NFL ACLB PREVIEWS - #3: PHILADELPHIA EAGLES

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El Gordo Desperado

At some point this winter, right around when the last snow hits in early march, a thirty-five year old man woke up from his slumber. He pulled his head off his Eagles pillow, carefully removed his eagles comforter, and lovingly looked over expecting to see his wife in her eagles pajamas, only she wasn't there. She was never there. She didn't exist. He decided, right then and there, that this was the year.

"This is the year", he told his friend Dave later that day, "this is the year they're finally going to do it". He said this every year. He was a cliche. Dave knew this. Dave often described his friend as trite and immature to others. But this year, Dave elected to believe him. Something about the man's catchphrase seemed honest this year. Maybe this was the year, Dave thought. We were a play away from the Superbowl. And we're younger, sleeker, more streamlined. Dave agreed, this was the year. Dave was drunk.

And so Dave told his friends, and they told theirs, until the news swept the Philadelphia metropolitan area like a more contrived version of Pay It Forward. This was the year. Except while everyone repeated it, most people didn't believe it was true. But then Obama came to town, and he told everyone that this was the year. And all the black people rejoiced, and since a lot of black people play for the Eagles, white people rejoiced as well knowing that this boost of confidence could very well make it the year for real. And then Obama signed on to play wide receiver, and would go on to catch 27 touchdown passes that season, including four in the superbowl, which the Eagles of course won. It truly was their year.

This is the only reasonable situation I can imagine that took place (and is still ongoing), that would account for everyone's enthusiasm this offseason. It took a lucky break, a horrific choke job, and a tie that our quarterback didn't even know could happen to get them to the postseason last year. The team has turned over, all the key veterans are gone. A preseason injury to a linebacker named Stewart Bradley put the whole city into panic mode. People say that Stewart Bradley is a great linebacker. People also say Andre Iguodala is a good basketball player. I remain dubious. I didn't even know whether Bradley was white or black until two weeks ago. He's white. If you ask me this question again in three years, I probably won't know.

There's one guy in Philadelphia (besides me) who calls bullshit. He told all his friends too, but his friends didn't tell all their friends because they aren't allowed. His friends are assistant coaches. His name is Andy Reid.

He looks at his team, and the injuries, and all the new, unproved players, and he thinks, "shit". He looks at the calls for his head on WIP last year during the season, and after the NFC championship game, and he thinks, "shittier". And he looks at the hype for this season, hype which he knows is unfounded, and he doesn't think anything at all. He was too busy convincing Joe Banner to sign Mike Vick.

I have no idea what capacity Vick will be used in. Maybe he will come in as a decoy. Maybe he will be a running back. Maybe he'll run the single wing (remember in the old days when people used to do that, and then last year one team did it and then everyone started doing it like a more contrived version of Pay It Forward? That was fun). Maybe he'll give David Akers herpes and ruin the whole season.

What I do know, is that the town is no longer talking championships and rings and trophies. They are talking about a guy who hasn't played football in well over a year. And if things go well, Andy Reid can hold a press conference and say, "Look at me. No one else took a chance with him. I'm the prettiest girl at the party". And if the season goes badly, regardless of how Vick plays, Reid can say, "What do you want from me? He destroyed the locker room, and you can't win like that. He won't be here next year."

But Reid will be here next year. And the year after, and probably the year after that. Because every year is the year, and every year he finds an excuse to hang around for one more.

seriously?

Evidently, there is a desire for a media shit storm in Philly of which I was unaware.

I cannot get my head around this, unless Ron Mexico got real good at middle linebacker in C block. Lots of ideas for the reason (i.e., back up QB Kolb is dinged, or a wild dog offense look with DJac taking the snap and BWest, DMac, and RMex spread) take backseat to the bizarreness.

I can't even come up with anything good, and I'm not used to having no words. We out Dallas-ed Dallas. How did all the other douches like Jerry and Snyder and Al let this happen? I am already exhausted and tired of the stupid discussions about second chances and the like and I haven't even heard them yet.

While I'm thinking of this, any shit I have to hear about this will be returned times ten when he gets traded to some desperate team with a QB down in week 6.

