Redskins Rescued Life without NHL Hockey in '04
Steve Polevoi
July 22, 2005
Without a doubt NHL hockey is my favorite sport. Unfortunately for us fans across North America, we went without for the entire 2004-2005 campaign. The players, who had previously not shown the greed of the other major sport athletes, suddenly decided they couldn’t feed their families on an average salary in the neighborhood of $1.5 million. The good news is the players returned to the bargaining table with their tails between their legs, many blaming union leadership for leading them down the wrong sheet of ice.
Bottom line: I get my favorite sport back, my season tickets have been reduced by 16%, and my kids and I can make our semi-annual trek to Vancouver to watch the NHL in the country of its birth.
Not having the NHL last season gave me a great deal of time that during most seasons is spent reading, talking, viewing, and thinking about the greatest sport on earth. I don’t follow the NFL nearly as close as I once did, however, compared to the average fan, I’m still quite knowledgeable and passionate about the game. To be sure, I can hold my own at the water cooler and coffee bar on Monday mornings. With a sizeable refund for my season tickets, not to mention all the ancillary savings for parking, arena grub, and the occasional merchandise purchase I decided to kick the NFL up a notch in my book and hit the road for a game outside my home region.
There was only one possible destination – Washington, D.C., or more specifically Landover, Maryland, home of Fed Ex Field and the Washington Redskins. I have been a Redskins fan since January 28, 1971. I’ll explain how a kid from LA becomes a Redskins fan in a future column during this coming season. I came, I saw, and the Redskins conquered their northern rivals the New York Giants. I like to think of the following as my Big Redskins Adventure.
It’s 10:15 pm on Saturday December 4th,. I settle into my seat and loosely buckle the seatbelt as the flight attendant announces that United 228, non-stop “red eye” service to Dulles International, will be departing on-time. Internally I debate whether I should try to force sleep or simply relax. I’ve been looking forward to this adventure for some time now. Going to Fed-Ex to see my Redskins! You see, I’m an oddball, a Redskins fan living in 49er and Raider country.
As the plane taxis down the runaway I revisit the only concern I’ve had since I planned this trip – the weather. I’ve lived my entire life – 48 years – in sunny California. Those years have been evenly split between my hometown Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area. To me, cold weather begins somewhere south of 62 degrees.
Oh, I’ve been in cold weather before. A business trip took me to Minneapolis one February where the temperature hit -20 degrees. I spent a week in Toronto where the thermometer never rose above 14 degrees, and I’ve had plenty of winter visits to snowy Chicago. I’m prepared for cold weather, I’ve just never sat in the upper reaches of a stadium for three-plus hours in it. But the forecast for tomorrow is a high of 56 / low of 43, with a 20% chance of rain. I can handle that.
I know what you east-coasters are thinking: what a wimp! This is real football weather! I don’t disagree with the second thought. I definitely have always had a romanticized view of football being played on blustery cold afternoons, but I’ve never experienced anything remotely close to the “frozen tundra.” You see, during my youth, it was not considered extraordinary to watch the Los Angeles Rams in early December armed with two vital provisions: sunglasses and sunscreen. In any event, I’ll attempt to blend in with the Redskin masses on Sunday, although I’m certain the locals will see me coming from a mile away.
I tried for years to arrange my schedule to be in D.C. for a Redskins game at RFK. Although I have been in the Metro area countless times, it always is in the April-May-June timeframe. I planned on attending the last game at RFK but found myself in Sydney, Australia for my employer and had to miss it. I never miss the Skins in California, be it in San Diego or here in the Bay Area. I’ll be at Candlestick ( no one locally actually refers to it as “Monster Park”) for their visit on the 18th, a game they have a good chance of winning since the 49ers are probably the worst team in the NFL. As we cruise at 30,000 feet above somewhere in an easterly direction (it’s too dark to see and the pilot chooses, thankfully, not to be a tour guide), I start to drift off with thoughts of seeing my Redskins at home for the very first time.
Although I’ve been attending NFL games for parts of five decades, I’m as excited to go to Fed-Ex as I was attending my first pro game in 1966. My plan upon landing is to take a cab to Alexandria, where I’ll be spending Sunday night, and decide whether to ride the Metro to the game or take the Bar Bus from Theismann’s Restaurant down the street. Right now I’m leaning towards the Metro since it’ll allow me to get to Fed-Ex on my own schedule.
