Faithful

When I was in 3rd grade, the Redskins won the Superbowl. I don't remember much about the game (what nine-year-old girl really understands football?) but I do remember what it felt like to be in this city that year. It was like the best birthday present I ever received.

The Superbowl was much earlier in the year, and usually fell about a week after my birthday. Dad was excited, and always had friends over to watch the game, while Mom and the wives chatted about something (anything) else in the living room. But in 1992, the Redskins brought home the hardware, and the city lit up. You could hear people cheering in the neighborhood about the victory, and you couldn't walk a block for months without seeing someone wearing burgundy and gold.

It's obvious those days are hard to come by recently. Someone articulated it so perfectly the other day - being a Redskins fan these days is like being in an abusive relationship. Yesterday was the perfect example of the abuse we've endured lately - a lost to the formerly worst team in the NFL, and in effect, we took their place.

It takes a lot to get me really angry, but I was pissed yesterday. To the point where I was ready to smash bottles. As my blackberry exploded with taunts, I hurled a few facebook profanities before putting on my shoes, going to the gym, and running for over an hour.

As I ran, I debated giving up on the Redskins. And I say that a lot (lately, every Sunday), but this one hurt. We've been through quite a few heartbreaking seasons in recent years - 2007 with the loss of Sean Taylor, 2008 when we just missed the playoffs - and I'm getting weary of watching my favorite team in the world tarnish its own name. People in the stands are booing the players and calling for heads to roll. It's like watching a car accident. And it's exhausting.

I even made a list in my head which team would be most logical and most comforting to stand behind.

The Ravens? Seems like the appropriate choice. My entire family lives there and/or was born there. Why not? They're the backup team, anyway. The Jets? Sure. There's even a fellow Wahoo on the squad. And they, like the Ravens, are 3-0. And how about those Saints? Who would've thought they'd do well this year? Even the Lions. I mean, come on. Detroit needs some love, after the year they've had. That city's in need of something positive.

Then I thought about the Lions for a minute. As agonizing and infuriating as it was, I watched overjoyed fans cheering for their team who had finally broken this awful streak, at our expense. One linebacker was even crying. These people, that city, endured nearly two years of jokes, criticism, and whole lot of other crap for two years. 19 straight losses. And yet there were still people in the stands, wearing their colors. A lot of those people could have defected to Green Bay or Minnesota. But they stayed. They stayed and waited for the win.

It's easy to love the Cowboys. They're the most popular franchise in the world with a new biodome for a stadium. Who wouldn't love the Steelers? They have six Super Bowls, for Christ's sake. And it's easy for fans of the Steelers and Cowboys and Giants and Patriots to make fun of guys who couldn't get a win if someone sucked it up into a syringe and injected it into their arms.

And for many, it may be easy to get up and walk across to the other side of the beltway and put on a purple jersey and forget about the Skins altogether. But if the Lions can stick it out through two years of agony, I suppose I can do the same, in spite of getting bullied into walking away.

So I'll keep my Portis jersey, thank you very much. I will take the punches (because let's face it, people hate us when we're good, too), I'll probably throw pillows and take my frustration out on the treadmill when we lose. I'll still be proud when the Skins take the field, even through the abuse, because they represent my city.

And I'll remember walking to school with a burgundy and gold scarf, watching people honk cheerfully if they saw someone showing support, and catching the parade on TV.

It hurts now, but underdogs aren't underdogs forever.