From Years of Heartache to Joy: A Washington Commanders Fan’s Journey
Next Sunday, the Washington Commanders will compete in the NFC Championship game, just one step away from the Super Bowl.
How is this even real?
I am a typical NFL fan who has endured countless tough years with my local team. For over 30 years, I’ve faced endless, painful seasons.
Growing up in the Washington, D.C. area with two die-hard football fans as parents, the NFL became a part of my life. I admired the toughness of the Over the Hill Gang in the 1970s, devoured the book The Future Is Now, and lit candles for Coach George Allen when he left. In the 1980s, I idolized Coach Joe Gibbs, celebrated the Hogs, the Fun Bunch, and enjoyed radio commentary by Huff and Puff.
We attended multiple playoff matches and celebrated three Super Bowl victories. Winning was part of our expectations. I vividly recall a postgame show where a fan called 911 to report a ‘robbery’ — a bad referee decision during a game.
The waiting list for Washington football season tickets was legendary and lasted decades. Long before ticket resale sites like StubHub appeared, I bought three tickets from a scalper for $300 to witness Art Monk set a passing record right in front of us at the beloved yet rundown RFK Stadium in 1991.
In 2002, I finally joined the waiting list for season tickets at the “new” stadium located in Landover, Maryland, far from the heart of D.C. and its significant landmarks that the NFL loves to showcase during broadcasts.
My number on that list was 43,595, and I imagined I’d be in my 80s by the time I got a ticket. Yet, just two years later in 2004, I received the call: I was a season ticket holder!
Incredibly, only two months after that, Gibbs returned as head coach. My seats were so high that my fear of heights often left me spilling beer as I made that trek upward, making it difficult for me to stand for the National Anthem. Yet, being there among the “In Gibbs We Trust” banners in the lower bowl was exhilarating.
What followed was a rollercoaster ride filled with unexpected challenges. There were disappointing seasons contrasted with rare highs: a few playoff games during Gibbs 2.0, an unanticipated playoff run led by the diving quarterback Taylor Heinicke, and victories over teams led by Tom Brady.
The 2012 season brought what many considered to be our savior: the fast, dual-threat quarterback Robert Griffin III, who fit our spread offense perfectly. But after an impressive start and lifting our spirits, our dreams came crashing down when RGIII suffered a knee injury in a playoff loss to the Seattle Seahawks.
Tears streamed down my face as I exited that stadium.
The tough times came in quick succession: a local station handed out paper bags reading “Love the Team, Hate the Owner” at a subway station near the stadium. Team owner Daniel Snyder even dispatched interns to collect these bags before fans could enter.
Home crowds increasingly dwindled, with fans from rival teams filling the seats, echoing chants of “defense” while our offense struggled.
I once left a game early in the third quarter and found myself in a line — to exit the stadium.
During a breast cancer awareness presentation on the Jumbotron in 2022, boos erupted when Snyder’s wife, Tanya, a survivor, appeared. Was the owner so disliked that we were booing a breast cancer survivor?
Eventually, I couldn’t find anyone — friends, family, or even acquaintances — willing to attend the games with me, even for free.
Yet, I made a promise to myself: regardless of the relentless cycle of poor coaching, struggling quarterbacks, and organizational turmoil, I would remain a fan for life. I downgraded to a single ticket.
Not long after, I found a fantastic lower bowl seat just 17 rows from the field, surrounded by fellow fans who proudly donned their burgundy and gold and cheered passionately every game. (Shoutout to my fellow fans James, Sharonda, and the others!)
Then came 2023, and the shocking news: Snyder finally sold our team. Before last season, I joined a rally in downtown D.C. where new owner Josh Harris was present, and the crowd erupted in gratitude with “Thank you, Josh!” chants.
The 2024-25 season arrived with fresh coaches, a true general manager, new players, and an impressive, composed quarterback in Jayden Daniels. The team now runs onto the field as a unit through smoke, honoring our legendary players from the past. Our fight song has made a comeback. We don’t just stand in the lower bowl; we revel, dance, and celebrate together.
NOW it’s our fans who lead the “defense” chants. We’re even bringing back the iconic wave from the 1980s. The atmosphere in the stadium is electric. Against all odds, we have secured two playoff victories.
When Daniels threw an incredible Hail Mary to clinch a win against the Chicago Bears in October, I realized that no one wanted to leave; we all were intent on savoring the moment. Yes, sports can be harsh, sometimes mirroring three decades of anguish.
But if you persevere through the tough times, you just might find magic: that’s the essence of being a true fan.
Susan Miller is a Senior Breaking News editor
