#RFK stadium

[istandonsnowpiles]

Dawn at RFK

[justinssportscorner]

Jonathan Nicholson at HuffPost (11.29.2024):

Sen. Steve Daines (R-Mont.) has been pushing the Washington Commanders NFL team to “restore” its former logo, which depicted a Native American, as it looks to find a new stadium. In 2020, bowing to years of public pressure and sponsors’ skittishness, the Washington, D.C., team ditched its Redskins name, widely seen by Native American groups as a slur.

When it dropped that name, the Commanders also retired the logo used since the early 1970s: a drawing of a Native American in profile with two feathers in his hair, based on Chief Two Guns White Calf of Montana’s Blackfeet Nation. Now, as the team tries to find a new stadium in the Washington area, it has been pressured by a Montana senator, Republican Steve Daines, to again use the logo in some way, despite its potential to revive a controversy that Native groups had hoped was dead and buried. To aid his cause, Daines leveraged a popular bipartisan bill supported by both the team and District of Columbia officials that could help the city land a new stadium and bring the team back from the suburbs. He kept the legislation, which would let the District of Columbia revitalize and reuse the site of the shuttered and decaying Robert F. Kennedy Stadium, bottled up in committee for months until Nov. 20. Daines said he’s only trying to right a wrong done to one of his constituents and the Blackfeet tribe when the logo was retired along with the old team name.

“We’ve had good discussions with the NFL and with the Commanders. There’s good-faith negotiations going forward that’s going to allow this logo to be used again. Perhaps revenues going to a foundation that could help Native Americans in sports and so forth,” Daines told Fox News on Nov. 20, after voting for the bill he’d been blocking. Daines added that the logo’s cancellation in 2020 was a case of “woke gone wrong.” “The irony [is] that they were canceling Native American culture as the [diversity, equity and inclusion] movement went way too far,” he said. But the idea of using the logo again has drawn opposition from at least one high-profile Native group and is likely to raise the same questions about athletic team iconography and the representation of Indigenous people that the old name did.

Montana Sen. Steve Daines (R) seeks the reinstation of the Washington Commanders’ racist logo that was discarded in 2020.

[reefdestro]

IG

[mrbopst]

October 19, 1969 - Washington Redskins linebacker Sam Huff waits for the snap during a 20-14 victory over the New York Giants at RFK Stadium.

[rolloroberson]

Steven Tyler of Aerosmith backstage at RFK Stadium.

[thenewdemocratus]

Real World 51: Redskins Magic: The Story of the 1982 Super Bowl Champion Washington Redskins

. Source:The Daily Press Of the three Super Bowl Championships that the Washington Redskins won, the 1982 Championship is my favorite because no one other than the Redskins themselves, expected them to do anything. I believe the Redskins knew they were good. Joe Theisman knew he was a good quarterback and could play. John Riggins knew he was a good tailback who just needed an opportunity and be…

[dreamofstarlight]

Opening of RFK Stadium in Washington DC in 1969

L-R: Maria Shriver, Courtney Kennedy, Caroline Kennedy, Sydney Lawford

[duffsmckagan]

DEBORAH FROST, DOKKEN, GROUPIES, HEAVY METAL, JAMES HETFIELD, KIRK HAMMETT, METALLICA, MONSTERS OF ROCK

Stories From The Road: Deborah Frost and Metallica

In Deborah Frost, Stories From the Road, music on December 7, 2008 at 2:28 pm

By Deborah Frost

“I once walked into the dressing room of a very huge metal band — well, they were not quite as huge then as they are now, oh what the hell, they are probably the biggest band in the world — Metallica (and they didn’t get that way without airing their own dirty laundry very publicly from revealing in various cover stories tales of the drummer being fellated under the stage nightly during the bass solo to the somewhat drippier venereal complications).

