As much as I do rant about sports, I feel like I’ve never actually ranted like I do in real life. This is going to change.

I love the Redskins. Everyone that follows this knows this, but I don’t think they know why. The Redskins represent my home. That’s first and foremost. But that’s not nearly all of it. The first memory I have, like, the very first memory I have is watching the Bills/Skins super-bowl, being fucking ecstatic and running around my house afterwards putting little stickers everywhere with the score, and WASHINGTON REDSKINS WIN. But that’s even still the start of it.

My grandmother was even more a radical Redskin fan than I am now, and that was all I had with her. She was bedridden, sick, and crazy. She would get mad that I, at 5, couldn’t go buy her cigarettes. I thought she was crazy, and most of the time I hated her. Even my parents did. But come sunday? My crazy grandma (mom’s mom,) my dad, and I sat at watched games. That’s it. We had the Redskins.

My grandmother died. They do that. Still, the only real thing my father and I have is Washington sports. We are nothing alike. He hates most of my decisions, but we still find time to watch the games. We still talk sports all the time. If non sports fans don’t understand why sports are so important to me by now, then god bless them. The Redskins still to me represent everything that I love about my home, my family, my passions, and everything.

I hate football as a sport. I really do. It’s fucking boring, they play 15 minutes out of 60. It’s shitty. Yet still, the Redskins are my favorite local team. Easily.