Dan Snyder is selling the Commanders in part because of the bravery of women. How did 2 of them react when they heard?

Melanie Coburn had just gotten through security at the airport, headed to Tampa to see Taylor Swift with a dear friend at Raymond James Stadium when the text message came:

There was an agreement in principle for Dan Snyder to sell the Washington Commanders.

Coburn had to pause before heading to her gate, and she cried in the terminal.

Coburn was one of the women who stepped forward and refused to back down about the toxic workplace culture that permeated Washington's business office and included the franchise's cheerleading team.

"It's tears of relief, it's tears of joy that we did it, that we actually had an impact and made a difference and that it wasn't in vain," Coburn told Yahoo Sports this week. "And that finally there would be some sort of accountability for everything that went on in that organization for so long."

Why there's a pause before a full-on celebration of Snyder leaving the NFL

Snyder, once considered a boy wonder who bought the team he grew up rooting for when he was 34 years old, had a well-earned reputation as a jerk long before the wheels started to fall off a couple of years ago and seemed like he'd stay in power no matter what.

He once vowed to USA Today that he would "NEVER" change the team nickname from the dictionary-defined racial slur it carried for decades. He insisted that everyone from media to peers call him "Mr. Snyder," and his beloved team became known primarily for two things: winning only the offseason through free-agent signings that were largely terrible decisions and Snyder's outsized ego.

Then came 2018, when The New York Times reported gross mistreatment of Washington team cheerleaders. But things began to ramp up in 2020, when 15 women came forward to the Washington Post to allege a culture of sexual harassment in team offices. That number grew to nearly 40 women in a subsequent Post story.

Women who worked for the team alleged that they were degraded and harassed, regarded as meat for drooling male executives, and they said Snyder didn't just turn a blind eye to the behavior — he participated in it. There were videos allegedly made for Snyder from cheerleader photoshoots, created without the women's permission, that spliced together moments when a breast or other body part might have been uncovered as women repositioned themselves. There was an allegation that Snyder tried to coerce one woman to go with a team doctor to his hotel room, and multiple women alleged that he made sexual advances toward them. Snyder denied the claims.

Beyond that, recent reporting has shown that Snyder received a $55 million loan without the required permission of his then-minority partners, which has led to a criminal inquiry from the IRS and FBI. He has become so toxic that he hasn't been able to get public funding for a new stadium to replace the crumbling, largely empty one the Commanders call home.

And now, finally, it looks like Snyder will be gone.

But another woman who spoke out about Washington's cesspool atmosphere, Megan Imbert, isn't ready to celebrate yet.

"I think that the fact that this is happening is just so great for the city. It's great for the fans. It's great for the NFL to get the Snyders [Dan and his wife, Tanya, the team's co-CEO] out of ownership," Imbert told Yahoo Sports. "But I think for me, until it's final-final, I might feel more excited. It was definitely some good news, in terms of this was something folks never thought would be a possibility."

Talking a few days after the agreement in principle had been reported and after traveling to support a friend running the Boston Marathon, Imbert said she's had moments when she got teary, but she hasn't fully soaked in that the sale is imminent.

'I think I'd be happier if these other folks stood up for what is right'

Imbert also feels lingering frustration that NFL team owners didn't push Snyder out years ago, which is understandable, particularly since the opposite seems to be true. The league and its ownership class kept the findings of the first investigation into Washington's workplace culture vague and embarrassingly brief, effectively protecting Snyder through every bad headline despite fining the franchise $10 million. It has also seemingly slow-walked the current investigation into workplace harassment allegations that include an accusation that Snyder himself sexually harassed an employee.

"That still stings a bit because there's not a lot of people in this scenario that really did the right thing," Imbert said. "The people that did the right thing were the brave people that came forward, the media that continue to push and expose the truth, and Congress pursuing this ... I think I'd be happier if these other folks stood up for what is right, and that's the disappointing thing for me."

Unfortunately for Coburn, Imbert and their fellow Washington whistleblowers, the NFL doesn't have a stellar track record of doing the right thing, especially in recent years. This is a league that does the bare minimum to protect its players, without whom there is no product. Expecting it to do the right thing for women victimized in team offices, the usually faceless employees who make game days their best and keep the lights on at facilities, is seemingly an exercise in futility.

That doesn't mean they're going to stop pushing. They've come this far, fighting back those who said that revealing their experiences would never lead to Snyder selling. They dealt with the stress and anxiety of staring down the owner of a once-widely beloved team and an incredibly powerful league, not just enduring their experiences working for the team but also reliving those terrible times for one investigation that was kept opaque, a second in which it remains to be seen if the powers that be will keep their word that the full findings will be made public and for some in front of the world in a Congressional roundtable.

On Wednesday, the Washington Post reported on a letter that lawyers representing more than 40 former Washington employees, including Coburn and Imbert, sent to NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. They are asking Goodell and the league's franchise owners to ban Snyder from taking legal action against those who have participated in the investigations of him as part of the conditions of the franchise's sale.

It seems like the absolute least that the league could do at this point, and logic says that if Snyder tried to sue the former employees, he'd be opening himself up to discovery. But Snyder once sued a 72-year-old grandmother who was a longtime season-ticket holder devastated financially by the 2008 recession, so the request from attorneys Lisa Banks and Debra Katz to protect their clients makes sense.

Dan Snyder is about to exit one of the most exclusive clubs in the world. It's because of these women and their co-workers who backed them. It hasn't been easy, but they can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

"It's surreal to know that we're kind of at the center of this storm," Imbert said. "And I think it's inspiring to know that it ended up becoming a domino effect in terms of one thing leading to another and never losing sight and being persistent. I think we all feel a bit of this, like, 'Wow, we were really part of this situation coming to fruition.'"

Coburn hopes they can be an inspiration to others, especially girls such as her niece and those fighting through similar workplace situations.

"That's why we do it, right? I hope to inspire them not to let this happen, not to look the other way and speak up," Coburn said. "We have a voice, and we need to use it so that we can not only help ourselves but help others and create a safe environment for those coming behind us."