My Two-Year Old Sports Journalist

Washington Commanders

My scientific conclusion is thus: Sports journalists are all two years old. It must be the case. I know, because I have one (a two year old, not a sports journalist). When something bad happens, that thing is set in stone, and no amount of explaining (or begging or pleading) can convince them otherwise. A bug flew in the face of my two-year old a few months ago, and now he’s forever terrified of bugs. Dan Snyder (admittedly) tried to purchase a Super Bowl title in 2000, and now he is eternally a big spender on old, worthless free agents. No amount of arguing can convince them otherwise. And don’t bother using logic or statistics, because they don’t mean anything to two-year olds. I like to call this irrational dislike of the Redskins the ‘Dan Snyder Effect’, which isn’t some climactic phenomenon, like El Nino. But it does seem to have an effect on the ability of some in the sports world to judge the Redskins with objectivity. If we spend some money on a free agent, it’s Dan Snyder going crazy again. If the Eagles land a Jevon Kearse or the Cowboys spend a load of dough on a T.O., they’re brilliant. Is it jealousy? Hatred? Stupidity? Indigestion? One can only speculate. It will always seem to us as fans that the media is set against us, no matter what we do. If we lose, it’s ‘I told you so.’ If we win, it’s ‘Yeah, but…’ I used to get my Fruit of the Looms all twisted every time I heard a journalist illogically slam the Redskins, but no more. I’ve developed a new mantra to combat this hopeless situation: Whatever. Sean Salisbury makes a bet to walk from Bristol to D.C., but won’t back it up? Whatever. Mark Schlereth (who played for Joe Gibbs, for goodness sake!) wants to doubt that Coach Gibbs can succeed with the plethora of talent on this team? Whatever. ESPN and SI want to continue to place us dead last in the competitive NFC East? Whatever. Peter King wants to pursue his claim that Art Monk does not belong in the Hall of Fame? Whatev- no, wait, that one I won’t concede so easily. This time of year, at the cusp of the regular season, is the worst time to be a sports journalist. All their predictions, all their statements, all their beliefs, are about to be true, or bogus. They’re scared. They’re afraid. They’re most likely hiding in caves right about now. Of course, they’ll forget that they ever said that the Niners would take the division, or deny that they claimed that AJ Feeley is set for a breakout year, or simply avoid discussing any of their past incorrect predictions, and move on to their next set of soon-to-be incorrect predictions. But I won’t forget. I have a long memory, as do many of us fans. They can try to smile and act like they didn’t say that, but we know. We know that deep in their hearts (assuming they have those), they KNOW that they were wrong. And now that I’m all about the ‘Whatever’, that’s good enough for…

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