[scheermadness]

If it were another player on the Redskins, would the reaction be the same? Would there be this visceral, nauseating feeling in so many of our guts?
Is it because he was already a tragic figure that we rooted for him that much more?
Or, if there were no 18 month old daughter, would we shrug our shoulders and write it off in the same way we do every other murder victim, in order to wake up in the morning and go about our daily lives?
Or, was there something more there for us? By ‘us,’ I mean the fans of the storied Redskins organization and the meaning it has brought to our lives over the years.
I’ve been struggling with why I feel so angry, helpless, and in a strange way, special.
Maybe it’s because I live on the West coast now, and coverage of my teams entail (“Breaking News: Gilbert Arenas out for 3 Months) on the ESPN scroll… then (Breaking News: Redskins Sean Taylor in critical condition after shooting), then, well, I don’t need to say more. (by the way, when does a “shooting” become a murder?

I know that many of our identities are somewhat constituted on being a ‘Skins fan. I’m curious, though, being in 49er land, among a fan base that has experienced the greatest highs, followed by major expectations, only to be met by major disappointments (sound familiar?) if having such a devotion to a team makes me feel as if I have some true connection, if not ownership of the wins, the losses, the owners, and coaches, and especially, the guys dressed in burgundy and gold who play the game. A few years ago I vowed never to buy another jersey again (with the exception of Riggo, Darrell, Sonny, Sam, etc, but you get the idea) because the names on the jersey’s I owned eventually played for other teams.
I never felt that way about Sean. I guess I didn’t know how to feel about the guy other than I loved the way he played. He was old school. Ask Butkus if anything that Sean did in the past few years would have garnered a fine when he played. Ask anyone if Sean intentionally tried to put the “prince” or quarterback out of the game. He built a reputation with the NFL by missing a rookie symposium. He probably got fined more because of his reputation than his actions. He did spit in the dude’s face. He did that in a game that he scored a touchdown – a strange paradox. He had some growing to do. Any man over the age of 30 reading this right now, just assimilate your own experience. Did you do some stupid things at that age? If you were being monitored by 30 cameras and a group of referees, would you have been found innocent? Do you hold yourself to the same standard you do professional athletes, including Sean Taylor? Please. It’s so easy for all of us to judge. In fact, that judgment is what allows us to make sense of tragedy. …Sean Taylor was all caught up with the thug life….blah, blah, blah,….why the hell are so many people, who have never met the guy, much less heard him speak, lining up to light a candle and try to make sense of it?
This isn’t about the NFL exactly, although the NFL has certainly capitalized on it.
We (some of us) choose to identify ourselves and ally ourselves based on our football team. (People hate the Cowboys, Yankees, Raiders, and Duke BB, because people who have never stepped foot in the state where those teams play, much less gone to a game, claim them as their own.) Those of us who claim our own (home town), sometimes (if not often) flawed and failed teams, who suffer through the lengthy droughts (Boston, you should, but may not identify), take pride in the devotion.