurt and very embarrassed. The rest of the kids (other NFL fans, my friends and family) will all watch and either revel in my misery or offer some form of pity. But much like Charlie, I keep convincing myself that this time, she’s going to finally let me make contact. Year after year, and week after week, I take a running start, gear up for my big kick, and wind up flailing in the wind before having the wind knocked out me from falling on the hard ground.
But Lucy has never been this cruel. She never walked over to Charlie while he was down and stomped on his gonads. She never took the ball and slammed him in his cojones. She never did a flying leap off the top turnbuckle and aimed for his family jewels. But that’s what the Commanders did to me this past Sunday by losing to the Lions and forever etching themselves in NFL lore as an answer to a trivia question: Which team did the Lions beat to end their 19 game losing streak? The Commanders of course…..
Funny thing is that I saw this coming. Not in the preseason, not after a week one loss to the Giants, and not even after we looked awful in week two, just surviving the lowly Rams. I saw this coming back in April when the NFL schedule was released. I noticed we played the Lions in week two…I noticed they played the Saints and the Vikings to start the year….I figured they’d lose those two…..I figured they wouldn’t lose them all….I figured we might be in trouble. Six months later, the shot to the groin arrived, but despite the preparation, it still hurt. Bad.
There is a silver lining to all of this. I think the Lions crotch-shot may have been a death blow for me. I’ve got nothing left. My tank is empty. I’m out of white flags. Me, and all of my parts, are numb.
I just have a few final words for certain members of the Commanders organization:
Clinton Portis: Thanks for playing as hard on Sundays as anyone I’ve ever seen, but this “Clinton Portis can’t do it all by himself” act is very, very tired. The pouting has grown old. The constant criticism of coaches and teammates while deflecting any accountability yourself is lost on me. Joe Gibbs made you a cornerstone of his rebuilding process, and for the most part, you delivered. Overall, I have good memories of you as a Commander. But I’m ready for you to leave. Sounds like you might be ready to leave as well. Goodbye. And oh yeah, one reason our offense lacks explosion and big plays is because you have zero ability left to break big runs.
Jason Campbell: Five years later, and I still don’t know what to make of you. I think you’ve suffered from poor coaching and constant changes. I don’t think your coaches have shown much faith in you. You’ve been a good soldier through the media and everyone says you are an extremely likeable guy and a hard worker. But sometimes, if you want to make your way in this league or in this world, you’ve got to make your own opportunities. Even with some of the handicaps you’ve been dealt, there have been chances for you—chances that you have yet to seize. I still think there is hope for you, but I’m not sure if it can happen in Washington—we may need a stronger presence at such an important position.
Deangelo Hall: Congratulations on getting two dysfunctional organizations to pay you ridiculous money in a two-year span. It took the Raiders half a season to figure out they made a gigantic error—not quite sure if the Commanders are ready to admit it as well, but they should. You are a decent player, but certainly not worth the dough or the trouble. In many ways (and this is not your fault) you are a symbol of all that is wrong with the Commanders. The organization allows homegrown players like Antonio Pierce and Ryan Clark to walk, while vastly overpaying for the services of bigger names. Not only does it hurt the team cap-wise in the long run, it also advances a culture of inconsistency and makes team unity and the like much more difficult to attain.
Chris Samuels: I’m so sorry. You’ve been an amazing player for us both on and off the field. An absolute gem of a draft pick, you’ve done everything that’s ever been asked of you. If you played for the Patriots, Cowboys, or Giants people would be talking about your Hall of Fame credentials. You’ve been a bright spot in this land of darkness. For your sake, I hope that someday, you get to experience being a champion—because you deserve it.
Vinny Cerrato: You’re not as bad as some make you out to be, but that’s not saying much. If nothing else, the perception of you as a lackey for your boss hurts our rep around the league. No one takes you seriously. It wasn’t so bad when you were just a glorified racquetball buddy for Danny, but now that you have actual power, you are getting exposed. You seem like a nice guy, and your performance in “Kindegarten Ninja” wasn’t too bad. I’d actually suggest a return to Hollywood—probably a better fit for you.
Jim Zorn: It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that you weren’t ready to be a head coach in the NFL. It’s not your fault that Danny and Vinny “saw something” in you. I can actually see what they saw—you are an engaging personality and I do think you have some fight and grit inside of you. I do think you have a certain toughness and confidence that I like, but ultimately, you are in over your head. Your ego won’t allow you to take a step back from playcalling duties—an area where you struggle more than any playcaller I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure what’s worse—the plays you call or the way you defend those calls after the game. You are a victim of poor leadership from the top. It’s not your fault, but you’re not the answer.
Dan Snyder: Check my track record: I’ve been one of your strongest supporters since you bought the team. I’ve defended you every chance I get. I think the media and fans have not treated you fairly over the years. People glossed over the fact that the Commanders were HORRID before you arrived and that you were not responsible for the Norv Turner years or the disappointment that is FedEx Field. Things were much worse when you took ownership than people were willing to admit. And God love you, you’ve tried. I do not doubt your effort or your love for the team. I do not believe you are a greedy grinch who only cares about the bottom line. I do believe you want to win. But I’m done defending you. Eventually, results speak for themselves—and your results stink. As with any organization, things can always be traced to the top—and with the Commanders, you are certainly at the top. Everything that trickles down is a reflection of you. You brought Joe Gibbs back and gave him total control—and not surprisingly, things were much better during those four years. Now that you have once again taken an active role and the leadership chain of command is muddled, chaos has ensued. The team is in disarray and the fans are revolting. Quite frankly, you don’t know what you are doing. I am not imploring you to sell the team (although I wouldn’t complain if you did), but I am imploring you to find a singular voice to run the organization. Someone with a proven track record…someone that controls football operations. Remove yourself from your perch. It may be the only way you can save your legacy with the fanbase.
Hope never completely fades. If it did, there would no longer be any reason to watch. And I’m still watching. I’ll be watching next week when the 0-3 Bucs come to town with a QB making his first career start. I’ll be sitting there wearing my Commanders jersey and hoping for the best. But there are no longer any expectations, other than the expectation of continued misery. You can’t hurt me anymore.
You can aim for the crotch all you want this Sunday, but from now on, I’ll be wearing a cup.
