Washington, D.C., has always considered itself a football town, a town where the Redskins were king and all the other teams were, well, the other teams.

The injury-ravaged and defense-averse Wizards and the grow-a-ballclub-with-magic-beans Nationals have pretty much allowed that Burgundy and Gold superiority the opportunity to sit, complacent, on its laurels, getting fatter and more self-satisfied by the day.

The other team in town, though, the other team in town is very much doing something to shift the dominant sports paradigm in the most powerful city in the world…. Oh.. Who?

The Caps!

You didn't think I was talking about D.C. United, did you? Silly foot-sport… (Just because the rest of the world has grasped the concept of universal healthcare, don't expect "socialized medicine" to do much more than run its head into the wall over and over and over and over again here in the colonies. Same with soccer. Remember David Beckham? Yeah, didn't think so….)

Where were we? Oh, right. The Caps. Regardless of whether the Caps have vanquished the Rangers by the time this makes it into your hot little hands, they have proven to be something no other major sports team in the local market has over the last 24 months: entertaining.

They generate buzz, they generate interest, they generate enthusiasm. From their Alfred E. Neumanlooking, madly over-talented captain, to their Lamborghini-driving Norris Trophy finalist defenseman, to their out of nowhere rookie goalie, the one suddenly making Rangers' counterpart Henrik Lundqvist look like Swiss cheese, they make people smile, they make people cheer, they make people dance. The Burgundy and Blegh make people sneer.

The Caps have become something of a national story this year, in as much as a hockey team can be a national story south of Hockey Night in Canada. Washington, D.C., currently has arguably the best player in his sport right here in town. And he likes being here!

Mayor Fenty gave him the key to the city last year after he was named league MVP. The first thing No. 8 did? Rescind the city's speed-limits. How can you not love this guy?!

The Caps, quietly, confidently and calmly built a team out of the ashes of Ted Leonsis' millions, learning from their ill-fated dalliances in Ming-vase-level free agency, avoiding the temptation to blindly throw money around, fighting the urge to change course every off-season, sidestepping the pitfall of alienating stars and role-players alike…. Oh, yeah, and their tickets are affordable and the building in which they perform is actually accessible!!

Any of this sounding familiar?

Or more like some fairytale dreamland, someplace through the looking glass where up is down and down is up? Happy players? Consistent goals? A plan that lasts longer than a call to Miss Cleo?

You're right, it's Bizarro World.

Maybe the Caps should do things the Redskins Way, instead. You know, choosing a plan and sticking to it for, I don't know, seven seconds.

Try to chart the growth and success of this Snyder and Cerrato led train-wreck and it looks more and more like a clown-car driven by drunk, angry, shiv-wielding midgets. In the last two months, the Redskins have puckered up for two hot-stud young quarterbacks, neither of whom has any kind of track record of, you know, winning in the NFL, and basically told the one guy whose grinning and bearing it has become almost Sisyphusian in its tragedy to just suck it up and deal. And even worse, Jason Campbell has sucked it up and dealt! He's been the most mature person in the room, the one least wracked with adult-onset-ADD (Oooo, kitty!!!), the only one who has shown he knows what it's like to interact with other human beings with grace and integrity.

I guess Jim Zorn can't be blindly dumped into the cesspool of disingenuous deceit displayed by Mssrs. Snyder and Cerrato. He hasn't been around long enough to have caught the worst of the cooties that each of these guys seems to have. But he ought to be careful.

Here's hoping Jason Campbell spends the next ten months (that's right, ten months, like through the Super Bowl) making the braintrust at Redskins Park increasingly uncomfortable and nervous. Let's all hope that Jason rewrites the Redskins' recordbooks, completely obliterating any hold any past Redskins' great might have on any one of them. Let us all hope that he does all this and more with his head held high, his shoulders square and his ego continually in check. Let us hope he continues to show how an athlete can indeed be a role model on and off the field, not just for how fast he can run and how far he can throw but for how he treats those around him, how he carries himself with decorum and dignity.

And let us all hope, very, very hard, that when the Dynamic Dolts, the Brothers Bumble, Danny and Vinny, come to their senses and ask Please, please, Jason, oh please, what do you want, what can we do, what riches can we shower you with, what baubles can we dangle before you to make you stay? that Jason will once, just this one time, reach deep into the toxic waste dump of his id and tell those two bozos to shove it, to kiss off, to take a hike, to not let the door hit 'em on their way out. And on his way out of town, Lombardi trophy under one arm for good measure, maybe, just maybe, he can swing by the Verizon Center and take in a Caps game. For old time's sake.