Whether he knows it or not, this is Mike Shanahan’s Welcome to Washington Moment. Just about every Redskins coach has one, usually sooner rather than later. It’s that moment when he realizes he’s not in Kansas anymore – or in Shanahan’s case, Denver. (The experience is similar, in many respects, to what an ant goes through when a magnifying glass is aimed at it.)

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Nothing can really prepare you for being coach of the Redskins – unless, like Joe Gibbs, you’ve been the coach of the Redskins before. The fans are so single-minded, their focus so intense, that it can be kind of jarring when those forces are turned against you.

Typically, a Welcome to Washington Moment is triggered by one of three things – a bad loss, a dumb decision or a silly excuse. So if Shanahan is feeling a bit overexposed these days, it’s because, well, he hit the trifecta in Detroit.

First his team lost to the Lions – the 4-42 Lions – and looked lousy doing it.

Then he created a needless controversy by benching six-time Pro Bowler Donovan McNabb in the last two minutes and replacing him with never-a-Pro Bowler Rex Grossman (who was sacked on the first play, fumbled and handed Detroit its final touchdown).

Then he compounded the felony by not being forthright about the reasons for the switch. After the game, he said he put Grossman in because Rex has a better grasp of the hurry-up offense. The next day, though, he said McNabb was battling leg injuries, hadn’t been able to practice much recently and might not have had the “cardiovascular” wherewithal – with no timeouts at his disposal – to take the unit down the field.

Or something like that. It was all so surreal.

Anyway, in a flash, the honeymoon was over for Michael Edward Shanahan. No longer was he – in the eyes of many, at least – a Master of the Offensive Universe, a back-to-back Super Bowl winner and the potential savior of the franchise. He was just a coach who, when his X’s kept getting shoved around by the other club’s O’s, pitched a fit (and when asked to explain his strange behavior, came across like a used car salesman).

The pendulum will probably swing back for Shanahan eventually. But he’s definitely lost some of his sheen. Let’s face it, no time is more revealing than a time of crisis, and when Shanny found himself backed against a wall, he proceeded to turn a containable situation into a raging wildfire – one that will burn for two weeks and possibly longer.

With no game to look forward to Sunday, Redskins Nation will spend their idle hours wondering How It Came to This. They’ll look at the rickety offensive line Shanahan has assembled and ask: Why did he spend a draft pick and millions of dollars on a right tackle (Jammal Brown) who, after hip surgery, is still damaged goods? Why, for that matter, didn’t he cut Derrick Dockery – perhaps the league’s best-paid inactive guard – at the end of camp and use Dock’s money on, say, a No. 2 receiver? Deion Branch, for one, was available.

This is what Welcome to Washington Moments are like. Suddenly, everything, down to the last paper clip, is subject to review. This being the home of the congressional hearing, Redskins fans – and we media types, too – can be very good at asking uncomfortable questions . . . and uncovering painful truths. We can be particularly motivated to do this when we feel, as in this instance, that the coach has been talking down to us or not leveling with us. Then the gloves really come off.

The back-chatter about Shanahan the past few days – on message boards, Facebook, Twitter (choose your medium) – has been pretty brutal. And understandably so. It shakes a fan base when a coach makes a move that’s so second-guessable – and it blows up in his face like an exploding cigar. Fans, you see, like to think the coach is smarter than they are, and when they’re presented with evidence to the contrary it freaks them out.

As Shanahan is learning, Redskins fans are like helicopter parents. They care about the team down to the 61st player (yes, practice squad included). They certainly care about how the coach treats the starting quarterback – especially after watching Brad Johnson, a year after leading the club to its last division title, get booted out the door (and into the arms of the Super Bowl-bound Bucs).

This is what you sign on for when you agree to coach the Redskins. You also accept the fact that, no matter how experienced you are or how much homework you’ve done, you’re not going to be totally ready for what you’re getting into. At some point, despite your very best efforts, you’re likely to have a Welcome to Washington Moment. 

Mike Shanahan, this is yours.