- Obama downplays IRS scandal, blames Obamacare rollout on ‘outdated’ agencies
- Pregnancies decline overall, up among older women
- Pentagon plans to destroy Syrian chemical arms on ship at sea
- Paris Metro issues ‘politeness manual’ to improve passengers’ behavior
- Justin Bieber, crew detained at Australian airport in drug search
- Lee Rigby trial: Muslim who machete-hacked soldier calls it ‘humane’ kill
- GM ending Chevy sales in Europe to focus on Opel and Vauxhall
- Putin’s diplomats to U.S. busted for living high life off $1.5M bilked from Medicaid
- Happy Meal: Couple goes to McDonald’s, leaves with bag packed with cash
- Boehner: It took me 3 to 4 hours to sign up for Obamacare
Why such hatred toward America's freedom of religion?
Independent voices from the The Washington Times Communities
Topic - Randall Cunningham
Since the advent of free agency in the early 1990s, it's a common story around the NFL: A player gets drafted by a team and puts in his best years there, connecting with the fans and the city and leaving his own indelible mark with the franchise, to say nothing of a Super Bowl ring or two.
Redskins quarterback Robert Griffin III is a game-changer, a player who not only changes games but also has changed the game of football with his combination of speed, smarts and skill. He is Randall Cunningham. He is Steve Young. He is Brett Favre. He is all of those things.
A win in Dallas on Thanksgiving, another over the New York Giants on "Monday Night Football," and suddenly Robert Griffin III is a national phenomenon — a rookie with the NFL's top-selling jersey, a name politicians love to drop. It can happen quickly, can't it? Almost as quickly as Griffin can run the 40. In his case, just 12 games into his pro career.
Running quarterbacks were oxymorons in the NFL, as curious a term as "blocking offensive linemen." Running was the nature of each back in the backfield -- whether he was a quarter, half or full -- until a metamorphism began about 75 years ago.
Almost every hour of the day is Tebow Time in Denver.
The Gospel and the gridiron are inextricably intertwined in Tim Tebow's world.
Nobody knows what will come of the Tim Tebow experiment, not even those scrambling ramblers who came before him.
What happened to Steve Francis? It depends on who you ask.