The Washington Commanders should let Ron Rivera go and elevate Eric Bieniemy, for several reasons that make far too much sense.
The Washington Commanders fired defensive coordinator Jack Del Rio last week after a debacle of a Thanksgiving loss to the Dallas Cowboys in which head coach Ron Rivera’s team in which Washington allowed 376 total yards and five touchdowns in a 45-10 disaster.
On Sunday, against the Miami Dolphins, and with Rivera taking control of the defense, the Commanders allowed 405 total yards and five touchdowns in a 45-15 disaster.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, Del Rio’s defense was undone with too much man coverage that gave his defenders too little help against potentially explosive plays, and this version of Washington’s defense looked no different.
It’s been a problem all season, and it’s highly doubtful that the Commanders — who are still trying to escape the stink of the Den Snyder era with new ownership — will retain Rivera in 2024. As the team is now effectively out of playoff hope with a 4-9 record, the time may be now to move on.
When you suggest firing a coach, the first and most reasonable question is, who do you replace him with? In this case, there’s first-year offensive coordinator Eric Bieniemy, who was shut out over and over for head coaching opportunities when he was the Kansas City Chiefs’ OC. Giving Bieniemy an opportunity to finish this season out would answer some questions about his NFL head coaching viability that would never happen with his former team.
There’s also this franchise’s frankly disgusting history with race relations. George Preston Marshall, the team’s owner from 1932 through 1969, so opposed the idea of Black players on his team while the rest of the league integrated, he actually got into a protracted battle with Stewart L. Udall, John F. Kennedy’s Secretary of the Interior, over Marshall’s insistence that the then-Redskins would remain all-white.
It was only after Udall threatened Marshall’s ability to build a stadium on public land that Marshall — who once actually said that since other teams had signed Black players, “Does it matter which team has the Negroes?” — finally recanted his position.
Washington selected Syracuse running back Ernie Davis as the first pick in 1962 draft and traded his rights to the Browns for Cleveland first-round pick Leroy Jackson and running back/receiver Bobby Mitchell. Mitchell thrived in his new environment. After catching 142 passes for 1,462 yards and 16 touchdowns through his four years in Cleveland, he amassed 72 catches for 1,384 yards, both league highs, in 1962 alone. He followed that up with 1,436 receiving yards in 1963, another league high, and he led the NFL with 10 touchdown receptions in 1964. His yards per touch averages in 1963 and 1964—20.4 and 21.3, respectively—are excellent indications of the threat he presented as a receiver, rusher and returner.
Despite (or perhaps due to) the integration of his team, Marshall wasn’t above making a noxious point at the worst possible time. At one team meeting during the Redskins’ annual preseason jaunt through the South, the song “Dixie” began to play in the room. The entire team stood for the de facto anthem of the Confederacy, and Marshall tapped Mitchell on the shoulder.
“Bobby Mitchell, sing!”
Mitchell wasn’t just expected to stand and sing there and then—he was expected to do so as the song was played before the exhibition games by Marshall’s own band. He mouthed the words, seething inside.
Now, the Commanders, who have never had a Black head coach outside of Terry Robiskie, who took the interim job for three gamesafter Norv Turner was fired in 2000, have a wrong they can not only right for the moral and ethical good, but perhaps because it makes the most football sense.
A practical solution for an organization that has made precious little sense for far too long.
“There have been some really terrible owners in the National Football League.”
That is how NFL Network’s Rich Eisen began a segment of his “Rich Eisen Show” Thursday.
Eisen also inquired, “Put it all together, is Dan Snyder the worst owner in the history of the National Football League?”
Well, of course, that would take extensive research throughout the history of the NFL, and Eisen certainly doesn’t have time to undertake such a huge task. Neither should we contemporaries simplistically declare that we “know” Snyder is the worst owner in NFL history.
Certainly, Snyder will be rightly criticized for his wrongly getting involved in football decisions. His zeal, though sincere, led to grievous mistakes and errors in judgment. Leading examples are the Albert Haynesworth signing, the class of 2000 free agent signings where he grossly overpaid each of those players, his siding with self-absorbed Robert Griffin over a knowledgeable coaching staff, and insisting his football staff draft Dwayne Haskins when other players on their draft board were wiser selections in the first round of the 2019 NFL draft.
Yet, Snyder certainly paid his players well. He certainly treated many players well, not only during the regular seasons but also in the offseason, when he chose to help several of them in various ways.
