By Ken Denlinger
Washington Post Staff Writer
Monday, January 2, 1984; Page A1

"Kind of our day," Coach Joe Gibbs said. Which is how the Sioux offensive coordinator might have put Little Big Horn if he'd wanted his guys to avoid the big head. Or what the Democrats could have said to Alf Landon. Or what Secretariat and Ron Turcotte could have whinnied at the eighth pole of the '73 Belmont Stakes.

"Kind of our day" yesterday was kind of how it went for the Redskins the last time they played these same Rams, six weeks ago in Anaheim. The greatest runner O.J. Simpson said he's ever seen was flogged by a gang of tacklers most NFL fans cannot name; the only time the Redskins were stopped in the first half was when they chose to stop themselves, on fourth and inches.

"Lots of times we're surprised at how well we play," linebacker Rich Milot said. "We try and keep things in perspective. But 51-7!"

That was the score yesterday. Think about it. Veteran Redskin watchers have seen boring football, but this is ridiculous. We may well be witnessing the greatest point machine in the history of the NFL. This collection of Hogs and Smurfs and TV commentators, the fullback with the style of Nagurski and flair of Nijinsky and the quarterback who has never met an endorsement he didn't like all give that impression.

The Redskins broke the league regular-season scoring record by 28 points, then took a week off and clobbered the outfit that laid the Cowboys to rest in the playoffs by 44. Read a prophetic sign even before kickoff: "Thanks . . . for the Lamb Chops for our Hogs."

Two games against a team that was 9-7 in the regular season and the Redskins have won by 93-27. How come?

"The matchups are great for us," Milot said. "Their strength is rushing; ours is rushing defense. They [the Rams] do a good job at controlling the line; Mel [Kaufman] and I do, too."

The tone was established very early and very firmly, when Joe Jacoby took advantage of a 100-pound mismatch and belted one of the NFL's extraordinary athletes, safety Nolan Cromwell, at least 10 yards upfield during a John Riggins sweep. The awesomely anonymous Todd Liebenstein versus Eric Dickerson seemed a mismatch — the Redskins' way. Did Johnnie Johnson miss the team plane?

"It's like when we played against the Steelers in the '70s," admitted Ram graybeard Jack Youngblood. "The Redskins are in that position now. They're hot. They have a confidence that just makes things happen differently for them."

Such as Charlie Brown leaping between two defenders and grabbing what seemed a doomed Joe Theismann pass in the second quarter, such as Don Warren fumbling and the ball conveniently rolling out of bounds, such as Nick Giaquinto returning a punt 48 yards.

Nick GiaWHATo? anyone beyond the Beltway might inquire.

"He's in my speed class," the notorious slowpoke, Mark Murphy, said. "I'm gonna set up a three-man race: me, Nick and Tom Landry."

Also, has a groundskeeper ever gotten a game ball? Poor Dickerson and LeRoy Irvin were slip-slidin' all over the RFK tundra. Had their footing been better, the Rams might have kept it close. Say, 38-7.

So what degree of dominance does this horde deserve? Hall of Famer Sam Huff replied with a question of his own: "Has there ever been a team with one all-pro at every position? You've got [Jeff] Bostic at center and [Russ] Grimm at guard, Jacoby at tackle, Brown at end, Theismann at quarterback and [John] Riggins at fullback [on offense].

You've got [Dave] Butz on the defensive line, Rich Milot at linebacker (who's an all-pro the all-pro voters just don't know about yet), Murphy in the secondary, [Mike] Nelms as a kick returner and [Mark] Moseley as a kicker."

And Gibbs and his staff as all-pro thinkers.

That's some neat meat for the league to digest. Did Vince Lombardi unfetter such stars in Green Bay? Or Paul Brown in Cleveland? Or Don Shula in Baltimore or Miami? Or Chuck Noll in Pittsburgh? Or Tom Osborne at Nebraska?

Redskin coaches are so prepared they even anticipated scribes and other feeble minds rushing to grand conclusions prematurely.

"As coach [Joe] Bugel says, 'It's the Communists pattin' you on the back, tellin' you how good you are,'" said George Starke. "'You've got to shrug it off and walk away. One day, somebody's gonna stick you under the chin and you're not gonna be great anymore.'"

Comrades Huff, Youngblood and I will risk embarrassment next week. Washingtonians as thrilled as they are awed will also. Accepting the 49ers for the NFC championship game here is tough for a town with its mind set on the Cowboys. Anticipation yesterday was dull compared to a year ago.

When victory over the Vikings was assured last postseason, the stands behind the visitor's bench quivered, wavelike, as a sea of fans jumped and chanted: "We want Dallas . . . We want Dallas." The Redskins got 'em last year and destroyed 'em this year.

Nobody was in a "we-want-Frisco" mood yesterday, because nearly everyone had seen the Niners barely escape the limp Lions Saturday.

"Soon to be like the year before," a sign more brash than hopeful read.

The giddiest of the faithful was preparing a list of what to bring next week: banners, mittens, mufflers — and a good book for the second half.

Gibbs was preparing a fright talk for his players. Sure enough, lucky fellow, he has a theme: the last time the teams played, two years ago here, the later-to-be-world champs made the Redskins seem like chumps, 30-17. As Youngblood suggests, things go differently for the Redskins. They have better players for a game they need to take another step up Legend Mountain — and Gibbs can make 'em feel mortal.