Baking is Therapeutic

Shortly after Shaun Suisham's onside kick attempt bounced out of bounds -- and the Redskins' meager playoff hopes along with it -- I whipped up some icing for the gingerbread cookies I made before the game and went to town. (It seemed like a better idea than downing the entire case of Miller Lite someone brought to our Halloween party and crushing the empties with my face.)

One hour -- or the approximate length of the Bengals' final scoring drive -- later, I had completely forgotten that I had just spent a good portion of my day watching the Redskins make Cedric Benson look like a pot-smoking Jim Brown.

Here are Clinton Portis and Jason Campbell. Why are they smiling, you ask? Because they're gingerbread cookies.



Here are Carlos Rogers and Shaun "Golden Foot" Suisham. Rogers, you will be happy to know, underwent successful hand amputation surgery. Why are his feet black? Because he got burned. Why is Suisham frowning? Because even gingerbread cookies frown after booting kickoffs out of bounds. If Suisham gets cut, Ryan Plackemeier would be happy to eat him. And for the record, Rogers' hands taste better than they catch.

Off With His Hands!

I don't know how Carlos Rogers spent his bye week, but he would've been well served spending at least a few minutes browsing this site if he didn't drop his laptop first. Yes, 'Los has emerged as the Redskins' best corner this season. Yes, he's been solid in coverage and he's laid the wood to a few dudes. And yes, he's played remarkably well one year removed from serious knee surgery. But good gosh almighty, the guy can't catch a ball to save his freaking life! I suppose that's why he's not a wide receiver -- or a fireman. Can you imagine the horror of being trapped on the fifth floor of a burning building and looking out the window to find Carlos Rogers at the end of a ladder one floor below screaming "jump"?

The solution to Rogers' problem? Amputate his hands. If it sounds ridiculous, that's because it is. Ridiculously brilliant. If Rogers can't catch with hands, then removing them is no big loss, right? Rogers' hands are kind of like the human tailbone, evolutionary remnants that serve no real purpose. Without hands, Rogers would never be called for holding and he'd be forced to improve his technique. Win-win. People would also no longer curse Rogers when he dropped an interception because, well, that would just be wrong. I mean, the guy wouldn't have any hands.

An Open Letter to Carlos Rogers

Dear Carlos,

Heck of an interception, man. Nice return, too. The Redskins couldn’t have won yesterday without you. You know all those nasty things I’ve said about you recently, comparing your hands to those of Chubs in Happy Gilmore and whatnot? Well, I think I probably, uh, kind of, owe you – hold on.

I think you cemented your reputation in my mind as having cement hands back in ’06. You were in Seattle, playing the Seahawks in the second-round of the playoffs after an improbable run to the postseason and a win over Tampa Bay the week before. You guys were up 3-0 in the second quarter, the Qwest Field fans were unusually quiet, and they were about to be reduced to silence. Matt Hasselbeck dropped back to pass and eyed Maurice Morris in the flat. You, playing Cover 2, read the play like a book and jumped the route, nothing but daylight – light rain, really – between you and the end zone. You were about to go ahead 10-0, on the road, in the playoffs. Strike up the band, Hail to the Redskins, this magical streak was going to continue. But you dropped the ball, Seattle eventually scored a touchdown on the drive, and you never led again.

“I had it in my hands, for a second,” you told reporters after the game. Little did anyone know at the time that those words would define the first few years of your career. You were abysmal in 2006 and sadly blew out your knee last year. If only you had torn three ligaments in one of your hands, you wouldn’t have had to miss any time because, well, you don’t use them anyway. You worked hard in rehab during the offseason, though, and it was good to see you back on the field against the Giants in Week 1. Until, that is, Eli Manning decided to pick on you and I wished you were on the sideline. To your credit, you bounced back and played well the following week against the Saints.

And then there was yesterday. The interception, with the assist by Leigh Torrence, was a thing of beauty. As the tipped ball fluttered into your hands – and (gasp!) stayed there – Redskins fans at the bar where I was watching shot up out of their seats. Two guys in front of me knocked over the same bottle of beer twice while slapping hands during the ensuing celebration, a fitting display if there ever was one after an interception by you!

So what I was trying to say, ‘Los, is that I shouldn’t have been so quick to compare you to Edward Scissorhands. You’re more like Roberto Duran. But seriously, I hope you savor the win, rest up, and watch a lot of video of Patrick Crayton. And Carlos? I'm finally confident you won't drop the remote.

Sincerely,
Scott

[Photo: The Washington Times]