It has become one of the signature panoramas in television sports: The blimp’s camera focuses on the Lincoln Memorial, then slowly pans past the Washington Monument and Capitol dome until it zeros in on the oval shape of RFK Stadium, filled, as always, to capacity.
It’s another tradition about to succumb to the modern era. When Sunday’s game between the Washington Redskins and the Dallas Cowboys ends, the NFL will say goodbye to the nation’s capital.
Next season, the Redskins will move into a new home, one that’s only five miles away in distance but light years behind in tradition. The NFL’s smallest stadium with the crummy locker rooms will be replaced by a 78,600-seat facility being built in the Maryland suburbs.
“I think that one of the greatest things about my coaching career was getting to coach at RFK,” said Joe Gibbs, who led the Redskins to three Super Bowl titles as coach from 1981-92. “These days, these big modern stadiums all feel the same, all look the same. RFK was totally different.”
Totally different because it was totally hostile to visiting teams, which emerged as winners only 37% of the time over 35 seasons. Perhaps visitors were deceived by RFK’s bland outward appearance, only to discover the unfriendly conditions within.
“The locker room’s cold,” said Russ Grimm, one of the linemen known collectively as the “Hogs” in the 1980s. “From the time you walked out, it’s a cold, eerie feeling. You come through the tunnel, it’s damp, it’s got moss growing on it.
“You walk out on the field. In the early ‘80s, it looked good on TV, but it was painted dirt. The fans are up close, they’re screaming and yelling. . . . I see people with hog noses, and stands bouncing up and down, and that’s what football’s all about. It was a great place to play.”
Built in 1960, the stadium from the outside resembles a huge spaceship, a style that typified the architecture of the day. But on the inside it was in many ways a throwback to earlier times.
In the lower sections, fans sat so close to the field that the scent of cleat-torn turf would waft into the stands. By November and December, when it seemed the Redskins were always playing the Cowboys in the late-afternoon gloom, a dank mist from the nearby Anacostia River usually hung over the place. The field was often a quagmire, leaving players wet and mud-stained.
And no matter how cold it got, the fans kept up their relentless din, cheering all the louder to make up for the muffling effects of gloves.
Temporary stands on the far side of the field–sitting in what was left-center field during RFK’s baseball days–would shake and sway, driven by the frenetic stomping of thousands of feet.
Redskins coach Norv Turner remembers what it was like coming to RFK as a Cowboys assistant.
“I know in ’91 we came in here and the Redskins were undefeated and, shoot, that first quarter I don’t think we got a first down,” he said. “We had guys jumping offsides. We had missed audibles, those things. It wasn’t until we made a big play and got a big first down that the thing finally quieted down enough where we could operate.”
Gibbs, like George Allen before him, openly implored Redskins fans to get into the game; while many other NFL coaches pay lip service to the concept of a home-field advantage, the Redskins coaches really believed it.
“The unique part was that George Allen would have signs put up in the stadium,” former Cowboys president Tex Schramm said. “He was always trying to intimidate the officials. He knew I was a good friend of (commissioner) Pete Rozelle, so there would be a big sign that read, ‘Schramm, Rozelle can’t help you here.’ ”
RFK was home to some of the unforgettable games of NFL lore. The 72-41 victory over the Giants in 1966–a scoring outburst unparalleled in league history; the 14-7 victory over the Cowboys in 1973 that ended with what became known as The Tackle–Ken Houston’s wrestle-down of Walt Garrison on the 1-yard line on the game’s final play; the “We Want Dallas!” 31-17 victory over the Cowboys in the 1982 NFC Championship game; and The Seat Cushion Game, the muddy 24-7 playoff win over the Falcons in 1992 that saw thousands of yellow promotional seat cushions fly from the stands in the celebratory fourth quarter.
“Ah, that was great,” Grimm said with a twinkle in his eye. “Pouring down rain, playing the run-and-shoot, seat cushions flying everywhere. What more could you ask for?”
Sunday’s game will be the Redskins’ 229th consecutive home sellout at the 53,000-seat stadium, an NFL record. Incredibly, the streak began in the mid-1960s, when the Redskins were still perennial NFL doormats. In 1961, the team’s first year in the stadium then known as D.C. Stadium, the only victory in a 1-12-1 campaign came in the season finale against Dallas.
“The fans were just as rowdy and crazy” in the ‘60s, Hall of Fame receiver Bobby Mitchell said. “That was probably the most enjoyable part of it.”
The winning began in 1969 with the arrival of Vince Lombardi and continued under Allen, but even subsequent tough times under Jack Pardee and Turner failed to dampen fans’ enthusiasm.
“There’s nothing worse than going through a few years where the team’s not a contender and see a third of the seats empty,” former general manager Bobby Beathard said. “With RFK, that never happens.”
The motivation for the Redskins’ move out of RFK is the usual one–owner Jack Kent Cooke says he needs more luxury boxes and seats, and he’s digging into his own fortune to build the new $160 million stadium.
It took Cooke eight years of political wrangling to find the site, a 300-acre farm near Landover. Unlike some owners, Cooke never threatened to move away from the Washington area in his pursuit of a new facility, and he made genuine efforts to keep the team within the district’s boundaries.
“It’s a business,” said area businessman and former kicker Mark Moseley, one of 33 former Redskins players and coaches expected to attend Sunday’s game. “And he’s going to do what he’s got to do for his business. I think Mr. Cooke made a valiant effort to keep the stadium in Washington, D.C. If anyone’s to blame, it’s the city of Washington.”
Nostalgia buffs can take comfort in knowing RFK will not die at the hands of a demolition crew. The stadium will remain the home of Major League Soccer’s D.C. United and will host other major soccer and college football games and concerts. It could also host baseball on an interim basis should the area ever land a major league team.
“I’m glad (the team) didn’t have to leave while I was still playing, because that would have been tough,” Grimm said. “But there’s a time for change in everything you do.”