Accidental Saboteur

Dear Diary,

You may be the only friend I have left. I don't even know if I can be my own friend. How could I possibly show loyalty to myself when I failed to show loyalty to my team?

I don't know how it happened. Honestly, the last thing I would want to do is bring any misfortune upon my team. It's raining down on them now, though, and it's all because of me. This morning when I got dressed to go to the game, I put a lot of thought into my outfit. Last time I went to a game, you may recall, it was the pre-season opener, and it was still hot out. I wore my netted jersey without anything underneath it, and that did not go over well. As comfortable as I was temperature-wise, I was equally uncomfortable with people giving me the stink-eye for being overexposed and under-dressed. Anyway, lesson learned: wear something underneath the jersey.

I thought I was brilliant and perfectly attired because I managed to find a very sleek, rather discreet top to wear beneath my Cooley jersey. I was so distracted by my inflated sense of success that I failed to consider the ill-chosen socks!!! I did not wear my fluffy fuchsia, individual-toe socks!!!!! Instead, I wore regular old, boring, no-luck, white sucks. Not only did my beloved team lose, but the game wasn't even interesting. Frankly, it's unacceptable that I didn't notice my oversight until we were exiting the stadium. There's really no excuse. I should have recognized the clearly unusual circumstance of the Redskins losing. It never happens when I'm wearing my lucky socks, certainly not when their magical powers are within the vicinity of the game. (Their potency is undeniable when it's within a mile of the field. It's true.)

On my way down the ramps to the parking lot, I overheard a very disappointed fan discussing their lack of luck, and it hit me like the beer can would later hit my hood (and my window and my bumper and my side mirror...). It was only then that I looked down, pulled up the leg of my jeans, and spotted the bland white of my crappy socks. Of course, I immediately stopped everyone, so I could apologize. I made my mea culpas to all who were in my immediate presence, but I soon realized that was simply insufficient. I started to race around the ramp, grabbing any burgundy-and-gold clad individuals I could, apologized profusely, and promised to do penance.

Little did I know that retaliation would be swift. Before I could even finish my round of guilt-ridden "sorry"s, I began to realize that, not unlike me, these Redskins fans meant business. They were not happy with me. Not at all. I hastened along my path to my car, but I couldn't get there fast enough. They weren't physically abusive despite their verbal hostility until I was actually in the car, an unexpected display of kindness. The Redskins sticker on my bumper did little to assuage the ferocity of the crowd's rage, so, as I told you before, my car quickly became the target of many, rather varied stadium parking lot objects. Everything from beers cans and bottles to orange cones, chicken and steak bones to souvenir cups, everything imaginable and some unimaginable items were hailing down on my bewildered (probably because I accidentally tried to take off from fifth gear) coupe.

The most shocking part remains that my entire group of friends were leading the pack. In fact, they were the ones who punched out my window. They said it was to get inside, but then why spit on my seat and dump out the last dregs remaining in various beverage containers?

To be clear: I'm not complaining. I deserved every bit of the punishment. In fact, when I got home, I went inside and grabbed the most pungent foods and the most artificially-colored drinks to pour all over the interior of my car. Also, rest assured, I've rid my drawers of all other socks. There remains but one pair. I will either go without socks, or I will wash them daily. Either way, this will not happen again.

Most humbly yours,

WorstFanEver aka TheReasontheRedskinsLost

p.s. I'm drafting a letter of apology to Rexy and letters of confession to the sports newscasters. It's time they stopped blaming him and pointed the finger at the responsible party.