Finally got to catch up with Cooley Wednesday afternoon to settle the battle of the chants. Of course, I got all of my official Washington Post business out of the way first - his thoughts on the new offense, this preseason, yada yada yada - then moved in for the really important stuff. I explained the contest we had on the blog for the best chant - astonishingly enough, he's not a regular reader (probably couldn't find my tiny corner in cyber pace, yeah, that explains it) - and he gladly assumed his role of judge. I handed him my printout of the three finalists (I'll post the winner again at the bottom of this entry) and he immediately started to crack up. I never mentioned which one I thought should be the winner, in the interest of fairness and all. Each chant elicited at least one chuckle from
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