Anyway, they were somewhere in the middle of the bill on one of those late 1980s “Monsters of Rock” concerts at RFK Stadium in Washington, I think it was. There was a lot of waiting around in the days they were all lumped together without their own private jets or drivers and everyone seemed to be in a grumpy mood, particularly James Hetfield, who was sitting next to two fairly unattractive girls who could have been models — only for one of those “BEFORE” acne-medication ads.

Instead of his usual warm greeting, James barely grunted at me that he was doing an “interview.” Which was a little strange, given that he was not really even having a conversation with the skinnier one of the two girls, who was not equipped with any of the usual tools of the trade, like a tape recorder or pencil or piece of paper, only a flimsy little sun-dress which was only remarkable in its cheapness and that it was fairly inappropriate for the weather but did reveal all of her other lack of equipment in every other department.

James suddenly got up, jerking her by the wrist, and disappeared toward the bathroom where other members of the crew and band were, eager to try out the brand new little video cameras (they had just come on the market) they had been playing with. Kirk Hammett also grabbed what I called my Helen Keller camera — one of those point and shoot 35 mm things (this was in the pre-digital era) that even she could have operated.

There was a great deal of commotion when James discovered that Kirk was holding them both over the top of the bathroom stall — where — well, several months later, when I had forgotten all about it and the prints came back from the developer, I was shocked to discover, right in the middle of some happy family vacation, exactly what he was doing with this young lady crouched on the toilet and could not believe that I had not been arrested for pornography. Then again, maybe that only happens if it involves pictures of children and it was VERY clear in vivid living color that James was NO child.

It was almost the end of Metallica as we knew it, when James suddenly roared out of the bathroom, grabbing Kirk by the throat with one hand and the video camera, from which he ripped the film, with the other, before stomping on it and practically smashing the guitarist’s head against the wall as he begged for mercy.”

[melancholicstation]

The Socially Active Secretary: Chapter Three

pairing: robert francis kennedy female ❤︎ original character charlotte agapov (secretary!reader)

author's note: a little impromptu diner date ... well why not

synopsis: charlotte agapov, a divorcee whom recently moved back to the states after a disastrous lovers quarrel, assumes the secretarial position to the most important man in America, but it is not he who has captured her attention, no. instead, it's his meek younger brother, the runt of the kennedy pack, bobby francis kennedy.

[ 1640 words ]

taglist: @kennediva @absurdlyvintage @bloxholden35 @astro-vibes-bro @h-l-vlovesvintage @kimcrystal123 @krazyforkennedy @fortheloveofjos @remotewatch

chapter one, two, three

masterlist, charlotte moodboard, rfk moodboard

Chapter Three

May 3rd, 1962

Charlotte started off her evening with a plate of boiled eggs and butter, and steaming coffee on the hotplate. Dressed in a cotton voile nightgown with a smocking along the neckline, that was constricting in a pleasant manner. Since her aunt had gone into town to visit one of her, despite her genuine personality, many toffee-nosed, haughty friends in Plymouth Charlotte was left to her own devices. A state of being that Charlotte would come to know was entirely dangerous.

This loneliness of Charlotte had birthed a new idea of hers that she should re-engage with the nightlife that she had so recklessly abandoned in her early twenties. Charlotte felt that those nights were the only ones in which she truly felt like the woman she had been forced to push down.

The nineteen year-old version of Charlotte seemed to be football stadium sized gulfs away from the 29 year old woman she had morphed into. Nineteen year old Charlotte was free, and accompanied by a girlish charm of ambivalence and whimsy. In all her glory dressed in her jumpsuit and chainmail balaclava, eating steak tartare and drinking whiskey sours at Harry Cipriani every night. This nose-dove into nostalgia turned into Charlotte, through the assistance of a very rickety very unstable wicker chair, finding old photo albums kept in the attic of her aunt that her mom had stored years ago. Some were of Charlotte departing in and out of restaurants with a big, bright grin on her face, others of her with some friends from boarding school. They were all pictured posing very dramatically on top of each other in such a way that instantly gave way to the fact that they all had done theatre as adolescents.