Where is the record of Snyder ever choosing to single out players or mistreat players all because they were not of his ethnicity? Daniel Snyder was no racist.
Yes, certainly, the accusation that he inappropriately touched a couple of women should be taken seriously. Yet, shouldn’t it also be remembered the lack of witnesses to substantiate these accusations? The accusations may be true, yes. They also may be just as untrue. The truth is, we don’t know.
Yes, Daniel Snyder is right to be blamed for much of the wrong for which he is blamed during his unsuccessful ownership of the Washington NFL franchise.
However, Snyder will also be demonized. He will be made the scapegoat for everything that went wrong. He will be the fall guy, the stooge, the schmuck. Yes, often he was. But consider all the comedy of errors from the business side in the last couple of seasons. Consider Snyder didn’t coach or play during all these losing seasons. There is enough blame to go around.
Snyder doesn’t appear to have been a Donald Sterling, nor on par with George Preston Marshall, who was the last NFL owner to integrate.
But yes, certainly, we are glad to see Snyder move on from the franchise, and we hope this means more winning seasons for the Commanders.
From George Preston Marshall to Harry Wismer to Bill Bidwill to Dan Snyder, here are the worst owners in the history of professional football.
Now that soon-to-be-former Washington Commanders owner has agreed in principle to sell the team to a group led by Josh Harris and includes basketball legend Earvin “Magic” Johnson, the NFL will have to look around for a new worst owner. Snyder, who experienced more team names (three) than playoff wins (two) in a tenure that started in 1999, was absolutely horrible, and you’ll see all the reasons why in a minute.
Not that Snyder is the only horrible owner in the history of professional football. It stands to reason that for every great owner over time, there have been those individuals who were in no way qualified to be in control of any franchise. Whether it was due to financial issues, the ego to believe that personnel decisions should be theirs and theirs alone, or just general incompetence and personality issues, there are those people who have controlled pro football teams when they had no qualifications to do so.
Here, for your consideration, are the worst owners in the history of professional football.
The Redskins removed the monument of George Preston Marshall on Friday, which AP said made him feel good about our progress in society.
The Washington Redskins did what was long overdue on Friday, removing the monument in front of RFK Stadium that memorialized former team owner George Preston Marshall, a historically racist owner who fought against integration in the NFL for years.
While public outcry led to the removal, some are showing appreciation to the Redskins for listening to people who wanted the monument gone. One of those people is veteran running back Adrian Peterson, who told TMZ that he very much approved of getting rid of the former team owner’s controversial presence at both RFK Stadium, and Fed Ex Field.
“It makes me feel good,” Peterson said. “Obviously, in different states all over this country, you’ve got monuments, buildings and stuff and statues that are named after people that owned slaves, people that were racists. It just shows that God is watching over us, to be able to get to a point now where they are removing some of these statues and trying to pave a new way.”
Not only was the monument to Marshall removed, but on Saturday, the Redskins announced that his name would be removed from the lower bowl at Fed Ex Field, being replaced by the name of Bobby Mitchell, a HOF wide receiver who was the first African-American player in team history, as well as the first Black executive in the NFL. Mitchell also had his jersey No. 49 retired on Saturday, making him only the second player in franchise history — next to Sammy Baugh — to have his jersey retired.
The Redskins retired Bobby Mitchell’s No. 49, the first black player in team history, and renamed the lower bowl at Fed Ex field after him.
Just a day after the controversial George Preston Marshall memorial was removed from in front of the Washington Redskins RFK stadium, the team has announced more changes to better fit today’s culture of tolerance and understanding for minorities and people of color.
According to ESPN’s John Keim, the Redskins have moved to retired the jersey of former player Bobby Mitchell, who was the first African-American player to join the Redskins. They are also renaming the lower bowl at Fed Ex Field after Mitchell. It was previously named after the aforementioned George Preston Marshall, a historically racist team owner in Washington who fought against integration in the NFL for years.
The Redskins are retiring Bobby Mitchell’s number, per source, and will re-name the lower bowl at FedEx Field in his name – replacing that of former owner George Preston Marshall. Mitchell, who wore No. 49, was the first African American to play for Washington. He played for the Redskins from 1962-68 and then worked in their front office until retiring after the 2002 season. He was voted into the Hall of Fame in 1983. The Redskins had previously retired one number: Sammy Baugh’s 33.
