Since I moved to D.C. in 1996, the team’s fortunes, depending on your rooting interests, were either high comedy or low tragedy (this guy was most assuredly both). But now, for the first time since you became boss, the burgundy-and-gold matters. Now the top-selling jersey in the NFL is our own Robert Griffin III, a second-year quarterback who — and it thrills just to type these words — somehow led the NFL in yards per attempt and yards per carry in his first season. Now this is a team that, if RG3 stays upright, will contend for Super Bowls over the next decade. He’s that good.
Imagine if your team makes the Super Bowl. Instead of glory, I can guarantee two solid weeks of coverage, debate, and questions about why our shared national holiday will be marred by a racial slur. Instead of celebrating the league, your buddy Roger Goodell would be under the hot lights and pressed at every turn about why several media outlets in the D.C.-Metro area refer to your franchise only as “the Washington football team.” There would be “Occupy Redskins” protests in the Super Bowl host city. With RG3 comes relevance, and with relevance comes the one thing Roger Goodell loathes more than direct sunlight: political attention. The attention RG3 demands, the heightened profile of the team, and your desire to get a new D.C. stadium all speak to the reason why there is more sunlight than ever on the shame of this name and why the end is assuredly near.
You are a man with gossamer-thin skin and no shortage of pride. For your own good, you need to switch your thinking on this.