As a result of this Charlotte decided that she was going to make the most out of this getaway and book a four course tasting for one at Cuvée at Chatham Inn. How decedent!, she thought. She could feel her excitement churning up inside her, what a silly thing to get excited to spend dinner along Charlotte thought, teasing herself. But the predicament of what she was going to wear however, was less exhilarating for the young woman.

She had now been staring down the mate-shift closet she had made in the interim period of her stay in the cape for almost an hour, searching for something to fit the opulence of the Curvée that wasn't in the dull muted tones that Charlotte had dressed herself in lately. Most items were textured mohair, cotton, or suede in organised colours of military green, cloudy brown, and porcelain. Certainly not fit for the Chatham Inn that's for sure. That was, until Charlotte in her almost manic manhunt for the perfect outfit came across her equivalent of the green light in the Gatsby novel; a strapless satin minidresses gathered at the hem in light khaki.

The best option of a bad bunch sure, but it would have to do. She opted for a pair of wedges in patent leather and a hand-painted shoulder bag given to Charlotte by her esoterically inclined grandmother from her dad's side. After applying rouge and lipstick all in shades reminiscent of smoked salmon, she gathered her hair in a half-up half-down style that she had remembered dog-earing in the April issue of Women's Weekly. And with that, she pranced out the door.

Cervée wasn't a quick walk so Charlotte called a car to drive her to the Inn. Charlotte should really look into the mindfulness her mother had been just raving about in their most recent call, because it appeared that Charlotte had zoned out for the entirety of the 20 minute car ride and only been broken from the trance at the prompt of the driver asking for a 20% tip, which she would then politely give.

As she entered the Inn, and was promptly escorted to the private dining space of the restaurant by a man donned in black dress pants, Charlotte was greeted by the aroma of cinnamon and patchouli filling all her fourth sense.

The room seemed calmly bare with only one person at the bar, and another elderly couple seated by the bay window facing the coastline.

The first course, Hamachi was delectable and paired with an equally excellent wine pairing. However Charlotte was temporarily distracted by the voice of the person ordering a second Mai Tai cocktail, a voice so familiar that Charlotte was sure she had heard it before. But just as Charlotte's curiosity could get the best of her the second course was brought out.

The second course was sea scallops, with a side of celery root, grapefruit and fennel. It was of Charlotte's opinion that the food got better at each course. Throughout the interim of her second course Charlotte had willed this familiar stranger to turn his head, either to confirm that yes, he was the man she had run into in the lighthouse, or that her persistent loneliness had finally caught up to Charlotte and she had begun going into delirium. Charlotte's misery was cut short as the mystery man suddenly turned his head, his penetrating blue eyes framed by mousy blond tendrils circling in on the sat figure that was Charlotte from across the room. So that is Bobby, she thought.

Oh no, the poor man must think I'm some crazed stalker following him around the cape, I wouldn't be all that surprised if he got up and left right this instance, Charlotte mused inwardly. However these thoughts were put to rest as Robert made his way across the floor, with the beauty and grace of a seasoned Juilliard trained ballerina.

"Funny place to find you Charlotte, I mused you as more of a diner girl, I guess I thought wrong now didn't I?" He chuckles in a self-conscious way designed to defuse the unmarked tension between the pair.

"Oh how wrong you were Bobby, how very wrong" Charlotte admonishes in jest, giggling in her delivery. Charlotte could practically hear the voice of her mother urging that such a sound should not come from a dignified woman over the age of twenty. But she couldn't find much in herself to care at the moment, not when the man in front of her brought out feelings that Charlotte couldn't yet assign a name to.

"Would you mine me sitting down a moment, I'm afraid I've been on my feet since 4am"

"Four am?" Charlotte nearly spills her drink in her dumbfounded delivering--"What on earth kind of employer has you filling in those kinds of hours?"

"Working for my brother that's who" Bobby states with a reverent look of pride in his eyes.

"Oh your brother, would I know him by chance?"

