Styched Fieldtrip: Redskins Victorious Edition

This is a little late, thanks to a massive amount of beer imbibed over the course of Sunday afternoon. Starting around 11 in the morning upon our arrival in the Purple Lot, until around 6 in the evening, hours after the bizarre finish, the celebration maintained the fame. But, of course, there was reason to celebrate! The Cowgirls were in town, the Redskins were (are) struggling, and we had amazing seats to the game, thanks to a friend with a strong sense of decency and a mother with insanely good season tickets:

These stupid advertisements for The Dan's threesome of static that soothes the Washington area awaited us when we got to our awesome seats. Front row, suckah! Someone in the Skins' marketing department came up with this clever slogan, written on the sign with a Sharpee. Get it? We're in DC! Politics! Big election coming up! Alliteration! Perhaps the Snyder-Cruise marriage has also resulted in the acquisition of a troup of rejected Jimmy Kimmel Live writers. On the plus side, no surface is left untouched when it comes to the marketing machine that is the Washington Redskins under Mr. Snyder's leadership. The back of this sign? How would you like a little Easterns Motors with your Redskins radio? Ah, yes... Easterns - just what Washingtonians living below the poverty line with no credit need.

Note the score:

Note the cheerleader:

Oh yeah, and some football was played too.

The Duke was quite distracted for all of the 4th quarter, despite the intense football game going on in the background. Rocky thinks this might be becoming a problem, noting that a bit of a pattern is emerging.

Ah, Señor Novak. How we hated ye back when ye played for the Maryland Turtles. Times do change, eh, Nick? Keep warming up, my man, because I have a feeling we'll need you again, despite the fact that you just missed that field goal that would have given us a 4th quarter lead.

Moments before von Vincent's miraculous block.

Uhm, 0:00 on the clock, score tied at 19 all, hot cheerleaders standing in the foreground, action occurring at the opposite end of the field, and six straight hours of boozing... needless to say, we have no idea what's going on right now.

Ah, victory is sweet.

Eh, the stats? Not so much. Let's just say that Tony Romo, despite the loss (and our repeated chants of "ROOOOOO-MOOOOOOOO! ROOOOOOO-MOOOOOO!") still has some job security.

You mess with the bull, you get the horns. And you rush the field after everyone has exited the stadium, you look like a jackass, and you get carried off in a headlock. Actually, this guy's buddy gave the FedEx field security a run for their money.

The final score:

What? This was next to our tailgate all along?

Howie Long is a large man.

Curt Menefee is a VERY large man.

Ah, Howie. We really do think you're actually a pretty good guy, despite Firestorm. Give us a smile. That's the spirit.

Who is that balding, bloated, pale woman who's just taken the set? Oh, dear God. Tom Brady, is this really what you have to look forward to?

Aaaaaand... ACTION! Terry pulls out the ol' half-lens reading glasses and gets to work reading through the day's highlights...

... and the Duke suspects that his ride back to DC has left without him. He must leave the Fox NFL Sunday Visa Halftime Report, along with the ecstatic Washington crowd and the stunned Dallas fans.