The vocal, critical Philadelphia fans let their feelings be known during Sunday's matchup between two teams with 0-5 records. (Rusty Kennedy - AP)

By Blaine Harden
and Ellen Nakashima
Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, October 12, 1998; Page A1

PHILADELPHIA, Oct. 11 – "Listen, you, life isn't always a football game," Frederick Exley wrote in "A Fan's Notes." "Life is rejection and pain and loss."

Football imitated life here on a sun-dappled afternoon, as the Washington Redskins lost for the sixth straight time, moved to the undisputed bottom of the National Football League and transported their fans to the dark side of despair.

In a game between two previously winless teams, a game that fans in both cities dubbed the Toilet Bowl, not only did the Redskins lose, they lost ugly. A sign here in Veterans Stadium announced at the beginning of the game: "May The Worst Team Lose."

It did.

Setting the futile tone in the first quarter, starting quarterback Trent Green fell down untouched in the backfield. A play later he fumbled to set up the Eagles' first touchdown. On the next series, running back Terry Allen punctuated a long drive by fumbling the ball into the end zone.

Like an oily skin cream that won't wash off, the stain of losing – of habitual losing – was smeared this afternoon on the faces of Washington's players, coaches and the thousand or so fans who had traveled here to suffer on a fine October day.

Coach Norv Turner, whose job security plummets with each loss, was asked after the game whether his team has forgotten how to win.

"Well," Turner sighed, "when you are struggling, it gets harder and harder to win."

Dana Stubblefield, the high-priced defensive tackle whom the Redskins signed as a free agent this year, spoke after the game of "stupid mistakes."

"I don't know what the answer is," he said, his face blank with hopelessness.

As for the Redskins fans, they alternated between rage and resignation, demands for Turner's head and depressed confusion.

"We're pitiful. We're pitiful. We're pitiful. This is the first year I have ever been ashamed to be a Redskin fan," said Kevin Ivey, 27, of Forestville, who seemed on the verge of tears as the game sank out of sight in the fourth quarter.

Larry Beckler, 51, a financial consultant from Fairfax, spoke here today in semi-apocalyptic language about the meaning of losing.

"The stamp of reality and finality is setting in. We can't even beat a team that is 0 and 5," Beckler said.

He said these words – he had utterly given up – even before the first kickoff.

As bad as it seemed, the 17-12 loss today did not set a record for Redskins losing. That came in 1961 when Washington lost its first nine games of the year. But the pain caused by the Redskins' failure this year somehow cuts more deeply.

It seems to be shredding the pride and sense of common endeavor that Washingtonians have long felt in connection with a team that in the 1980s was consistently fighting for division championships and winning Super Bowls.

Two fans show their displeasure at the dismal performances of the Eagles and the Redskins, during Philadelphia's 17-12 win Sunday. (AP Photo)

"I've never been associated with losers and I don't intend to be now," said Vince Lombardi when he showed up at Green Bay. His Packers teams compiled a phenomenal regular season record of 89-29-4 and won nine of 10 playoff games.

To his players, Lombardi said: "There are trains, buses and planes leaving Green Bay every day. And if you are a loser, you can be on the next one out of here."

Losing, in fact, was a subject Lombardi hated to talk about. Winning comes from confidence and leadership, Lombardi said.

"You just have it. It is not something you get, you have to have it right here in your belly."

That something in the belly is something that neither Washington nor Philadelphia has had this season, neither the players nor the fans.

The week before the game, in Washington and Philadelphia, was soured by the apathy, bitterness and sense of impending doom that was featured in the game itself.

Summing up the negativity that infected both cities last week, Steve Weber, an accountant from Columbia who owns Redskins season tickets, said:

"I was hoping for a nothing-nothing tie with lots of injuries."

Across the NFL, in cities where teams make a habit of defeat, fans have had no choice but to learn how to cope with endless ache.

In Indianapolis, where the team has been wretched for the past two years, it's black humor. The C-O-L-T-S have become an acronym for futility: Count On Losing This Sunday.