"Maybe-maybe not" Bobby remarks in a tone not dissimilar to a school boy who had just set up a prank for his teacher. Despite this Charlotte finds charm in it.

As the third course is brought out the pair continue talking about trivial things, while Bobby shovels small amounts of parmesan into his mouth while effortlessly keeping up conversation.

To the unbeknownst eye, or to bypasses at the Inn, the pair looked as though they had been lovers for as long as they had been alive.

But evidently they had not, and so the questions begun

"Now what's an girl with a ring on talking to a guy like me for" he states, while motioning his hand towards the sapphire oval ring set in 18-karat white gold glimmering on Charlottes fourth finger of her left hand.

Shoot, Charlotte thought. Her daily routine of putting on her wedding ring had stuck, even after the divorce. "It's not what you think, I promise. I've recently got divorced and y'know old habits die hard I guess." She says while chuckling nervously, bracing herself for Bobby to be completely turned away by her awkward and rambling justification.

But instead he simply smiles in a manner so disarming that it seems to immediately regulate her nervous system. "Not a problem with me at all. I have certainly had my fix of lovers quarrels Charlotte, I'll tell you that".

"Oh really? do tell Bobby please it's only fair" Charlotte pleads.

Bobby immediately concedes and goes into a particularly hilarious tale of him trying to ask a girl to homecoming, only to find out she had already been asked out by two of his own brothers.

This prompts Charlotte to ask about his luck in love after high school, to which his whole demeanour seems to shift as he quickly rushes out that he fell in love with a girl who then, as it turns out, fell in love with her ski instructor instead, leaving him at the altar of nineteen fifty.

At this revelation Charlotte decides to back off and move onto lighter topics. Here she learns of Bobby's two dogs that he fathers; a Newfoundland named "brumes" and a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named "freckles".

By the fourth course, steelhead trout and coconut lime sage, Bobby and Charlotte's chairs are now paralleled with each other and increasingly close. As Charlotte looks up to somewhere other than the man in front of her for the first time in what she could imagine could've easily been two hours, she sees that the time is bordering on 8pm. Bobby catches on, and draws his eyes to the clock.

"I guess we should head out before they kick us out huh, Wouldn't want to be banned from Carvée now would we?" Robert remarks.

"Oh the horrors it would be!" Charlotte laughs.

As the pair reaches the driveway of the Inn, a tense silence falls upon the two. No, not a silence born out of boredom but of yearning.

"So--shall we go back to my place?"

End of Chapter Three

[getyourwings]

RFK Stadium 1976 🤍

[istandonsnowpiles]

Tree in the Parking Lot

[joannkennedy]

Joan Kennedy at the RFK Pro-Celebrity Tennis Tournament in Forest Hills Stadium in New York City on August 26th, 1972.

[mrskennedy]

Jackie Onassis and Ethel Kennedy at the RFK Pro Celebrity Tennis Tournament at the Forest Hills Stadium in New York City on August 23rd, 1975.

[mrbopst]

October 3, 1971: Diron Talbert and Chris Hanburger sack Craig Morton for a 7-yard loss in the first quarter of the NFL week 3 game between the Washington Redskins and Dallas Cowboys at RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C. The Redskins beat the Cowboys 20-16. Washington's points were scored on a first quarter, 57-yard run by Charlie Harraway, a 2nd quarter, 50-yard touchdown pass from Billy Kilmer to Roy Jefferson and 2 second half field goals by kicker Curt Knight.

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

Steven Tyler after show at RFK Stadium in Washington, 1976. Photo by Fin Costello.

[thenewdemocratus]

Top Gunna: NFL 1991-Washington Redskins Highlights

. Source:The New Democrat  What I remember about the 1991 Redskins as a fifteen and sixteen year old, is how dominant they were. They didn’t win games, but they simply beat teams on both sides of the ball. Probably the most physical defense that they’ve ever had. Which is saying something, because they were always big and strong on defense under Joe Gibbs in the 1980s. But if you watch the 1991…