Expect a Ghost Town by Sunset

'Redskins Effect' Causes Eerie Calm

John Woodfolk, right, with Candey Hardware Store manager Bill Reed, said, "You just don't see anybody on the streets" during Redskins games. (By Linda Davidson -- The Washington Post)

The trash blows past the hardware store like tumbleweed and the men inside speak of a "ghost town." Imagine: a crisp clear Sunday, pregnant with possibilities for cabinet repair, deck sanding, maybe a new nail gun, and yet, there are no customers. And this, dead center in the nation's capital.

"It's amazing," said John Woodfolk, 64, behind the key counter at W.J. Candey Hardware, two blocks from Dupont Circle. "You just don't see anybody on the streets."

Woodfolk is describing a phenomenon that some call the "Redskins Effect": that trance-like state of calm that descends on the region when hundreds of thousands of eyes are staring at football. Today, at 4:45 p.m. -- kickoff of the Washington Redskins' first playoff game in six years -- expect many area residents to retreat en masse to their dwellings or sports bars. Outside, life will continue, but according to those who've lived it, the pace will be quite different.

"When it's a home game, we're losing 60 percent of our business; it's really something," said Brewster Bassett, the head teaching professional at the Bull Run Country Club in Haymarket, who has watched his fairways regularly bleed golfers at game time. "It's a funny effect. I kept on asking the general manager, 'What's going on here?' And he said: 'Football.' "

At 84 Lumber in Clinton, salesman Matt McLean said three or four customers will walk in during a typical Redskins game. On days without a game, that number would be more like 20, he said. As for today's playoff game, McLean said the effect on fans is "a lot bigger deal now."

The general manager at a Giant supermarket in Silver Spring -- who asked not to be named because such armchair anthropology is not smiled on by corporate -- compared the Redskins Effect to a mountain range with three peaks and two valleys:

First the pregame rush for chips and dip, beer and party platters, then the game time lull, followed by a second spike at halftime ("Halftime is re-load time"), then a second-half drought and finally a postgame rush. The manager also noted that the proportion of female shoppers rises during the game:

"They want to get out of the house, out of sight; they don't want to see it."

Brandy Wynn can attest to this. She contributes to what could be called the "Reverse Redskins Effect," where people wait for football games to hit the stores.

"My husband's a super, super Redskins fan. I can say that when I go to the mall -- Pentagon City, PG Plaza or Tysons -- it's not as crowded," said Wynn, 35, who works at Godiva Chocolatier on Connecticut Avenue NW and lives in the District. "But that's why I go. It's just not as crowded. Everyone knows that."

Wynn finds these outings liberating, and not just because of the thin crowds. Speaking of her husband, and husbands in general, she said:

"They don't care; they'll tell you to go and spend whatever. Normally, they'll go, 'Oh, honey, you've got to stick with the budget. Let's do this.' But when it's football season, you can get those extra shoes, you can get that extra outfit or even slip on a little piece of jewelry. They don't care, as long as you take the kids."