I’ve always been big on arriving at foreign stadiums and arenas early to soak up the local color and flavor of the fans and the venue. Besides, If I take the Bar Bus, I might show up at Fed-Ex drunk, with just enough time to run to my seat for the kick-off. Besides, I plan on touring the tailgate area to compare it with those of the “white wine and brie” 49ers and “raw meat and blood” Raiders.
Sonny!, Sonny!, throw it to Charley, he’s open! Oh, I must’ve been dreaming. The pilot has just announced that we’ll be landing at Dulles in about 20 minutes. I’m calm, rested and ready for some football, Redskins football at Fed-Ex Field. I hope the weather forecasters aren’t too far off their prediction.
I grab a cab for Alexandria. The cabbie, making reference to my Redskins sweatshirt, inquires if I’m going to the game today. He is very down on the Skins, Joe Gibbs return, Daniel Snyder’s arrogance, ticket prices, beer prices, the move from RFK, and the general shenanigans attributed to NFL players ala Terrell Owens. He thinks Marty Shottenheimer was mistreated. I inquire if he attends games; he says the last game he attended Joe Theismann was quarterback. I take this as an omen not to take the Bar Bus from Theismann’s Restaurant. He wishes me a good time as he drops me in front of my hotel.
My Metro experience to Fed-Ex is uneventful. Jumping on the Blue line right across the street from my hotel, it’s an easy ride to the Addison Road station. Every stop produces more and more burgundy and gold denizens, some clearly inebriated, others high on the possibilities of a rare 2004 home win. So far I think I’m blending in pretty well. No one suspects that I’m a west coast, cold weather-challenged interloper. Keeping my gloves, scarf, and knit hat in my jacket pocket and not on my being gives the impression of a local. I wonder how long these items will stay in my pocket once I’m subjected to the elements in section 405.
The weather when I arrive is unbelievable. Warm, sunny, high 50s, no wind – what was I thinking? I’ve sat in colder weather for 49er pre-season games in August! I can’t imagine the weather changing all that much in two hours. The knit hat and scarf never come out of my pocket, though I must admit the gloves go on by the 4th quarter.
One word describes local Redskins fans from my point of view after a single visit to Fed-Ex: civility. On the shuttle from the Metro station a fan wearing a Jeremy Shockey jersey is told, in a friendly manner, that he’s wearing the wrong jersey. He says that wearing it to Fed-Ex is no problem, but he’d never attempt it in Philly. I noticed literally hundreds of Shockey, Manning, Barber, and Lawrence Taylor-clad folks who were definitely not in harms way. In fact, Sunday at Fed-Ex is the first NFL game I’ve attended where I didn’t see even the beginnings of a potential violent conflict between fans. Of course I can only speak from one small section of the stadium, but still, this was something I had never experienced. I’m told it might be different if the Eagles or Cowboys are in town.
I was glad to see some respect for history from the local fans. For every two-to-three Arrington and Ramsey jerseys, I noticed at least one from yesteryear: Jurgensen, Huff, Williams, Riggins. It was very cool to witness the Redskins Marching Band march around the stadium playing “Hail to the Redskins,” a song I’m happy to report was played several times throughout the game, and I proudly and loudly sang at each opportunity. I was less impressed by the P.A. announcer, whose other job must be either a game-show host or morning zoo deejay. I also could’ve done without the “Funky 4,” who were less entertaining than the P.A. announcer.
All in all it was a fabulous game, well worth flying across country on a redeye for. The Skins absolutely demolished the Giants, 31-7, yielding a shutout on defense. Patrick Ramsey looked great and just might be the answer at quarterback. I agreed with the Post’s assessment that only the special teams marred an otherwise spectacular performance.
I ended my Redskins experience by dining at Joe Theismann’s (try the bisque). It was a somewhat macabre experience to be in JT’s, watching him pontificate on the large screen TV in front of my table. I informed the waiter that his boss was watching us while we were watching him. The waiter said it happens every Sunday night during football season.
