The Rivalry That Stirs Emotion....and Sauce

Last night, I had pizza for dinner. On December 13th, 1992, I had spaghetti with homemade sauce for dinner. In between those two, I have eaten approximately 4,745 evening meals. And I can't recall one of them. So what's so special about that one pasta dish in 1992?

I was 15 years old living in Tulsa, OK. My Dad was out of town on business and my Mom had to go in to the office for some holiday party. Before she left, she put a pot of her homemade red sauce on the stove, and told me to keep on eye on it. I had no problem accepting this simple task, but my mind was elswhere. At 3:00 on this dark, cloudy, cold afternoon my beloved Washington Redskins were taking on the hated Dallas Cowboys in a crucial NFC East battle at RFK Stadium. The Redskins were the battered and hobbled defending champions, scratching and clawing their way to the playoffs. The Cowboys were the glitzy new stars of the NFL-- Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, and Michael Irvin, along with coach Jimmy Johnson led a surge in Dallas that would culminate in their first of three Super Bowl titles later that year. But none of that mattered on that day. That day was about so much more than those two teams in that one year.

Redskins-Cowboys stirs something unique in the mind of fans of both teams. In sports, you generally dislike your opponent, but rarely do you view the opposition as contrary to all of your own personal beliefs and goals. That's what this rivalry is about. It's not simply because the two teams play in the same division, or that they've happened to meet in big moments throughout history. It's not just Cowboys and Indians or East versus West, all of which contribute to the hatred. It's the PEOPLE, it's the STYLE, it's the LIFE. When I see Dallas-- both the team and the city, I see what I hate: Tailored suits, bleached teeth, big stars (both literally and figuritavely) everywhere. I see a pompous attitude that everything is "bigger and better" in Texas. I see Hollywood West. And that team has become the incaration of all of those things, regardless of who coaches or plays for them in a given year. They are the enemy. Past and future, and certainly present.

The Redskins struggled that day in 1992. They were down 17-7 at the half, and things were not looking good. In the second half, rather than get down on their stumbling team, the fans at RFK lifted them up, made more noise than I've ever heard before, and willed the Redskins back into the game. Late in the 4th quarter, the Redskins managed to cut the lead to 17-13 with just a few minutes remaining. Dallas had the ball backed up against their own goal line. The fans were going wild. It was now or never for the Redskins.

A journeymen defensive tackle named Jason Buck, got a great push up the middle, forcing his man to bump Aikman as he was getting ready to throw. Buck clawed at Aikman, and Troy went down-- so did the ball. What followed next was a mad scramble in the end zone-- and in my living room. The ball was bouncing around as I lunged at the TV. Emmitt Smith grabbed for the ball, he tried to scoop it up and advance it all at once, but then the ball disappeared into a jumble of bodies as I found myself crumpled on the floor next to the couch, frantically searching for the ball as if I could get a better angle from the floor. That pile-up seemed to last three hours. Finally, after much conversation, the refs threw their hands in the air in the universal signal for touchdown! Redskins safety Danny Copeland had recovered the ball in the end zone, giving the Redskins an improbable 20-17 lead. I went nuts. I ran from the kitchen to the dining room, back to the living room-- I'd almost forgotten that there was still a few minutes left and Dallas would get one more crack at winning the game.

When Dallas got the ball back, the fans were so rowdy that the cameras were shaking at the stadium, causing a dizzying effect for those watching at home. Aikman quickly began moving his team down the field, but a sack by another unknown Redskins (Shane Collins) halted their momentum. On fourth down and long, facing desperation, Aikman's long pass to Irvin fell harmlessly incomplete, and the Redskins won the game. It was a moment of euphoroic relief. Rumor has it that Cowboys coach Johnson requested counseling after the game. Who knows if it's true, but I've always liked to believe that it was.

My Mom got home shortly after the game ended. I had been taping the game and forced her to watch the end twice with me-- just to make sure it had really happened. After I settled down, we sat at the table and ate her delicious sauce. I can still remember the smell. After all these years, I still remember that meal. I still remember no-names Jason Buck, Danny Copeland, and Shane Collins. I still remember that feeling. That feeling that Dallas may be on their way, but we just gave them a heartache they will never forget.

Redskins coach Joe Gibbs retired after that season. Over the next 12 years, the Cowboys got the best of the Redskins for the most part. Then, Gibbs came back. Earlier this year, the Redskins wrote another chapter in the rivalry with an improbable comeback on Monday Night, beating Dallas 14-13.

