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  We're Doin' Fine on Cloud 9 (And 0)

By Tony Kornheiser
Washington Post Columnist
Tuesday, November 5, 1991; Page E01

Tony KornheiserBandwagon. Bandwagon. Bandwagon. Bandwagon. Bandwagon.

Nice pick, Bushman, I hope you're proud of yourself. You'll never wear a Hog-Snout in this city again.

Whew. Are we talking scary, or what?

I don't want to say that the wheels almost came off, but on the Redskins' sideline they were using the headsets to dial the AAA.

"Aww, we were just trying to keep the TV audience and the fans excited," Mark Adickes said.

Let's be honest. It's a tie score. There are four seconds to go. The ball's sitting on the 16-yard line. The Oilers are lined up for a totally gimme field goal. Chip Lohmiller hits these puppies with his left foot, for heaven's sake; why do you think they call 'em "chip shots"? The Redskins have already fumbled three times and been intercepted once. Naturally, Coach "Joe" Gibbs, the Doyen of Doom, admitted, "It looked bleak." So raise your hand if you truly believed Ian "Have Resume, Must Travel" Howfield would miss.

What? You did, Russ?

"Absolutely," Grimm said.

You too, John Brandes?

"We knew the guy was shaky," Brandes said.

And you, Charles?

"He missed three extra points last week, and he barely got the one to make it 13-13 against us," Mann said.

Of course The Bandwagon wants to warmly welcome aboard the newly unemployed Mr. Howfield and his obedient holder, Greg Montgomery, who didn't spin the laces away because Howfield doesn't like the holder to spin the ball. (The explanation for Howfield's idiosyncracy can be found in chapter two of his upcoming book, "Wide Left.")

For the benefit of Mr. Montgomery, who keeps his eyes glued to the ground, and for The Bushman, a turncoat who lives rent-free in our fair city and then has the nerve to root against his friends and neighbors, we present our weekly review, now seasonally adjusted for this lousy Republican economy:

Most points (well, in the NFC anyway; Buffalo just passed Washington -- but only because the Bills get to play all those AFC East turkeys).

Most shutouts (still).

Most plus-minus, 156. (Their differential is higher than the total points scored by 13 teams. It's 95 higher than the alleged Indianapolis Colts, which leads us to this week's Venturi Update: Rick "Won't You Please Give Me A Hint?" Venturi, now cruising toward 1-39-1. Colts have yet to get a touchdown for him in four games. Venturi has taken out a $5 million life insurance policy on Dean Biasucci.)

The 1927 Yankees.

Right now we want to welcome new passengers to The Bandwagon. Please greet "Doubting" Thomas Boswell, now firmly in an aisle seat; Row U, for undefeated. (To make room for Chairman Boz, Mike "That Toddlin' Town" Wilbon was waived to WGN. We hope to reacquire him when the Bulls come to town.) A hearty welcome to Oilers fan Melanie Moskowitz, who bet me lunch that Houston would beat the Redskins; better bring your American Express card, Melanie, they don't call me "John Williams" for nothing. (Speaking of "Hot Plate" Williams, there is no room for him on The Bandwagon. The last thing we want is that guy getting on at 305 and cracking an axle.) A fond welcome to Linda Ittner, who writes that "the Redskins are awesome," and to David C. Viar, who writes, "The reason that I do not enjoy football in this area is you and your sportswriter and sportscaster ilk who spend every waking moment glorifying the Washington Redskins." My ilk? Davey, Davey, Davey, do you want to be on The Bandwagon, or under it like Joe Krivak? These last few weeks I've had a lot of people stop me on the street, or sidle over to me in traffic, and say, "I'm on The Bandwagon too." That's great. But if you want me to mention your name in an upcoming column, you have to bring me gifts. This isn't the Red Cross.

Don't worry if you miss The Bandwagon. Here, in the City Of Champions (now stop that!), there are motorized win-mobiles coming around every few minutes. I can't call them Bandwagons because The Bandwagon is a registered trademark with Anthony I. Kornheiser, but you know about the Capitals' Zamboni Convoy. Now -- and talk about getting out of Dr. Kevorkian's van in the nick of time -- here comes Le Grand Bus de Les Boulez. They're 2-0? Not only didn't the Bullets win a single exhibition game, they barely scored in most of them. NBA? Most people thought their home opener would be against the Albany Patroons. So now, they're led by Michael "I Don't Wanna Be Like Mike, I Am Like Mike" Adams, averaging 48 points, 24 assists and 485 steals a game. Please, don't pinch me. Ride on, you Magnifique Boulez.

You know, Tony, I feel sorry for you. It's like being in a Jean-Paul Sartre play. You're trapped by your own smarmy cleverness now. The Redskins won't ever lose, and your punishment is you'll have to write this stupid column for the rest of your life. So, we'll give you a final request, as we would for a condemned man.

Okay, I want to be in the Hall of Stars like my dad, Mo Siegel. And I want private, indoor parking for The Bandwagon on the Squire's alley.

I can hear The Detractors now. They're bleating like sheep: You got lucky against Houston. Lucky? "I prefer to think we're prepared for the opportunity," said the incisive Terry Orr. And Wilber Marshall added, "We held the team with the third most points in the whole league to 13. You tell me if that's lucky." Anyway, The Bandwagon is an equal opportunity vehicle. It accepts luck as well as skill -- the way the Giants did last year when Scott Norwood's miss gave them the Super Bowl.

Before we convene this week's meeting of the Coach "Joe" Gibbs San Andreas Fault And Loma Prieta Orchestra and Jerry Glanville's "Leave Two For Evans And Novak" Pit Bull Chorale, let's get up to date on travel plans for Minneapolis. As you know the city was hit by a freak 28-inch snowstorm on Saturday. (It's a freak, because by November they're usually getting the routine 45-incher.) The Bandwagon has adopted this as its official Super Bowl bumper sticker: "We Brake For Snow Plows, Foraging Moose and Burnsey."

© Copyright 1991 The Washington Post Company

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