As I sit at Gate C-14 at Dulles I envision the possibility of doing this again next season. A game earlier in the season will certainly remove the weather question, and staying in Alexandria and metro-ing it to the game was convenient and hassle-free. I can’t wait till the 2005 schedule is released. Until then the Skins will be in San Francisco in two weeks, and I’ll be there, loudly belting out “Hail to the Redskins,” without accompaniment no doubt, on each Skins score. Hail to the Redskins Indeed!
Bottom line: I get my favorite sport back, my season tickets have been reduced by 16%, and my kids and I can make our semi-annual trek to Vancouver to watch the NHL in the country of its birth.
Not having the NHL last season gave me a great deal of time that during most seasons is spent reading, talking, viewing, and thinking about the greatest sport on earth. I don’t follow the NFL nearly as close as I once did, however, compared to the average fan, I’m still quite knowledgeable and passionate about the game. To be sure, I can hold my own at the water cooler and coffee bar on Monday mornings. With a sizeable refund for my season tickets, not to mention all the ancillary savings for parking, arena grub, and the occasional merchandise purchase I decided to kick the NFL up a notch in my book and hit the road for a game outside my home region.
There was only one possible destination – Washington, D.C., or more specifically Landover, Maryland, home of Fed Ex Field and the Washington Redskins. I have been a Redskins fan since January 28, 1971. I’ll explain how a kid from LA becomes a Redskins fan in a future column during this coming season. I came, I saw, and the Redskins conquered their northern rivals the New York Giants. I like to think of the following as my Big Redskins Adventure.
It’s 10:15 pm on Saturday December 4th,. I settle into my seat and loosely buckle the seatbelt as the flight attendant announces that United 228, non-stop “red eye” service to Dulles International, will be departing on-time. Internally I debate whether I should try to force sleep or simply relax. I’ve been looking forward to this adventure for some time now. Going to Fed-Ex to see my Redskins! You see, I’m an oddball, a Redskins fan living in 49er and Raider country.
As the plane taxis down the runaway I revisit the only concern I’ve had since I planned this trip – the weather. I’ve lived my entire life – 48 years – in sunny California. Those years have been evenly split between my hometown Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area. To me, cold weather begins somewhere south of 62 degrees.
Oh, I’ve been in cold weather before. A business trip took me to Minneapolis one February where the temperature hit -20 degrees. I spent a week in Toronto where the thermometer never rose above 14 degrees, and I’ve had plenty of winter visits to snowy Chicago. I’m prepared for cold weather, I’ve just never sat in the upper reaches of a stadium for three-plus hours in it. But the forecast for tomorrow is a high of 56 / low of 43, with a 20% chance of rain. I can handle that.
I know what you east-coasters are thinking: what a wimp! This is real football weather! I don’t disagree with the second thought. I definitely have always had a romanticized view of football being played on blustery cold afternoons, but I’ve never experienced anything remotely close to the “frozen tundra.” You see, during my youth, it was not considered extraordinary to watch the Los Angeles Rams in early December armed with two vital provisions: sunglasses and sunscreen. In any event, I’ll attempt to blend in with the Redskin masses on Sunday, although I’m certain the locals will see me coming from a mile away.
I tried for years to arrange my schedule to be in D.C. for a Redskins game at RFK. Although I have been in the Metro area countless times, it always is in the April-May-June timeframe. I planned on attending the last game at RFK but found myself in Sydney, Australia for my employer and had to miss it. I never miss the Skins in California, be it in San Diego or here in the Bay Area. I’ll be at Candlestick ( no one locally actually refers to it as “Monster Park”) for their visit on the 18th, a game they have a good chance of winning since the 49ers are probably the worst team in the NFL. As we cruise at 30,000 feet above somewhere in an easterly direction (it’s too dark to see and the pilot chooses, thankfully, not to be a tour guide), I start to drift off with thoughts of seeing my Redskins at home for the very first time.
Although I’ve been attending NFL games for parts of five decades, I’m as excited to go to Fed-Ex as I was attending my first pro game in 1966. My plan upon landing is to take a cab to Alexandria, where I’ll be spending Sunday night, and decide whether to ride the Metro to the game or take the Bar Bus from Theismann’s Restaurant down the street. Right now I’m leaning towards the Metro since it’ll allow me to get to Fed-Ex on my own schedule.