And in Tampa Bay, where the Buccaneers lost steadily throughout the 1980s and most of the '90s, psychiatrists have spoken of the five stages of death-related grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, finally, acceptance.

By this misery meter, it was clear coming into today's game that Washington fans are in the early stages of mourning.

"This is seriously the angriest that I've ever seen the fans," said Don Geronimo of the Don and Mike Show on WJFK 106.7 FM, which broadcasts Redskins games.

"It's agony," Mike O'Meara said. "It's pure, pure hell. The honeymoon is over."

Third-generation Redskins fan Denny Via, of Silver Spring, spoke of his personal pain in adjusting to losing.

"This is like the death of a family member," said Via, 41. "It's like a slow death. It's ugly to watch. I have not sat through . . . the home games. I couldn't stand it."

Just as the great Lombardi warned, losing in Washington is spawning ever more thoughts of losing.

"It's getting so that we don't even expect to win anymore. A win is a happy surprise now," said Ty Allison, manager of Kilroy's restaurant in Springfield, which draws a lot of Redskins fans.

Winning in Washington was once a glue – perhaps the only glue – that held the disparate parts of the city together. The lore among fans was that productivity improved on Monday in the capital after a Redskins win. Whether that is true, the team gave virtually everyone a joyous subject to share with strangers on the street.

Markie McKaig, 61, a nurse who has held Redskins season tickets for 33 years, was one of the happy talkers. She had never missed a game – until this year.

"It's just that this year I can't deal with this team," she said. "It's depressing the whole city. When we win, everybody's in a good mood. You go to park your car, it's 'Yes ma'am,' and, 'How 'bout them 'Skins?' When they lose, it's a downer. ... Our whole city is dependent on a bunch of guys running around in red jerseys."

After the 45-10 loss to San Francisco last month, she said a deep depression set in. Last Sunday, she skipped the Dallas game and went to a picnic. Today, she went to a christening.

"I'm not going to watch it," she said. "I'm not going to anything it. Write me when it's over."

One of the biggest sports charter bus organizers in town couldn't rustle up enough fans to fill a single bus for today's game.

"There was zero interest," said George Trainum, owner of Prime Time Events, a Northern Virginia-based company that runs charter buses to local sporting events.

Here in Philadelphia, today's win notwithstanding, losing over the decades by the Eagles and a number of other professional sports teams has dug a far deeper trench of defeatism than in Washington.

"In Philadelphia, we have known losing for so long, we assume we are never going to win anything," said Steve Feiner, athletic director of the Wyncote Academy, a private high school.

In the week before today's game, Philadelphians joined Redskins fans in expecting nothing but bad.

Tom DiMarano, a retired machinist who bets $50 a weekend with a local bookie on the NFL games, overhauled his betting strategy last week in anticipation of today's contest.

Sitting outside in a kitchen chair in the city's Italian market, DiMarano granted a quick interview on Saturday to explain his calculations.

Q: You following the Eagles these days?

A: No. They stink this year. So does Washington.

Q: Planning to watch the game?

A: No. I just bet. I never watch any of 'em. You watch, you get the ulcer.

Q: Do the Eagles aggravate the ulcer?

A: Any team that stinks, like your Eagles, like your Washington, they aggravate. I like Dallas.

Q: Which team did you bet on, the Eagles or the Redskins?

A: No! Not Washington! Not the Eagles! They don't give you much. Because they both stink.

In the parking lot outside Veterans Stadium before the game, Chuck Kealey, a US Airways baggage handler, said he's given up utterly on the team he buys season tickets for.

He wore an "Eagles Sucks" T-shirt. Next year, he said, he is going to trade in his season tickets for a satellite dish.

As noisy Eagles fans filtered out of the stadium this afternoon, there was defeatism even in winning.

"I'm happy," said Harry Davis, 30, as he left the stadium. But even in victory, he could not rise above the black vibes of habitual losing.

"They still stink," he said. But he said it with a smile.