The T-shirt transcends football and even the man it honors.

It is a reminder of an electrical evening — December 7, 2007 — when the Washington Redskins returned on a Thursday night after burying Sean Taylor and whipped the Chicago Bears.

There are many memories embedded in every thread of this shirt — Sean himself, a week off from covering the ins and outs of the Randy Parton debacle back in Roanoke Rapids and a chance to be with friends in a place that I hold dear — FedEx Field.

I bought the shirt after the game from some guy outside the stadium who was purportedly going to give the proceeds to Sean’s family. I never bought that notion because the shirt was only $5 and I didn’t see any mechanism for recording receipts. But a $5 T-shirt is hard to pass up.

Since then the shirt has served me well and I have worn it every Super Bowl Sunday as a reminder of what might have been if Sean was still alive today. It has served as a pajama top, walking shirt and a shirt to wear on those days I knew I wasn’t going to be doing anything but nothing on a weekend.

The Taylor memorial patch on my Redskins jersey.

It serves as a happy reminder because, while Randy Parton was getting the boot from the Roanoke Rapids Theatre, I was enjoying myself in Landover, Maryland, watching my favorite football team. It serves as a sad reminder because I was part of many Redskin fans across the nation mourning the loss of the hardest hitter in the NFL.

I should have probably never worn this shirt but my pride as a Redskins fan told me it was better to wear it than have it serve as a shrine. I have a Sean Taylor 21 towel and a Redskins jersey with his number on a black background to serve that purpose.

I noticed the other day, however, the shirt has become worn after nearly six years of wear and tear, the print fading and holes developing in it.

I realized today it is getting close to retiring, probably past that time. I gave it a washing, threw it in the dryer and couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness about this shirt.

My T-shirt plight reminds me of The Marine Biologist episode of Seinfeld in which Jerry tells us his favorite shirt — Golden Boy — is dying.

“But see, look at the collar, see it’s fraying,” Jerry tells a disinterested Elaine. “Golden Boy is slowly dying. Each wash brings him one step closer, that’s what makes the T-shirt such a tragic figure.” 

When Elaine tells him to soak it in fabric softener Jerry is offended. “No,” he screams. “The reason he’s the iron man is because he goes out there and plays every game. Wash. Spin. Rinse. Spin. You take that away from him, you break his spirit.”

Fans of the show know Golden Boy eventually dies and is replaced with Baby Blue, Golden Boy’s son.

I’m not sure what my Baby Blue will be but I can tell you this — I will probably never part with this Sean Taylor shirt because it holds too many memories and transcends football and the man it honors — Lance Martin

Lance Martin is editor and publisher of rrspin.com