These changes are all necessary and good, but it’s hard to feel like they will mean much until something is done about the Redskins name that multitudes of people have been calling for to change for years now. With the way the ball is currently rolling, Dan Snyder is likely feeling the pressure to change it, especially with the Mayor of Washington D.C. saying that the team would be unable to build a new stadium in the District unless a name change came.
In a statement released by Events D.C., the government said Marshall’s racism — which included keeping his team segregated well after the rest of the NFL had integrated — made him unfit for such a memorial.
“This morning, Events DC removed the George Preston Marshall memorial statue that stood out front of RFK Stadium,” the statement said. “This symbol of a person who didn’t believe all men and women were created equal and who actually worked against integration is counter to all that we as people, a city, and nation represent. We believe that injustice and inequality of all forms is reprehensible and we are firmly committed to confronting unequal treatment and working together toward healing our city and country.
“Removing this statue is a small and an overdue step on the road to lasting equality and justice. We recognize that we can do better and act now. We’ve heard from many of our stakeholders in the community, and we thank you. Allowing the memorial to remain on the RFK Campus goes against Events DC’s values of inclusion and equality and is a disturbing symbol to many in the city we serve.”
The Redskins did not comment on the removal of Marshall’s statue, citing the fact that RFK is no longer under their control. Owner Dan Snyder gave all his employees the day off Friday in honor of Juneteenth.
Marshall owned the franchise from its inception in 1932 until his death in 1969. The team began in Boston as the Braves in 1932 and was renamed the Redskins a year later when it shared Fenway Park with the Red Sox. Marshall moved the franchise to his hometown of Washington, D.C., in 1937.
ESPN summed up Marshall:
Marshall once said he would sign African American players once the Harlem Globetrotters signed white players. The Redskins were the southernmost franchise, and Marshall would have their marching band play “Dixie” on the field for 23 years. The NAACP protested against Marshall at a meeting of league owners in 1957 and once picketed outside his home.
In the spring of 1961, Interior Secretary Stewart Udall started to apply pressure on Marshall to integrate his roster. Because the Redskins were going to begin play at D.C. Stadium on federally owned land that fall, Udall told Marshall that a 30-year lease would be revoked unless he added a black player. NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle later got involved in trying to persuade Marshall to relent. That December, Marshall drafted black running back and Heisman Trophy winner Ernie Davis with the first pick.
However, it was later learned that Marshall had traded the selection to the Cleveland Browns in exchange for running back/wide receiver Bobby Mitchell, who became Washington’s first black player in 1962.
Crews are presently removing the rest of the George Preston Marshall memorial at RFK pic.twitter.com/5W9919SMDu
NEWS: A monument to George Preston Marshall, the racist founder of Washington's football team, has been removed from the grounds of RFK Stadium after "Change the name" was spray-painted on it overnight. The removal is permanent, I'm told. https://t.co/GxUpASHDZw
Statues of the racist owners of Washington DC sports teams George Preston Marshall (outside RFK) and Calvin Griffith (in Minneapolis, where he moved the Senators) both taken down today.
No statue is safe in America in today’s day and age.
The George Preston Marshall Memorial was rightfully removed from in front of the Washington Redskins RFK Stadium on Friday morning after calls for it’s destruction became prevalent. Marshall, who is notoriously remembered as one of the more racist owners that the NFL has ever seen, as he worked against integration in the league, and was credited with changing the name from the Braves to the Redskins.
Across our nation, as protests against racial injustice still carry on strong almost four weeks after the murder of George Floyd, statues and monuments of former slave owners and Confederate figures have been torn down with prevalence. It is right and just that the GPM monument was removed, and the first step in a long overdue process that will hopefully lead to the team eventually changing their name from ‘Redskins’ to something less offensive to indigenous people.
The Washington Redskins need to cut ties with their team nickname, and to the owner who created it.
It has long been the desire of many that the Washington Redskins change their socially, culturally, and racially insensitive team nickname to something else. However, team owner Daniel Snyder has said that this will never happen.
“I’ve listened carefully to the commentary and perspectives on all sides, and I respect the feelings of those who are offended by the team name,” Snyder wrote in a letter to the team’s fans in 2013. “But I hope such individuals also try to respect what the name means, not only for all of us in the extended Washington Redskins family, but among Native Americans too.”
“Mr. Snyder can personally explain why he believes they deserve to be called ‘redskins,’” Ray Halbritter, representative of the Oneida Indian Nation, said in a statement response. “He can then hear directly from them why that term is so painful.”
