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Tuesday, June 2: Redskins Go To Six Flags

Posted by Matt Terl on June 2, 2009 – 11:10 am

Last night, Redskins players and coaches — along with their familes, Redskins staffers, and premium seatholders — had the run of Six Flags. Doors were closed to the general public, lines were kept to a minimum, concession stands offered free samples of their wares, and a good time was had by all.

As you can imagine, it was a quiet, low-key kind of event. Here, for example, is Clinton Portis, walking through the park with a Six Flags security guard, a Six Flags guest attendant, and a rolling, constantly changing group of dozens of his close, personal friends (and autograph seekers).

(That’s Clinton in the hat and light blue shirt in the middle left of the photo — the one everyone else is facing. The security guard to the left of the photo is moments away from yelling at me for stopping directly in front of the caravan, which was about all she could do at this point.)

The players really were pretty much given the run of the park, aside from one posed photo opportunity with the Six Flags mascot, Mr. Six.

You might recognize Mr. Six from the ubiquitous ad campaign, which featured an actual (or at least realistic-looking) elderly guy dancing enthusiastically to the Vengaboys. Mr. Six, the mascot, is a much younger person — the better to accomplish the elaborate, frequent dance moves his job requires — with a latex mask that I found slightly creepy, and thick square glasses. The net effect is unsettling, and I mentioned that to Fred Smoot (looking away in the center of the photo, in the striped polo shirt).

“In a nice way, though, he looks like a twin of [Antwaan] Randle El,” he said. “A caucasian, bald-headed Randle El.” I’m not sure I see it, but you be the judge. Randle El just before yesterday’s photo:

And Mr. Six, moments later:

For what it’s worth, Shaun Suisham thought the mask was impressive. So what do I know?

Anyhow, everyone seemed to have a good time, but perhaps the most in his glory was Rocky McIntosh. McIntosh has been talking on Twitter about how he’s planning a second career as a “professional roller coaster rider,” (albeit only seasonally), and he did a good job of working toward those aspirations yesterday.

It’s tough to see, but that’s McIntosh in the front seat of the Superman roller coaster, which he declared his favorite immediately after exiting. When I asked him why, McIntosh — who has shown a terrifying ability to get me to do all sorts of things I usually might pass on — convinced me to ride the Batman rollercoaster with him.

The Batwing was one of those upside-down, lying-down, harnessed-in kind of coasters, which I — predictably — found fairly intense. (I was unsettled by the mascot, remember, an old man in a tuxedo who looks kind of like Antwaan Randle El. My standards for unsettling seem to be fairly low.)

Anyhow, once McIntosh determined that I had been suitably impressed by the Batman coaster, he took me with him to the Superman ride to demonstrate why it was vastly superior. The Superman coaster has no loops, and is more of the steep-hills/freefall variety. Here’s someone else’s YouTube footage of the first chunk of the ride; the video contains yelling, but — unlike me and the fourteen year-olds that surrounded me — the person running the camera here manages to keep it at a solid PG rating.

It is — at 205 feet — the highest and steepest drop that I’ve ever ever ridden, it was definitely better than the Batman coaster, and it was frankly terrifying. Partially for all the threat-to-life-and-limb reasons that roller coasters are usually terrifying, and partially because I was convinced that my keys, my camera, my other camera, my phone, and my wallet were going to fly out of my pockets and scatter over the entire amusement park.

So you would think I would’ve been less skeptical of Kedric Golston‘s fanny pack when I ran into him afterward, carrying a stuffed Scooby Doo.

Is that a fanny pack, I asked.

“You wish you had one,” he said.

I stopped and thought for a minute. You know, I said, I did keep thinking about my phone–

“–and your wallet, and your keys, and everything else, while you were on the rides. You think they’re going to fall out, right?”

I nodded.

“See? You wish you had a fanny pack,” he said, and walked away, Scooby Doo swinging happily over his shoulder.

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