More later

No Further Comments

The game ended three hours ago, with the Eagles exposing just how valuable Brian Westbrook really is to this team by losing a snoozefest that somehow included somewhere between six and forty seven turnovers.

I just received this IM from a friend.

"im going to lynch myself around my 2 foot dick"

He immediately signed off, letting the statement speak for itself.

Impossibly, he somehow just described in nine words and one numeral exactly what the Eagles did tonight without knowing that he did so.

Quick Hits and a Bellyflop

Jim Johnson's return

ML- A couple years before I was hired as a ballboy, I was with my family visiting my brother at training camp. We got field passes from his boss, and were waiting for him at the players entrance. The team was rolling up as we stood there, and they all walked right by us without even noticing we were there, except for Jim Johnson. He limped up to the doorway, and sneered in our direction. You got the feeling that he was a crotchety old man, because he was a crotchety old man. The Pittsburgh game had him running blitz schemes that we haven't seen from him in years. The lack of defense in the Dallas game must have really fired him up, because you could see how badly everyone wanted to get off the line by all the offsides calls, which were minuscule compared to the pressure he put on Roethlisberger. If he was mic'ed up for the game, at some point we would have heard him scream, "GET OFF MY LAWN!" after another gang-sack.

BWT- I don't have the personal jock sniffing stories that Matty does but I feel for Jim Johnson. If only he were 54 and not 84 he would have his pick of NFL gigs and the Peter Kings of the world would gush over him. Instead when he dies he's going to be one of those blurbs on the bottom line you wished went by faster while your trying to look up the score of some meaningless baseball game you bet on. I was kinda fed up with the whole Jim Johnson send everyone on every play blitz thingy and I thought it was ready for him to move on after last season but maybe I was wrong. I dunno maybe Jim Johnson has 'WIN SUPERBOWL' on his bucket list.


The Dawkins Play

ML- Sheldon Brown blitzes from the blindside, and Roethlisberger barely escapes, he steps up into the pocket and Dawkins, also blitzing, breaks free from his block. Instead of just sacking Ben, he decides to launch himself up in the air, and bellyflop down on the ball, knocking it loose, and then recover it himself. This wasn't a play that only Dawkins could make, but it is a play that only Dawkins would make. Brian is one of the quietest dudes on the team, but Weapon X is fucking insane. I don't mean insane in that cutesy tutesy, look how hard he's trying, type way. I mean that he is a fucking psychopath. I've seen him threaten a ballboys life just by glaring at him over a game of Halo. Weapon X doesn't fuck around.

BWT- You could really make a case for Brian Dawkins being the best Eagle ever. Fuck Concrete Charlie and his mangled bitter old ass, Randall never won shit, the same goes for McNabb. I'm going with B-Dawk. Dude has given it his all his whole career and is like Matty said, insane. Last week there was a lot of talk in Philly that Dawkins was done since he got burned on a few plays on Monday. After the game Brian was limping towards the players entrance holding his back walking like an old man and then he just screamed "FUCK THAT SHIT!" and ran into the locker room all pumped up. Yeah I think he still has something in him.

Hank Baskett

ML - Every time I see Hank make a big catch over the middle, which he does a lot surprisingly, I'm always curious as to where his gameday balls are coming from. This is the guy who would repeatedly call me "sir" as an unsigned rookie free agent. The answer to my question came from deadspin this week. There's rumors going around that Hank Baskett is dating, or even engaged to, that one football fan playboy ho from The Girls Next Door. Even the jobberest of jobber athletes get access to top notch pussy. Hank Baskett's own parents have to wait for the announcers to tell them who made the catch everytime he touches the ball, yet he's possibly engaged to one of Hef's girls.

BWT- I once carded Hank Basket and he was kinda shook over the whole thing. I didn't even realize it was him until I looked at the name on the New Mexico ID. Hank was a humble dude who bullshitted with my friend Drewball about college football and was pretty impressed with the shitty sports bar I work at. Now he's catching balls over the middle and fucking Hugh Heff's sloppy seconds. You know you made it to the big time when Perez Hilton blogs about you. Things are looking up for the Eagles this season.

Final notes

ML - Staggering offense in the Dallas game, no D. Staggering D in the Pitts game, no O. Westbrook goes down, but is probably fine, which is good because he is our entire offense.

