Hog Mania in High Places

Every stadium has its loyal lunatic fringe, but in Washington many of the most fervent fanatics also run the Government. The unique mix of power and passion is assessed by TIME Washington Contributing Editor Hugh Sidey.

If a city ever understood pork, it is Washington. One more joke about the Bay of Pigs (Hogs in Tampa Bay, get it?) and the nation's capital may gag on its own smirks. Take pity. It has been so long since anything in Washington worked with the decisiveness of the Redskins that the power fans are a little silly.

No. 1 Fan Ronald Reagan had a double meaning in his toast last week to China's visiting Premier Zhao Ziyang when he saw good fortune for both nations in the "Year of the Pig" just past. Redskins Quarterback Joe Theismann, a guest at the elegant dinner, read it right. Just to be certain nothing was lost, Reagan whispered to a friend on the dance floor, "There's a good omen in that for those Hogs."

Hog fans, old and new, were in frenzy. Something about sports and politics attracts. Both are sudden-death games. Congressman Jack Kemp, the former Bills quarterback who now calls signals for the advocates of the gold standard, rates this Super Bowl just below the invasion of Grenada and above another House budget fight. He would not miss it. Columnist Carl Rowan says he might kill if he were denied a ticket. He is going in Owner Jack Kent Cooke's jetted and pampered entourage. ''Everybody has a little aggression in them," insists Rowan. "We can all get emotionally involved and get rid of it out on the grass instead of having another bombing contest."

Speaker Thomas P. O'Neill plans the pilgrimage, assuring that half the political machine will be shut down. The other half will be on hold. White House Chief of Staff James Baker, a Texan and a Cowboys nut, is weakening. He may attend along with Michael Deaver, another of the Reagan triumvirate. Senator Paul Laxalt heads south, and so does Cabinet Officer William Brock, the President's trade expert. Watergate Judge John J. Sirica will be under Cooke's wing, loving the thunder on the turf and delighted he won't have to make a single call all day. Restaurateur Duke Zeibert is aboard. "Politicians are kids too," he says. He should know, having filled their ample stomachs for 30 years. If the Hogs do their work, he will bake them a cake, or a hundred, whatever it takes.

All of the 16,500 Tampa tickets allocated to Washington were bought up in a few hours. More than twice that many might have been. Redskins season-ticket holders of decades got their checks back with regrets. Not since Watergate had lobbyists and big-time fixers been so outraged. "It would be like asking me to halt death and stop taxes," shrugged Cooke. "I have no control over it."

Well, not exactly. Former CIA Director and Ambassador to Iran Richard Helms, who at first had his check returned, came in out of the cold into Cooke's warm grasp. Intrigue was everywhere. At week's end Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General John Vessey ordered a full-scale battle plan launched for two strategically placed seats. Soviet spies will doubtless pick up odd movements this weekend. Vessey and his friend Major General Menachem Meron, an official in the Israeli Defense Ministry, will probably fly down together. General Meron, it turns out, is a Hog enthusiast, and it is not against his religion.