But THIS Sunday is what really tugs at the senses for Redskins fans. Late afternoon. Washington, D.C. Cold, wet, dark. Cowboys-Redskins. Playoffs on the line. It hasn't been this way in a long time. As a matter of fact, it hasn't been this way since December 13th, 1992. I don't know what my wife and I are having for dinner this Sunday---but I hope to be able to tell you all about.......13 years from now.

Hail to the Redskins!!!

First Blog Offering

As if we didn't live in a society based on egotism to begin with, some computer wizards had to go and create "Blogs." When I first heard about a "blog." my immediate reaction was, "What the *&&* is a blog?" Initially, I thought blogs were available only to those with supreme computer literacy. Now I know that you barely need regular old human literacy to start and maintain one of these things. Here's a list of people who start blogs:

1. People with lots to say, but no one to say it to.
2. People with nothing to say, and no one to say it to.
3. People with nothing to say, but lots of people to say it to.
4. People who truly believe they have lots to say, and truly believe they have lots of people to say it to.

I guess I'm a number 4.

Thus, my first entry in "Ed's Blog." By the simple fact that I've taken the time to set this thing up, write these words, and alert you of their exsistence, I have joined the millions of people around the world who engage in the perptual back-patting, mind-numbing, worhtless world of blogging. I don't think it's a coincidence that "blogging" is a typo away from "babbling."

In this blog, which I plan to update on a regular basis, I will focus on a wide variety of subjects and thoughts. Sports has been the number one theme of my literary life (try not to laugh), so football, baseball, and basketball will most assuredly dominate at times. However, I also plan on delving into other riveting subjects such as politics, religion, and whatever else tickles my fancy at the moment. I will also use this blog to reflect: For one whole year (February 2004-February 2005) I kept a daily journal of my comings and goings, thoughts and experiences. I was never quite sure why I did it or what it may lead to. But at least now I have somewhere to paste it. So every time I make a new entry, I will include a specical section entitled... "What I was doing a year ago today..."

Thanks for taking the time to read. I hope you will bookmark my site and come back to see me again. Maybe it will make you laugh, maybe it will make you think, maybe it will make you question why in God's name you just wasted five minutes of your life. Either way, it's probably better than doing whatever you should be doing at work. Enjoy

What I Was Doing a Year Ago Today: (from December 14th, 2004):

12-13-04 (Monday): I was right. The alarm was a bitch this morning. The minute that damn thing went off, I was reminded about the game last night and how I’d be feeling so much better had they won. Oddly enough, I was still able to spring out of bed without much of a problem. After brushing my teeth and feeding the dog, I headed to my normal early morning spot in front of the computer. Nothing more cathartic than to share my anguish with fellow fans on the message boards. Misery loves company. Unfortunately, I have experienced too much of the former, but fortunately, I also have a lot of the latter. Perhaps I am just accustomed to it, but the sting of loss faded as I made it through the workday. It was chilly, but dry, and we had enough going on to keep us moving most of the day, which was probably the best medicine for me. Somewhere along the line, I stopped thinking about the game and started thinking about our trip. I can’t believe we leave THIS Friday for San Francisco. When we planned it way back in the summer it seemed like this week would never arrive. I am a nervous flyer and nervous traveler. My panic/anxiety problems have been much better since I’ve been on the medication, but they certainly haven’t “cured” me of all my little worries. My biggest fear right now is that I’m going to do something that is going to ruin the trip for Jennie. I am so afraid that I’ll come down with a raging fever the night before we leave. Or what if I freak out and can’t get on the plane? As always, the anticipation is by far the worst part. I have no doubt I will be just fine once that plane gets up in the sky. At that point, it’s totally out of my hands, so there’s no sense in worrying. Despite my anxieties, I am very much excited about our vacation. Don’t want to play my violin too loudly, but we really could use a break. Not just from work, but a break from the norm. It’s been over three years since we took a “real” vacation, and that was our Honeymoon in San Diego, so I’m not sure that totally qualifies as a vacation. We did spend a weekend in St. Louis a few summers ago and attended two Reds-Cardinals game. Again, not sure if that counts as a vacation. I believe Jennie described it as “torture.”

Jennie could tell I was a bit “antsy” tonight so she didn’t put up a fight when I asked if I could watch the Cavs game. She knew it would give me something else to think about other than potential disasters that might befall me in the coming days. Hopefully, the Cavs victory in Memphis this evening was a sign of things to come. After years and years of being mired at the bottom of the NBA standings, the Cavs are a competent team, led by the best young player in the game. They are in first place, and the sailing looks to be smooth from here on out. I have no doubt the same will hold true for our vacation—as long as I make it to the boat.