I’ve always been big on arriving at foreign stadiums and arenas early to soak up the local color and flavor of the fans and the venue. Besides, If I take the Bar Bus, I might show up at Fed-Ex drunk, with just enough time to run to my seat for the kick-off. Besides, I plan on touring the tailgate area to compare it with those of the “white wine and brie” 49ers and “raw meat and blood” Raiders.
Sonny!, Sonny!, throw it to Charley, he’s open! Oh, I must’ve been dreaming. The pilot has just announced that we’ll be landing at Dulles in about 20 minutes. I’m calm, rested and ready for some football, Redskins football at Fed-Ex Field. I hope the weather forecasters aren’t too far off their prediction.
I grab a cab for Alexandria. The cabbie, making reference to my Redskins sweatshirt, inquires if I’m going to the game today. He is very down on the Skins, Joe Gibbs return, Daniel Snyder’s arrogance, ticket prices, beer prices, the move from RFK, and the general shenanigans attributed to NFL players ala Terrell Owens. He thinks Marty Shottenheimer was mistreated. I inquire if he attends games; he says the last game he attended Joe Theismann was quarterback. I take this as an omen not to take the Bar Bus from Theismann’s Restaurant. He wishes me a good time as he drops me in front of my hotel.
My Metro experience to Fed-Ex is uneventful. Jumping on the Blue line right across the street from my hotel, it’s an easy ride to the Addison Road station. Every stop produces more and more burgundy and gold denizens, some clearly inebriated, others high on the possibilities of a rare 2004 home win. So far I think I’m blending in pretty well. No one suspects that I’m a west coast, cold weather-challenged interloper. Keeping my gloves, scarf, and knit hat in my jacket pocket and not on my being gives the impression of a local. I wonder how long these items will stay in my pocket once I’m subjected to the elements in section 405.
The weather when I arrive is unbelievable. Warm, sunny, high 50s, no wind – what was I thinking? I’ve sat in colder weather for 49er pre-season games in August! I can’t imagine the weather changing all that much in two hours. The knit hat and scarf never come out of my pocket, though I must admit the gloves go on by the 4th quarter.
One word describes local Redskins fans from my point of view after a single visit to Fed-Ex: civility. On the shuttle from the Metro station a fan wearing a Jeremy Shockey jersey is told, in a friendly manner, that he’s wearing the wrong jersey. He says that wearing it to Fed-Ex is no problem, but he’d never attempt it in Philly. I noticed literally hundreds of Shockey, Manning, Barber, and Lawrence Taylor-clad folks who were definitely not in harms way. In fact, Sunday at Fed-Ex is the first NFL game I’ve attended where I didn’t see even the beginnings of a potential violent conflict between fans. Of course I can only speak from one small section of the stadium, but still, this was something I had never experienced. I’m told it might be different if the Eagles or Cowboys are in town.
I was glad to see some respect for history from the local fans. For every two-to-three Arrington and Ramsey jerseys, I noticed at least one from yesteryear: Jurgensen, Huff, Williams, Riggins. It was very cool to witness the Redskins Marching Band march around the stadium playing “Hail to the Redskins,” a song I’m happy to report was played several times throughout the game, and I proudly and loudly sang at each opportunity. I was less impressed by the P.A. announcer, whose other job must be either a game-show host or morning zoo deejay. I also could’ve done without the “Funky 4,” who were less entertaining than the P.A. announcer.
All in all it was a fabulous game, well worth flying across country on a redeye for. The Skins absolutely demolished the Giants, 31-7, yielding a shutout on defense. Patrick Ramsey looked great and just might be the answer at quarterback. I agreed with the Post’s assessment that only the special teams marred an otherwise spectacular performance.
I ended my Redskins experience by dining at Joe Theismann’s (try the bisque). It was a somewhat macabre experience to be in JT’s, watching him pontificate on the large screen TV in front of my table. I informed the waiter that his boss was watching us while we were watching him. The waiter said it happens every Sunday night during football season.
As I sit at Gate C-14 at Dulles I envision the possibility of doing this again next season. A game earlier in the season will certainly remove the weather question, and staying in Alexandria and metro-ing it to the game was convenient and hassle-free. I can’t wait till the 2005 schedule is released. Until then the Skins will be in San Francisco in two weeks, and I’ll be there, loudly belting out “Hail to the Redskins,” without accompaniment no doubt, on each Skins score. Hail to the Redskins Indeed!
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