There's an odd quality about this team. It only has three, name, stars on it. Mcnabb, Westbrook, and Asante Samuel. Lito doesn't count, and Sheldon is only well known in the Reggie Bush household. Dawk is old and way past his prime. The linebackers are all unknowns, to the point that I barely know each from the other. The d-line is young and untested, and our biggest star at wide reciever is a rookie. Yet we're still one of the top 2-4 teams in the league. There's a chemistry and swagger this year, that was unearned until they came out in Dallas and proved they belonged. And now it's here to stay. Pittsburgh is a very good team, and we made them look like the Raiders.

BWT - Yeah there's this feeling about this team that hasn't been around since Garcia saved that one season and we all thought it was going to be a storybook ending. There's a theme of redemption with this bunch. People in town are already penciling in a W for next week but I still have nightmares from last years game vs the Bears. I think it's going to be a tight game but at least Brian Griese is on the Bucs now.

Of Superbowls and Sausages: A Love Story

Since 1999, when the Doug Pederson experiment ended, the fate of the Eagles franchise has since rested with Donovan Mcnabb. He usually isn‘t the best player. Dawkins was the heart and soul of the team for years and Westbrook is more talented than Mcnabb, it’s also no surprise that Donovan’s best season came when he was throwing the ball to a grandma’s boy named Terrell. But for the past 9 years, we’ve won and lost games based on the strength of our quarterback’s performance. For three quarters tonight, I was elated, but my joy was bigger than the game. I was so happy, because it forced me to remember the time Donovan Mcnabb asked me to suck his dick.

After begging my brother for years to put in a good word for me, I was hired as a ball boy for the Philadelphia Eagles a few months after the Super bowl loss. Terrell’s media shit storm was well under way, but his relationship with Donovan wasn’t permanently strained yet. The team was an LJ Smith drop away from their first championship in 24 years, and the entirety of the team was returning. In stark opposition to Philadelphia’s normal sports situations, things looked good.

Another scorching morning practice came and went at Lehigh University where the Eagles hold their training camp every year. I was in the locker room, surrounded by comically large men, most of whom were naked, and it was my job to go around throwing all their sweaty underwear and practice clothes into the hampers. The hampers were at the end of every row, and you couldn’t get to the showers without passing by at least one, if not multiple hampers. However, when you can make a career out of your physical prowess, you’re afforded the privilege of not having to worry about small things like taking care of your own gross shit. Your meals are cooked for you, your laundry is done for you, your schedules are printed up everyday so that you can’t possibly fuck up, even though many still manage too. You are treated like a humongous, physically gifted, god of a four years old. This seems counter-intuitive at first; athletes are often seen as men amongst boys. But no matter how good they are at their game, they are still only playing a game. There are billions of dollars riding on a game that most people grow out of by the time they graduate from high school, and it’s left in the hands of people who can’t be trusted to dump their jock straps in the hamper before showering after practice. This is the job I begged and begged for.

I was in the Quarterbacks row, just about finished up for the morning, ready to take my break until the laundry was finished and we were to fold and redistribute it back into the lockers. Donovan’s locker was the last in the row, and being new, I was still pretty star struck. I found myself doing dorky little things like smiling for no reason at scrubs who had no shot at making the team, taking extra time to fold the jerseys, and sneaking off to places I probably shouldn’t have been to look at shit I probably shouldn’t have been looking at. That day I found myself examining Mcnabb’s sandals. They were regular sandals, but they had “#5” written on each side. Every article of clothing was labeled with the players number with a sharpie. After spending an exorbitant amount of time looking at a pair of fucking sandals, I went back about my business of picking up the laundry. Just as I was bent all the way over to grab everything, I felt someone approaching behind me.

“Hey!”, a voice came from behind me, equal parts bass and anger. I weighed my options, and did the mature thing. I froze.

“Hey, hey ball boy.”, I dropped the clothes, and turned my head around. I found myself, at the time a small, scrawny, alarmingly white teenager making $6.50 an hour standing in opposition with a massive, black superstar making over $10 million a year. He also happened to be completely naked. And I was at crotch level.

