Is change finally going to come after all this time?

Prologue: The NFL team in Washington, facing financial pressure from two major sponsors, FedEx and Nike, is finally willing to consider changing its nickname. For a sense of how long-overdue this is, the following column was written more than 27 years ago after Washington beat Buffalo in the Super Bowl. It is lightly edited from the original version, published under my name on Jan. 28, 1992, primarily to eliminate instances when use of the nickname could have been avoided without significant impact.

Now that the Washington Redskins are champions of the NFL, it’s obvious what they should do next.

Change their nickname.

It is the most offensive, the most degrading, the most insulting of all the racist team nicknames. Perhaps there is some small honor to be found in Braves or Chiefs or Warriors, but there is none in Indians and there is less than none in Redskins.

It was a derogatory term for American Indians in the mid1800s, a racial slur just like

those used to denigrate other ethnic groups. It might not seem that way to you. But that’s exactly how it feels to many American Indians.

Jack Kent Cooke is the owner of the Washington team, and he “can’t imagine why anyone would object to our name.” Jack Kent Cooke is not an American Indian.

People like him can’t imagine, don’t understand. They think the Indians need to lighten up. It’s just a team nickname, for heaven’s sake. Nobody means any harm. Nobody means any disrespect

when they put on an Indian headdress, paint their face, wave a tomahawk and hum a war chant. It’s all in fun.

But the fact is, it’s making fun of the most sacred traditions in American Indian culture.

A headdress is worn only by the most revered and respected leaders, their feathers earned through lifetime service to the people. Face paint is used only in sacred ceremonies — weddings, funerals, the entering into adulthood. The drum symbolizes the heartbeat of the Indian nation. The chants are songs of prayer or honor.

Imagine the outrage if 30,000 people came to the Super Bowl dressed

as Catholic priests, chanting Latin verse and making the sign of the cross after every big play. Imagine the outrage if 30,000 people came to the Super Bowl wearing yarmulkes, chanting Yiddish verse and breaking glass after every touchdown.

This is no different. Twenty years from now — hopefully sooner — it will seem incredible that teams were allowed to use a nickname such as this. It will seem as incredible and as wrongheaded as separate bathrooms, water fountains and dining areas for “coloreds.”

Paul Tagliabue is not an American Indian. He is the NFL commissioner, and he, too, can’t imagine, doesn’t understand. In his

state of the league address Friday, Tagliabue followed Cooke right down the line, almost verbatim. The team nickname, he said, conveys bravery, honor, valor.

But there are none of those things in being called this name. It’s easy for non-Indian people to find pride in the name, because that’s all it is, a name. To American Indians, though, it’s a slur. Where’s the pride, the honor, in a physical characteristic that carries negative connotations and cartoon-character imagery? Where are the New York Blackskins, the Los Angeles Yellowskins? It’s no different. It might be innocent, but it’s the same kind of innocent thinking that gave us Aunt Jemima

and Sambo’s restaurants.

Some people don’t get it. American Indians aren’t something out of a history book. They were alive 100 years ago, and they’re alive today. They have cars. They have jobs. They have children.

Stand in the American Indian’s shoes for a moment. You are an American and, as such, you are watching the Super Bowl. People are wearing your sacred garments, performing cheap versions of your most sacred rites. It stings to be portrayed in this wild, subhuman way, and then your child asks why they’re doing this. Are they making fun, Dad?

Yes, they are, Son. They just don’t know that they are.

Now that Washington is champion of the NFL, it’s time for the team to champion a greater cause. It’s time for the Super Bowl winners to lead the way, to change the thinking, to change their name. Rednecks seems most appropriate, but any change will do. Lose the mascot and the helmet logo. Become the Skins, at the very least.

But it won’t happen. It won’t happen because Jack Kent Cooke is an old, rich, unenlightened whiteskin. Epilogue: So too is Daniel Snyder, the man who bought the team in 1999 after Jack Kent Cooke’s death and only now, facing serious financial repercussions, is considering a change he said he “never... NEVER” would make.