What Does Winning Feel Like: Confessions of a Sports Fan Cursed with Bad Luck

As the Pittsburgh Steelers went off into the sunset with their sixth Super Bowl trophy in hand, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. After all, I've never seen any of my teams bring home a major championship during my lifetime.

Sports takes up a large portion of my life in some form or fashion, and I'm sure it's the same story with most of you. As a little guy, I learned how to tie my shoes only under the threat of being deprived of watching the 1995 AFC Championship game.

I couldn't tie my damn shoes for the life of me. I had trouble with performing simple tasks like blowing my nose and whistling. But after my dad threatened me with missing the big game, it only took a matter of minutes before those laces were perfect.

Unfortunately, my dad grew tired of TV and got rid of it by the time I was 10. That didn't stop me.

I listened to a bunch of games on the radio huddled in the den trying to find the perfect frequency so I could hear Marv Albert's voice over the AM static. My Redskins were on FM, so I could hear Sonny, Sam, and Frank perfectly.

If you haven't listened to a game on the radio, I would encourage it. The announcers are far more talented than those on TV and it gives you a great old-time American feel.

I remember sneaking a radio into bed one night with me to catch the end of the 'Skins-Cowboys MNF in 2005. I wept when Santana Moss caught his second touchdown.

Another time I heard Cal Ripken Jr. notch his 3,000th hit.

All the greatest moments in sports from 1997-2005, I heard. Now and then I'll look those moments up on YouTube to see what actually happened. Those announcers painted a great picture, but to finally see those moments...It gives me goosebumps when I venture back in the day and see them for the first time.

Not seeing the games also drove me to read about sports. I had to get a feel for what went on in the games. Reading was the only way to see the nitty-gritty of each teams' performance.

I loved sports and I still do. But with the nostalgia and warm fuzzies comes a bitter sting.

I have never witnessed one of my teams win it all.

The 'Skins rarely make the playoffs. In 1996, they began the year 7-1. They ended at 9-7 missing the playoffs with a loss to Arizona in overtime. That one hurt the most.

The 'Skins do it to me every year. They always show a little something and then fade to black. I don't think I have seen a more stagnant offense than the one ran by Mark Brunell in 2006.

They must have called the plays from an index card with room to spare. Stretch left, toss right, swing pass to Betts, punt. That was the prototypical Redskin drive in 2006.

Meanwhile, my mom's side of the family gets excited every couple of years when their Steelers win another Super Bowl. And I have to visit them and listen to them rip my 'Skins and praise the mighty Big Ben year after year.

Memo to Uncle Vinnie: It's not hard to be a good fan when you have the perfect organization.

I shouldn't hate the Steelers just because they win, but maybe it's because their fans are so damn arrogant about it. I just watch them celebrate in my Virginia Buffalo Wild Wings with chants of "HERE WE GO STEELERS!" And I know there's nothing I can say because they just win, baby.

Sometimes I feel that I deserve to see the Skins win it all. After all, I agonize week after week on whether the coaches should play Laron Landry at FS or SS. I worry about whether we will finally get a decent kicker.

I wonder whether we should have thrown it on that one play in the second quarter. With the effort I put in, shouldn't I see a reward?

Then I just have to tell myself there was a time when things were good. We actually made the postseason consistently and brought home three titles. That's more than some teams can say. Maybe I should feel lucky.

However, that's hard to do when I've never experienced the thrill of total victory myself.

I see images of Heath Shuler, Steve Spurrier, and Michael Westbrook in my nightmares. With them comes a sorrowful procession of other busts and disappointments. It's tough being a fan of a loser.

But someday I'll get the last laugh and the nightmares will fade. My cousin Billy will come up and I'll be able to say "so how bout them Redskins!" He'll probably say something about Sixburgh and the Steel Curtain, but you know what I won't care. I'll be too busy basking in victory.

Hopefully that feeling will become more than the stuff of my dreams.