Sure, give Redskins their celebration ...not that anyone in Baltimore really gives a hogs snout, anyway

Ken Rosaenthal

January 28, 1992|By Ken Rosenthal

As a conciliatory gesture, I invited a Redskins fan to watch the Super Bowl at my house. As a retaliatory gesture, he trained his 2-year-old daughter to deliver a special greeting as she walked through the door.

"Go Redskins!" the little darling whispered.

I nearly flattened the kid.

For those who missed it the first time, I'm sick of the Redskins. All of Baltimore should be, especially now that the 'Skins have trampled another lame opponent for their third Super Bowl victory in 10 years.

In recent weeks you've heard from a variety of sources about how Baltimore should like the Redskins, or does like the Redskins, or maybe will like the Redskins, once the generations of Colts fans disappear.

Hogwash.

Let me rephrase that:

Hogs: Wash!

I said it once and I'll say it again: This is not a Redskins town. From this point forward, anyone who claims otherwise will be considered part of the conspiracy to thwart our attempt to land an expansion franchise.

I just saw "JFK."

I'm a little edgy right now.

No doubt some local folks will jump on that stupid Washington Post bandwagon rolling through the nation's capital like a military tank returning triumphantly from war. But now is the time to disavow the Redskins once and for all.

CNN taught us to monitor revolutions.

This one is clearly in progress.

Exhibit A: Bolsheviks sleeping out at Memorial Stadium in sub-freezing temperatures for tickets to an NFL exhibition that already was half sold out.

Exhibit B: The local television poll in which Redskins haters outnumbered Redskins lovers by more than 1,000 with approximately 10,000 votes cast.

Exhibit C: The televised scene from a Towson bar in which angry patrons took turns performing body slams on a helpless Redskins dummy.

Where's Dick Vitale?

It's an M-U, a mass uprising, baby!

The logical next step would be to sabotage the Redskins' victory rally, but it started today at noon, before we could mobilize.

For now, there's a simple response to all those obnoxious Redskins fans who can't understand why major-league baseball keeps snubbing their beloved D.C.:

Twenty-three days until spring training.

Some people call us sore losers; they're right. Some people call us parochial, jealous and disturbed; they're also right.

Don't worry about labels.

It's a revolution, remember?

Sometimes you just suck it up, for the good of the cause. On Sunday, it was agony rooting for the Headless Horsemen -- er, the Buffalo Bills. I know one thing: No more Denver Broncos jokes out of me.

Those Redskins sure knew how to pick their playoff opponents -- Atlanta, Detroit, then the Shrills. Actually, it was that way all season. No wonder they finished five points short of 19-0.

The Bills are so dumb, they still think they won the Super Bowl last year. Too bad Scott Nor-wide didn't get his big chance for redemption. He could have kicked his helmet, in keeping with the theme of the day.

The Redskins, of course, were on their usual good behavior. Never mind the crimes they committed in the secondary without penalty. Their rabid fans still plan to march on the Capitol to protest the reversal on Art Monk's touchdown.

Anyway, coach Joe Gibbs was so proud, he went out for a chocolate sundae. Owner Jack Kent Cooke grabbed his trophy and asked CBS, "Can I go now?" Mark Rypien defended his haircut, then informed the world he had "charisma."

Rypien should run for president.

Guaranteed, he never dated Gennifer Flowers.

The latest bad news is, the NFL decided not to delay Plan B free-agent signings for a month, which means we won't get a Redskins break from Conspiracy Central -- i.e., the local media.

The Redskins, of course, are just as great at Plan B as they are everything else, but here in Baltimore, we wait breathlessly for the Orioles' minor-league free-agent signing of the week.

Amalio Carreno, he's our man, if he can't do it, Darrell Akerfelds can.

Twenty-three days until spring training.

Let freedom ring.

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