Recently, Washington D.C. Mayor Muriel Bowser said that if the team ever wants to have a stadium in the nation’s capital — as opposed to FedEx Field (formerly Jack Kent Cooke Stadium), which is located in Landover, Maryland, and has been the team’s home stadium since 1997 — it would be wise to consider a name change sooner than later.
“I think it’s past time for the team to deal with what offends so many people,” Bowser said in a Friday interview with radio station The Team 980. “And this is a great franchise with a great history that’s beloved in Washington. And it deserves a name that reflects the affection that we’ve built for the team.”
Washington D.C. NFL franchise played in the nation’s capital in Griffith Stadium from 1937 through 1960, and at R.F.K. Stadium (first District of Columbia Stadium) from 1961 through 1996.
“It’s an obstacle for us locally but it’s also an obstacle for the federal government who leases the land to us,” Bowser concluded.
In the America of 2020, when racial invective has increased for multiple reasons, and the obvious desire for change is coming from all quarters — including the player population of the NFL — there is no good explanation for the franchise to keep the name. The attendant ties to tradition are empty in this case. Not only because the name hurts certain groups of people while it serves nobody in a positive sense, but also because the man who originally brought the team from Boston for the 1937 season was the most toxic racist in the NFL’s history.
So, ideally, the Redskins would move to a different name, and take down the monument to former owner George Preston Marshall along the way. The monument stands outside RFK stadium, and stands in stark contrast to everything the league says it’s trying to do for race relations and civil rights.
Marshall founded the team as the Boston Braves in 1932, changed the name to “Redskins” in 1933, and kept the name when he moved the team to Washington, D.C. before the 1937 season. By then, Marshall had done all he possibly could to make the NFL a league for white players and nobody else.
To date, there is no actual evidence of an official policy, written or otherwise, that kept black players out of the NFL from 1934 through 1946. The most you’re able to see historically are a bunch of categorical non-denials and murky excuses from coaches and executives who were asked about the ban in later years.
But if there was an epicenter of time when the ban became real, it was likely the league’s owner’s meetings at the Commodore Hotel in New York City on June 30 and July 1, 1934. It was during these meetings that Boston Redskins owner George Preston Marshall proposed that the championship games between the Eastern and Western conferences be played at alternating locations each year. Also, electric clocks were added to the scoreboards for each stadium, game officials were given armbands designating their specific roles, and a championship trophy named after Ed Thorp would be awarded every season. Thorp was a college football official who had a sporting goods store in New York City, and he was friends with many of the NFL’s pace-setters.
There was also an agreement to create a rule book for the league, to be distributed “on or before” August 1, 1934.
On July 7, less than one week after the meetings adjourned, Commissioner Joe Carr sent out an NFL Bulletin detailing, among other things, player movement. One of the names was Joe Lillard’s, as he had been cut by the Chicago Cardinals.
Lillard thus became the last black player to suit up for an NFL team until 1946.
Another resolution of the league meetings was the purchase of 100 copies of Dr. Harry March’s book, Pro Football—It’s (sic) Ups and Downs: A Light-Hearted History of the Post-Graduate League. Loosely researched and more of a PR package than anything else, March’s book found its way into the ticket offices of the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers, and Carr distributed the 100 league-purchased copies as he saw fit.
In that book, Marsh wrote two pagers on black players and the specter of their future in the league, claiming that “there is no rule against it… there is no agreement in the football League… such a rule would likely lead to litigation, the colored man claiming that his constitutional rights of equality were being violated.”
Marshall wasn’t just the man behind the black player ban — he was also the last team owner to integrate once the walls had come down, and it took the threat of the loss of stadium rights, and the intervention of Stewart L. Udall, John F. Kennedy’s Secretary of the Interior, to change that.
On March 24, 1961, Marshall received a hand-delivered letter from Udall, bearing the insignia of the Department of the Interior, that raised the stakes considerably and made it clear that the Federal Government was not about to endorse his segregationist policies.
Dear Mr. Marshall:
To harmonize our contract policies with the general antidiscrimination policy enunciated by the President a few days ago, we have recently promulgated an amendment to the regulations with govern the use of areas under the jurisdiction of National Capital Parks. This amended regulation prohibits discrimination in employment practices with respect to any activity provided for by a contract, lease or permit with an operator or sub-lessee of any public facility in a park area. I am enclosing a copy of the new regulation for your information.
Your company, Pro Football, Inc., through a lease executed on December 24, 1959, has contracted with the District of Columbia Armory Board to use the new District of Columbia Stadium in Anacostia Park for a series of games. Under its terms, the new regulation above is incorporated into this lease.
