Sunday Jan 18, 2008
The Skins have just won a birth in the Super Bowl (against the Steelers) by defeating the Cardinals 27-21. I have texted, emailed, and called every person I have a way of contacting to discuss the game and the Super Bowl. I go on to say “Hail to the Redskins,” we’re going to the Super Bowl,” and “F-yeah” a thousand times this night. After everyone stops corresponding with me, I sit alone in my chair drinking a beer, reflecting upon my Skins. I am proud.

Monday Jan 19 - Monday Jan 26

The week was spent networking with all my contacts (I have none) to try and secure Super Bowl tickets. General Motors comes thru with 2 club seats to the big game (because it’s my dream, and in my dream the auto industry is rockin!) An executive who works for the NFL really likes my blog, and secures me a press pass for media day as well as the Gridiron Greats dinner. Try, try, try as I may, I cannot score Maxim party passes.

Tuesday Jan 27 - Media Day

I know I need to stand out, so I dress myself in a giant pickle costume. I have the word “FAT” painted across my pickle chest. Portis asks to borrow my costume for a future interview. I see the sportscaster George Michael, and tell him it’s good to see him again. He must not recognize me in my pickle costume. “George, I’m the guy who always tells you that you were awesome in Silence of the Lambs.” I ask some F’ed up questions to the Skins and Steelers, some are answered, others get me an inch away from getting my ass beat. I somehow talk Troy Polamalu into letting me cut off a lock of his hair.

Wednesday Jan 28 - Gridiron Greats

I’m here at the Hard Rock Casino with 100 of the greatest players of all time. I’m in awe, and this dinner is for an awesome cause. My pickle costume is put away, and my questions are honest and sincere. The dinner is buffet style, and as I approach the buffet, so is Michael Irvin. In one fluid motion, I nudge Irvin to the side, button hook, and while shielding him, grab a plate. Michael is so impressed by this “offensive pass interference,” he invites me to be on his reality show. I win and I must go to training camp with the Cowboys, where I show flashes of being a 35 yr old Tim Dwight. Ultimately I am cut, but not before I photocopy the playbook and turn it over to the Redskins.