I had no idea what to do. I’d been forced into conversations with naked men before, but never an angry, naked man, and certainly never an angry naked man who could have me fired on the spot if he so chose, and most definitely never an angry naked powerful man who‘s dick was right in my face. I made two quick decisions. First and foremost, I stood up. Soon after that, I poured all my energy into making the deepest eye contact I had ever made in my life previous to that. My thinking was that at the very least, I couldn’t be accused of checking out his dick. I now realize that this was probably gayer than off-handedly glancing at his junk. By trying not to act gay, I ended up giving some hardcore eye-anal to a naked, wet, man.

“Um, yes?”, I said, ever so coyly.

He received and returned my accidental eye-anal, giving me some figurative eye-ass to mouth. His face remained stern, and he slowly reached down and grabbed his penis.

“Hey ball boy, you want some sausage?”.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever been propositioned by an NFL superstar without foreplay, whether linguistically or literally. I now belong to a group populated by groupies, gold diggers, chicken heads, and whatever upstanding gentlemen Jeff Garcia has come across in his day.
I muttered something unintelligible, grabbed the laundry as quickly as I could, and scurried back outside. I don’t fluster easily, but I was speechless. I had absolutely no comeback. I just grabbed my shit and left.

I guarantee that Donovan doesn’t remember this at all. He was just fucking around with someone that he had the power to fuck around with. He was having fun. And that’s always been the telltale sign of his on field play. Until Terrell got kicked off the team and Donovan got hurt, Mcnabb spent the first six and a half years of his career with a huge smile on his face. Whether he had just thrown a sixty yard touchdown, or a pick for six, he would come off the field laughing. It was great when he played well, and fucking obnoxious when he was under throwing wide open receivers on third down. And then Terrell and Donovan had their spat, and the spinners on his good times escalade stopped spinning, and eventually the wheels fell off. From 2005 through 2007, the Eagles played .500 ball, and the brutally honest smile of an athlete playing a game turned into the defense mechanism of a forced, half hearted facial tick from a disheartened veteran at his job. It’s the smile that Toby makes on the Office every time Michael berates him. He smiled because if he didn’t, he might have cried.

But something felt different this year. We didn’t improve our personnel all that much, but expectations were high, even outside of Philadelphia. The Rams game came and went, and we all got drunk and yelled and cursed a lot as Philadelphians are wont to do, but there was still a sense of uncertainty. The win was nice, but the Rams kind of suck, and we knew that. The Cowboys would be our real test. Monday Night Football in front of the entire world that watches football on Monday nights, against our biggest rivals, the Dallas Cowboys, the most talented team in the league, who also happen to possess Donovan’s scorned lover. They say that you can’t win the Super bowl early in the season, but you can lose it. Fuck that. This game transcended that. This game was big, the biggest the eagles have played since TO pretended to be Willis Reed in the Super bowl. And both teams came out of the gate fired up, throwing bombs. For three quarters, you could see the kid in Donovan again. He was laughing and running and throwing underhand tosses on botched plays. John Madden was in his bus at halftime ready to drive to Dallas to act as my dick-sucking proxy, calling Donovan Brett the whole time. McNabb was playing out of his mind, even without his top two weapons at wide receiver, though Reggie Brown is a weapon the way that toenail clippers count as a weapon at the airport. It counts, but no one is really sure why.

And then Philadelphia went back to doing what we do time and time again. Crunch time set in and we laid down and died. The majority of this came from Donovan. He missed an open Westbrook for a first down, he fumbled the handoff, giving Dallas the lead, and he chose not to take the open running game on second and long which would have given them third and short at the worst, and an opportunity to keep the game going. The only thing missing was Donovan hunched over, puking on the field again. The smile faded, and the Toby face was back. This season, and ultimately McNabb and Reid’s legacies will come down to whether Donovan is playing the game, or doing his job. It’s still early, we haven’t lost the Super bowl yet, and the pieces are in place for a successful run. But the pieces are in place for disappointment as well. Once again, it all falls squarely on number five’s shoulders, and we as Philadelphia fans have to accept this.