I am cognizant of the fact that there have been persistent allegations that your company practices discrimination in the hiring of its players. We are not, at this time, passing judgment on this issue—indeed we assume that your company will fully adhere to its contractual obligations. However, candor compels me to advise you of he implications of this new regulation—and out view of its import.
Signed
Stewart L. Udall
Secretary of the Interior
“I think the matter is thoroughly covered in our lease and it was discussed at length,” Marshall responded via letter.
All attractions at the new stadium will be those presented by the National Football League. The National Football League has no restrictions I know of, neither do the Redskins.
Naturally, I have turned your letter over to our lawyers, King & Nordlinger.
As to our position at the present moment, we violate no laws of the United States and this lease was made on that basis.
Would be glad to discuss this matter with you at any time.
Marshall then set up a press conference at his offices on Ninth Street. Befitting his sense of theater, he began the presser by directing a call to Ambassador Joseph P. Kennedy, the father of JFK, because “I want to tell my old pal what a creep I think his son is.”
“I obey all laws,” Marshall pled to the media. “If they change them, I’ll abide by them. I didn’t know the government had a right to tell the showman how to cast the play… No, we don’t have any Negroes on the team, but we have had a Samoan, Hawaiian, [an] Indian, and a Cuban in the past.”
Marshall then argued that, since other teams had signed black players, “Does it matter which team has the Negroes?”
Marshall said that his team had been drafting the majority of its players from the South, and that Southern colleges didn’t have Negro players, which of course was relatively true at the time if you ignored the growth of talent at black Southern colleges, which of course, Marshall did—and directed his executives and coaches to do the same.
He said that the Redskins had made an effort to appeal to Southern businesses, which in 1961 was about as blatant an admission of racist hiring policies as one could make without coming right out and saying, “We refuse to hire black people to play for our team.”
To New York Times reporter David Halberstam, Marshall made it a more global issue—in a very glib fashion.
“Are they going to demand that the National Symphony Orchestra have Negroes? The Army and Navy teams don’t have colored players; will they be barred from playing at the stadium?”
Eventually, like all bullies, Marshall realized that his enemy would not relent — if he wanted to play in a city-owned stadium, he would have to integrate his team. Even then, things got weird. Washington selected Syracuse running back Ernie Davis as the first pick in 1962 draft and traded his rights to the Browns for Cleveland first-round pick Leroy Jackson and running back/receiver Bobby Mitchell.
Unknown date and location; Washington Redskins flanker #49 Bobby Mitchell runs against the Cleveland Browns. Mitchell had 14,078 combined net yards, second in NFL history, and scored 91 touchdowns during his 11-year Hall of Fame career. (Photo By Malcolm Emmons-USA TODAY Sports copyright (c) Malcolm Emmons)
Mitchell thrived in his new environment. After catching 142 passes for 1,462 yards and 16 touchdowns through his four years in Cleveland, he amassed 72 catches for 1,384 yards, both league highs, in 1962 alone. He followed that up with 1,436 receiving yards in 1963, another league high, and he led the NFL with 10 touchdown receptions in 1964. His yards per touch averages in 1963 and 1964—20.4 and 21.3, respectively—are excellent indications of the threat he presented as a receiver, rusher and returner.
“The happiest day of my pro career came when [Redskins head coach Bill] McPeak told me I was going to play flanker back,” Mitchell said at an October 1962 meeting of the Pro Quarterback’s Club in New York City. “I was getting tired of fellows like Sam Huff hitting me in the mouth. I wanted to get outside where I could scare someone.”
Despite (or perhaps due to) the integration of his team, Marshall wasn’t above making a noxious point at the worst possible time. At one team meeting during the Redskins’ annual preseason jaunt through the South, the song “Dixie” began to play in the room. The entire team stood for the de facto anthem of the Confederacy, and Marshall tapped Mitchell on the shoulder.
“Bobby Mitchell, sing!”
Mitchell wasn’t just expected to stand and sing there and then—he was expected to do so as the song was played before the exhibition games by Marshall’s own band. He mouthed the words, seething inside.
There is no reason to honor a man who did everything he could to keep black players out of professional football for over a decade, and did everything he could to keep black players off his own team for even longer. If the NFL is going to be serious about its avowed commitments to social justice, any positive reference to George Preston Marshall must be removed — and the team’s name must be changed.
