Burgundy and scold: Redskins fans let Snyder know how they feel

"I think the relentless negative coverage in The Washington Post is a real difference from previous years," Redskins COO David Donovan said, in a quote that seems to grow in majesty with each passing day and that I'll one day get tattooed on my sternum so I can just look down and type instead of copy and pasting. "But in terms of the way our actual fans are behaving, we don't see any difference."

And from there, let's go to local restaurateur and lifelong actual Redskins fan Alan Pohoryles.

"We feel like the only way we'll really get our voices heard by upper management is to stage a walkout against our biggest rival at FedEx Field, and let the owner know we're not going to stand for it any more," Poho told me on Wednesday afternoon.

Maybe you know Poho as the owner of Tommy Joe's in Bethesda. But now, meet him as the founder of RFADS. Yeah, you guessed it, Redskins Fans Against Daniel Snyder.

In a moment of particular angst before the home game against the Chiefs, he decided to do something, founding this RFADS Facebook group and sending the invitation to about 80 friends. Before the 4 o'clock games were over, he was adding 150 or 200 members an hour. By the start of Sunday Night Football that week, when Jim Zorn was stripped of his play-calling duties, the group had 1,200 members. As I type, it's passed 9,500 members. Poho figures at this pace, he could have 20,000 members by the Dec. 27 Dallas game.

"There's definitely something going on," he told me, conjuring up images of Buffalo Springfield. "When I started it, I didn't have any of this in mind. But once it took off, I realized that maybe we can make a difference."

That's how every movement starts, right? And that led to the idea of the walkout. The general concept is not unlike the one hatched by unhappy Cleveland Browns fans: you go to the Dallas game as usual, stand for the national anthem as always, and then split. Watch it from the parking lot. Have a grand old time. Visit that Wendy's that I always stop at on my way home. Just don't sit inside the stadium.

Poho figures if he can get some more publicity and some more members and some more media, it wouldn't be impossible to get 10,000 or 20,000 fans to leave the building.

"We're doing it to prove a point," Poho said. "Just to tell him look, we're frustrated, we're tired of it. I appreciate the fact that he's a fan, but I'm a fan, which doesn't qualify me to run a football team. . . . If we can get a walkout, get some publicity, maybe that will hit him where it hurts, in the wallet, because that's the only way we can force him to make a change."

Every day now, I get e-mailed stories like Poho's, actual fans who tell me how long they've had tickets, which legendary games they've seen, which Super Bowls they watched in person. Poho's dad has been a season ticket holder since Griffith Stadium; as a 38-year-old, he himself lived through the glory years. And now, he's fed up.

"I have people thanking me," he said with a laugh. "I'm like, 'Look, I just created the venue.' Who am I to be the leader of this revolution? But I've gotten so into it, because people are so behind it. I don't even know, it's just a great place for people to vent. People want to make a difference somehow."