Jason Kelce had what he thought was a broadcasting gaffe on Sunday, but it opened a window into a conversation that still divides Washington and the broader sports world.
During an NFL Network broadcast of the Commanders-Colts game, the former Philadelphia Eagles center called the burgundy and gold team by its former name: the Redskins. He immediately caught himself, expressing visible concern about the error as play-by-play announcer Dave Pasch gently corrected him.
"You said Redskins," Pasch noted.
"Oh, my gosh!" Kelce replied. "I almost made it out."
It was a telling reaction. The three analysts in the booth had apparently discussed beforehand the likelihood of accidentally using the old nickname on air, even making a "gentleman's bet" about who would slip first. That Kelce anticipated the mistake says something about the current broadcast environment and how carefully the sports world now navigates the team's 2020 name change.
The team had been called the Washington Redskins since 1937, through decades of dominance and heartbreak, through legendary players like Sonny Jurgensen and countless memories embedded in local culture. In 2020, amid a national reckoning over racial justice and indigenous representation, owner Josh Harris decided the franchise would rebrand as the Washington Commanders.
The conversation around that decision remains unresolved in many corners of Washington and beyond. Kelce himself played against the team during nine of his 13 seasons with the Eagles, and like many players who faced them, he still carries the memory of that old identity.
There is genuine disagreement, even today, about whether the name change was necessary. Polling has shown significant support for returning to the Redskins name. Yet indigenous advocacy groups and many community leaders have long argued the term is disrespectful and rooted in painful history.
Native American communities themselves have never spoken with one voice on this issue. Some tribal leaders and indigenous people said the name causes harm; others have expressed different perspectives. Religious and community organizations weighed in. Team executives made a business calculation alongside cultural considerations.
Kelce's slip reveals how much has changed in broadcast standards and team identity in five years. The fact that he felt compelled to apologize suggests how delicate this terrain has become.
But the old name is woven into decades of Washington football history. Fans who grew up with the Redskins, players who wore that uniform, coaches who built dynasties under that banner don't simply forget. The name change was a deliberate organizational decision, and it's now official. Yet the emotional attachment to what came before remains real and widespread.
Local civic institutions, regional media and team leadership have generally aligned behind the Commanders brand. Younger fans will grow up knowing only the new name. But for those who spent lifetimes following the franchise as the Redskins, the transition isn't always seamless, as Kelce's instinctive use of the old name on live television demonstrates.
Kelce's role as a booth analyst is relatively new—he retired from playing three years ago and is still settling into broadcast work. By all accounts, he's particularly sharp when breaking down offensive line play, which makes sense given his Hall of Fame caliber performance at that position. A slip of the tongue during live analysis hardly undermines his credibility as a commentator.
What's worth paying attention to is the larger pattern. The Washington area has invested in the Commanders rebrand through new logos, merchandise and stadium discussions. The organization has moved forward officially and definitively. Yet Kelce's instinctive reach for the old name suggests the cultural shift remains incomplete for many people, even in professional broadcasting circles.
Communities don't change their institutional identities overnight. Kelce will likely be more careful going forward. New broadcasters will have never known the team by any other name. Eventually, the Commanders identity will feel as natural as the Redskins once did.
For now, this small moment on air captures something real about how these transitions work—how they require not just official mandates from ownership, but also time for the people who grew up with the old identity to adjust their instincts and language.
