Game Girl

Have I mentioned recently that being a Redskin fan can sometimes be hard work?  It really can.  (No, this post isn't about RG3's concussion.  I just can't face that drama right now, so I'm going to pretend the issue isn't looming over all of us like a ton of bricks just waiting to wreck our season.  I prefer to stick my head in the sand and pray that the recently-tightened NFL concussion rules will bring Griffin back ASAP.  Emphasis on the S - SOON!)

In any event, back to things being hard for us Skins fans.  Especially when you live in an area that is sort of muddled, fan-wise, like I do.  Yesterday, I faced one of those situations that had me thanking my lucky stars my DVR had been pre-set.

I took my kids to a party in Baltimore, fully expecting the Raven's game to be on the main TV and the majority of the guests watching the game.  Fine, no sweat.  I can manage, right?  I'll just slip down to the basement, where the "other" TV is, and join the group of dudes gathering down there to watch what I assume will be the Redskins game. 

Guess what?  It wasn't the Skins game they were watching.  It was the Eagles/Steelers game.

Crap. 

So, I had a couple of choices.  Stay in the basement and pretend to care about the Pennsylvania bowl.  Head back upstairs to the main level where the Ravens are involved in a very boring defensive game against the hapless but feisty Chiefs.  Race to my car and try to grab the occasional update from Sonny and Sam's broadcast.  Or just give up and wait until I got home to watch the game on DVR.

I was so distracted and annoyed by those dudes in the basement I wanted to scream.  I mean, the Ravens thing I understood.  But who put the Eagles' fans in charge of the other TV?  Why did THEY get to decide to hog the downstairs TV like they owned the damn thing, when there were clearly at least one or two Redskins fans who wanted to see the game? 

I am happy to report I managed to control myself and stay calm.  I didn't get obnoxious with the downstairs guys.  Nope, I even tried to cheer them up (sort-of) when Vick kept fumbling the ball, time and time again.  I was polite.  Affable.  Not even a HINT of rudeness.

I suppose I could have asked to change the channel, but I'm not sure I would have been very effective or convincing.  Trying to get a bunch of dudes watching football to take a woman like me seriously can be diffcult indeed.  And with Eagles fans, well, it could have been downright dangerous.

So, I suffered in semi-silence, made my excuses, and headed home in time to catch Redskins Postgame Live.

Next time, I'll know to stake my claim a little earlier!