Bill Simmons used to joke that being a Red Sox fan was like being the 120 pound man in a maximum security prison. Being a Philadelphia fan is nothing like this. The 120 pound man has no hope. He is perpetually fucked. Our teams are usually competitive, we are always on the cusp, every year is our year. But year in and year out, we fall short. Being a Philadelphia fan is like getting a blowjob at a party from a girl who is way out of your league, only to have her pass out from the alcohol before finishing you off, leaving you to wonder the ethics involved in finishing the job yourself, all the while amazed at what your life has devolved to. Odds are, this will be just another year in which we use as preparation for the next, but even a blind squirrel busts a nut every once in a while.

Eagles 38 Rams 3

"Greg Lewis sucks cock!"
- legit quote from Iggles fan moments before Lewis went off for a 52 yard play

I witnessed a three hour rape live on Sunday and then went to a pro football game. LOL JK the Eagles fans were well behaved tailgater's except for the dudes parked directly next to us who kept playing that U2's greatest hits album. These square motherfuckers had tucked in polos and were sippin on Becks the whole time. It's a shame that these guys get to go to football games and are a major part of the reason the Linc isn't half as rabid as the Vet was. I want Real Sports to do a follow up on last years piece where they go around NFL tailgates and find lame motherfuckers.

In my last post I wrote that DeSean Jackson was going to have to be on some Devin Hester shit in order to live up to expectations and while he wasn't at that level he did have this aura around him the entire game. Our receivers and punt returners have been so bad the last couple of years that we would have flipped out if we signed Ashley Lelie so suck it Harpo. Jackson didn't even score on Sunday but he was the star. On the second play of the game McNabb threw up a pass to Jackson, the type of pass he hasn't had confidence in his wideouts grabbing since T.O. left town with Jew Rosenhaus, and Jackson got it done.

I know this is just the shitty St. Louis Rams. I know they have no offensive line, no corners with any skill (Hank Basket burned those bums on Sunday), and a head coach who had Mike Tice as a mentor. But fuck all that we looked great on Sunday. Sheldon Brown killed that bitch Steven Jackson. Heck even Darren Howard had a good game. I know we play Dallas on Monday and everyones all afraid of them but I have a good feeling about the game. But uh maybe I'm a little drunk still.

E- A -G- L- E -S EAGLES!! YO EAGLES MAN SUPER BOWL OR BUST!

actual iggles fan

My interest in football is never phased but is always on the ups when the issues invading the local sports talk radio are juicy and filled with Philadelphia Iggles fan retardedness (it will take a good 3 years for the fan base to realize Asante Samuel does not have an S at the end of his name). Last years top storyline involved the Latter Day Saints favorite head coach and poor mans Mike Holmgren having crackhead kids. The 'If he can't coach his kids how can he coach a team!' talking point was the peak of sports radio 610 WIP but I pray for the day where a 610 caller goes on a rant about Joe Banner's secret Jew plan to move the Eagles to Jerusalem. In classic Eagles fashion the team has made minor improvements while continuing to ignore the major hole at the wide receiver position. Our opening day starters will be Hank Basket and rookie standout DeSean Jackson. Expectations for Jackson are already so high he will need to be Devin Hester v2.0 or he will be a disappointment in the fans eyes.

In many ways this is the last run these guys have in them. Not many coaches can keep jobs for a decade without winning a title. Brian Dawkins, Tra Thomas, and John Runyan are still solid veterans but nearing the end. As always McNabb is the key. While Reid has continued to make it clear McNabb is the Eagles QB it's obvious hes building for a future without him as Kevin Kolb will be backing him up this year. If McNabb has a bad game the fans will call for Kolb. Despite having next to no weapons on offense Mcnabb has looked very good this preseason. Brian Westbrook is 29 with bum knees and just got paid. This could very well be his last productive year too.

Despite not even making the playoffs last year the national media has been high on the Eagles. The genius Dr. Z has picked them to win the NFC and the Sporty Guy William Simmons has picked them to go to the NFC title game. It would be fitting for end of the Reid/McNabb/Dawkins era to be another NFC championship game loss but fuck that. If the shitty Giants can shock the world why can't a decent Eagles team? The schedule is easy enough for this team to coast if they can stay healthy. I see good things for them this year but I'm not really impartial. I'll be there on Sunday with the rest of the Philly mooks spelling one of the few words we can with confidence while inhaling nitrous balloons.