Washington Football’s only path to genuine integrity is without Daniel Snyder

Commissioner Roger Goodell and the other team owners are learning what everyone who associates with Snyder inevitably does: No one who deals with him emerges clean or intact; everyone walks away choked on his fumes, feeling violated, cheated, misled. Think about it. His livid business partners, led by Dwight Schar, are trying to sell stakes in the team, alleging mismanagement and a withheld dividend. The city of Richmond had to use millions from a school fund to help cover a sour training camp deal. He bankrupted Six Flags, after taking it over by stockholder coup. He foisted expired beer and old airline peanuts on fans, sued a 72-year-old grandmother for just $66,000. The list is endless. The man has all the conscience of a muddy lawn gnome.

But no one has been more maltreated and exploited than Washington’s cheerleaders and other female employees. Fully 40 have come forward, some in the face of intimidation. No doubt league investigator Beth Wilkinson has developed a thick file, and if the cryptic legal filings that came to light Monday are any indication, it contains more than what has already been disclosed, such as cheerleaders being subjected to the circulation of surreptitious nipple and crotch shots without permission, and the routine, leering sexual harassment at every level.

You don’t need to see inside sealed legal filings to understand that the foulness wafted down from the top. All you have to do is watch Snyder say one thing and do another. He frantically tries to rebrand himself publicly, hiring attractive newcomers and spouting platitudes about a new “respectful and inclusive culture,” and in the next breath he complains it’s all a “hit job,” hires private eyes who paid menacing visits to female complainants — coincidentally just as Wilkinson began her inquiry — and files reams of serpentine, entangling legal suits.

Everyone in the Washington football club’s building, from Rivera to team president Jason Wright, should understand this: They’re nothing more than temporary body men, shields to absorb this mud and flak for the owner.

They also should understand that if Snyder remains, they don’t have a chance. Every new coach and GM thinks he’s the guy who can handle this owner. They all start out thinking, “He’s not so bad; he’s nice to me.” They’re wrong. Snyder is an insurmountably malign influence on the team, and he will turn. He eagerly promises the world when he needs you, and as soon as he doesn’t or is displeased, he reneges and schemes and disposes of you. Rivera and Wright are lucky that Snyder is in an exceptionally needy and distracted cycle.

But unfortunately, a big win tends to awaken Snyder’s need to tamper. He can’t tolerate being a marginal figure in an exciting run. He’s hands-off with the losers. His worst tendencies emerge when they win a little. That’s when he starts turning up in the draft room and cultivating locker room informants. There have been fresh starts with new coaches on the field before, and none lasted. All of them descended into organizational fracture laced with spite within five years.

Imagine if Washington could be free of him, free of this tiresome, shabby, dirty cycle. Imagine if the league did what it should, compelled a sale because of Snyder’s “conduct detrimental to the welfare of the league or professional football.”

Imagine if the club was owned by a straightforward businessman of sound practice and decency. One who knew his role and his place — and knew it wasn’t in the locker room or creeping out cheerleaders. One who could get a deal done for a new stadium, right in D.C., which at the moment won’t trust Snyder with a dime of money or a foot of free land. One who behaved as a steward of an iconic organization, instead of treating it like his personal party boat. One who would treat ticket holders as valued underwriters of the team instead of saps to be gouged.

It’s a good week to imagine that. Maybe someday it will become reality.