Because one of the police dogs made a wonderful flying tackle of a mock gunman during Sunday's halftime show at RFK, it has been suggested that the Redskins send the dogs to Dallas and keep the players at home.
Others whose hearts are in the wrong place say that no matter who makes the trip, the pregame meal will be Alpo. This typewriter will have none of that tomfoolery, for, six weeks ago, speaking of the Redskins, these keys tapped out, "Yes, the Super Bowl is a possibility . . ."
The possibility is smaller now, perhaps no larger than a chihuahua, yet the Redskins are tied for first place in their division and it is no time give up. Rather, we should look for answers to what is troubling the poor Redskins.
That's why I spent an hour with the famous sports shrink, Dr. Ham String.
"Doc, six weeks ago these guys were sensational, but now they couldn't tackle Duke Zaibert if he ran to their right side," I said.
"It started with the Redskinettes," Dr. String said. "Remember those new uniforms?"
The uniforms were a scandal. Some people called them "golf course" uniforms because they had so many holes.
"But what does a naval or two have to do with football?" I asked.
When the Redskinettes put on the new uniforms, the Redskins scored 35 points against philadelphia," the doctor said. "But when they went back to the old uniforms for the next game, the Redskins got only 23 points against the Jets."
"Surely there was no connection," I said.
"I believe the opposition's defensive unit was attracted by the Redskins, the players became depressed. That's one of the reasons the point production went down to 9 against Dallas."
"You said 'one' of the reasons?"
"There was the Yeldell-Antonelli trial, too," String said.
Edward Bennett Williams, the Redskins' owner, is a lawyer who defended one of the men in that trial.
"Owning the Redskins isn't a real job, Doc," I said. "What's Williams' working got to do with the Redskins?"
"He couldn't call the plays any more." String said. "In the month of the trial the Redskins' scoring went down game by game."
"Come on, Doc. Jack Pardee is the coach and his right-hand man, Joe Walton calls all the plays."
"Right, sure," Dr. String said. I detected condescention in his tone. "And Walton is on the telephone to someone all the time. Do you think he's talking to his mother-in-law? Without Williams' help, the team dropped another step into the depression we see today."
"This is terrible," I said. "All along I thought we had just misjudged the Redskins' talent. I didn't know the poor guys were suffering mentally."
"You haven't heard the worst part," Dr. String said. "The villain here is President Carter."
I was shocked.
The president had been Williams' guest for the Cowboys' game at RFK six weeks ago. He was seen smiling at the conclusion of the Redskins' 9-5 victory.
"But have you seen the president at a Redskins' game since then?" Dr. String asked.
"He's been busy cheering for the dollar," I replied.
"It's one thing to booed the way the Redskins were several times Sunday," Dr. String said. "But to be abandoned by the president of the United States must be terrible."
"Bert Lance might know," I suggested.
"Only one thing can save the Redskins from an embarrassing defeat in Dallas," the doctor said.
It would help I thought, if the Redskins' offensive linemen were exhumed. The Giants and Cardinals buried them deeply. Or Joe Theismann could give his receives butterfly nets. Maybe someone could steal Tony Dorsett's alarm clock.
Nothing so complicated, Dr. String said.
"Just ask President Carter to bring the Redskinettes, in their golf course uniforms, to Dallas," he said.