It’s All Fun & Games Until You Get Drafted By The Redskins | Roy Helu, Jr

Story by Roy Helu, Jr. 

| Published Sep 6, 2011

Red is a wonderful color, isn’t it? I’m sure you all remember me, in my red jersey, running through defenses toward the endzones of Memorial Stadium. A red streak, a red blur; call it what you will, I was truly poetry in motion. I had fun, I enjoyed my teammates, I enjoyed the games. I even enjoyed the coaches. But above all, I enjoyed making my fans and myself happy.

And, as NFL Draft day approached, I had visions. Visions of my red-clad self playing for Kansas City, in Arizona, or maybe even for the Bills. They have a little bit of red in their jersey. All I really wanted was to uphold a standard of decency for myself. Maybe I could even make my parents and my alma mater proud.

All good fantasies, though, must come to an end eventually, which I knew and accepted. I did not, however, envision mine being terminated with such a cruel and vengeful efficiency. As commissioner Goodell stepped up to the podium he and I locked eyes. Mine: bright, youthful and optimistic. His: dead, cold, and burning. And as his mouth formed the word “Redskins,” I swear I could see the very corners turn up into a small smile. He knew what he was doing, and he loved it.

But what could I do? Though everyone knows it is impossible to bring pride to the color red in a Redskins uniform, what choice did I have? The best I could do was to grin and bear it.

So, as the lockout wore to a close, I prepared myself for the rigors of NFL life. Not the physical aspect, mind you, which I was excited to resume. But the mental anguish of playing for a team that is the very definition of mediocre required quite a bit of emotional preparation.

Do not weep for me, dear Husker fans. If you’re brave, I’ll let you in on the secret that has pushed me through the past six months, and will hopefully sustain me through this season: life sometimes acts in unexpected and cruel ways. Just try your hardest, if that’s all you can do. Leave it up to the coaches and owner to drive the team into the ground.

Go Big Red.