Dear God, don’t let this story about Washington fans defending the “Redskins” name be about my relatives.
I know we don’t talk much god, and I pretty much deny your existence on a daily basis (and if you do exist, I believe you are an indifferent god, which is pretty much the same thing as you not existing), but just in the off-chance you’re out there, don’t let this next link I click be about my relatives.
As you may know — or not, I cannot even begin to imagine what your schedule is like — my cousin married into a family with Washington season tickets. They seem like nice people from my limited interactions with them, but they are diehard Washington fans, and with that, still use the R-word as if they were ordering a type of pizza or a new Ford truck. I guess that makes sense since the R-word is sold like a commodity to describe a particular type of football, but deep down it’s based on a terrible human slur and I’d like to think if you are maybe an “interested in humanity” god, you’d think that’s no way to go through life, using names that are an insult to others.
Do you have embarrassing relatives, god? I mean, we all do to some extent and if we were made in your image, I’m betting you have a few of of your own. Maybe you have a sister in Ursa Minor, who knows maybe she is Ursa Minor, but a sister who drinks too much at New Millennium Eve’s parties and then yaks all over the place and not in a conveniently placed black hole, or an uncle who brings up how back in his day the void was so much more peaceful without all these galaxies getting in his way. Don’t you just want to get through the day without having to wonder if you’ll stumble upon something stupid they did, like invent platypuses or leave behind a half-completed planet like Pluto? This is sort of where I’m at here, god.
I’d even be cool if it turned out that they launched the Hoggettes 2.0 or worse, voted Republican, but if turns out they’re actively defending the name, how am I supposed to explain this to my friends? God, I just don’t want to click on this link and see them and their beautiful smiling baby with a giant R-word scrunchie on their newborn head. My cousin comes from a good family like I’m sure you do — very loving, the whole lot of us, truly — accepting of all colors, creeds and sexual orientations, so how do they not see it?
As you can tell, I’m pretty worried about this one, god. My cousin has a terrific job, a great spouse and an adorable child. The new family seems really nice and accepting of our family, which is all you can hope for when different groups come together. They all seem like such smart, reasonable people who have gone totally astray on this issue and I worry that someday, I’m going to go to read a story about Washington fans still using the R-word and I’m going to see a picture of them.
I know maybe if we were tighter I could have a conversation directly with my cousin about this topic, but you know how it is. We were separated by distance and age as kids and don’t have the type of relationship where we can just openly say such things to each other without some sort of family drama, so it’s easier to be polite and not bring such things up when we do talk. Maybe you don’t bring up the platypus thing with Ursa Minor either.
So this is my prayer before I double-tap this link with my right index finger in the off-chance you exist and you’re listening, god. Let this be about another family, or better yet, let this be a link that says Dan Snyder has finally seen the error of his unbudging ways; piano dropped on his head, peyote while camping in Joshua Tree, forced by the NFL and has changed the name. Whatever it takes god, you’re the one who works in mysterious ways if you are in fact an involved god who exists. Maybe now would be a good time to do whatever it is you do if you happen to be around.