In the course of human history, has any spoken phrase led to more incredible things than this one? Every so often we'll be faced with an opportunity where the unorthodox choice holds promise but seems risky, and after our brain frantically analyzes all the possible scenarios till we can't handle any more number crunching, our sense of reason finally submits and we say those oh-so-special words. "Fuck it." Sure it costs money. Sure it might not end the way you hoped. Failure and disappointment can't be ruled out. Yet at the same time, these "fuck it" moments can lead to incredible successes that far exceed any benefits the "normal" or "likely" decision ever could'vehave yielded.
You can bet your ass that "fuck it" was prominent in the decision to go to the Eagles/Giants Wildcard playoff game.
Let's just say that this was a good way to start the new year. I had only been to one Eagles game in my life, and that was the last regular season game at the Vet against the damned Foreskins. For me and Jay, the decision to go to the playoff game came down to the fact that we could suck it up, overpay for standing-room only tickets, and possibly witness a huge victory over a hated division rival in the playoffs. It feels good to be on the right side of these kinds of decisions. The tailgating scene was a circus: dogs in Eagles gear, men on unicycles, cheerleaders, the smell of BBQ, the sound of Giants-bashing, and hardcore Birds fans as far as the eye could see.
And all this was before the game even started. I'm sure everyone saw what happened on the field, so I don't need to go and explain every detail, but here are a few things I will say about the trip:
1. The atmosphere was incredible. I'm sure it was talked about on TV, but let me say that the crowd never got off of Eli and the G-Men offense when they were on the field, a fact supported by the 6 false-start penalties they committed. Even after the unfortunate conversions of 2nd and 30 and then 3rd and 11 in the 4th quarter that led to a game-tying NY touchdown, the place was still rowdy as hell. Everyone in the building knew we had a job to do, that we WOULD be the 12th man on the field, and for the love of God, when Brian Dawkins starts waving his hands and asks for our collective willpower, I'll be damned if anyone is going to say no.
2. Speaking of Dawkins, is there a more passionate and lovable player in football than this guy? Two Dawkins' stories from the game to help prove my point...
- A good hour before kickoff, Jay and I are watching different players warm up and prepare for the game. Basically, a small group would trickle out of the tunnel, go out and stretch together, and then start going through warm-up stations being run by coaches. Trotter comes out with the LBs and they start doing tip drills, the D-line rumbles out and practice getting off the line on snap counts. . . you get the idea. Then the secondary unit comes out, with Dawk bringing up the rear. Now mind you, the place is barely 15% full at this point. While the players head out to get started he turns around, starts walking over to the sideline where the fans are (who are now going nuts at this point cuz there is fucking Brian Dawkins!) and, just like a professional wrestler on RAW, starts raising his fists and getting the crowd pumped. It reminded me of a lion surveying his kingdom and letting out a primal roar over the land. I mean, it's an hour before game time and this guy is already trying to get himself and the fans into it. He does this for half the stadium too, strutting around to all the sections and spreading the love to everyone, getting the fans psyched. And we ate it up.
- Now they are introducing the players on defense before kickoff and the place is cooking. Trotter comes out and the place goes nuts, it's like a damn rock concert. Lito comes out, Darren Howard comes out, everyone comes out and every time it's the same thing: the fans are going ape-shit. We're all yelling at the top of our lungs for these guys . . . OUR guys. Yet at the same time, you can sense the anticipation in the air, because in the back of all our minds we know that the best is yet to come. Suddenly the place gets silent (I think you could hear a Giants fan sobbing in the bathroom, that's how quiet it was). Now maybe you saw Dawkins come crawling out of the tunnel onto the field on all fours like an animal. I didn't. My angle was from behind the tunnel so I didn't see him till after he evolved upright and starting hopping around like a fucking madman. But I knew he was there. Everyone knew he was coming out, and the second you saw him, I swear to this, you could suddenly yell and scream and cheer louder than you ever thought possible. And he loves it. And we love it. And the players are there at midfield waiting for their general, the soul of this damn team, to reach them and lead their asses. If you subscribe to the idea that sports can be transcendent, like I do, this was one of those moments.
3. If you want a fan experience, are under the age of 30 and don't mind standing on your feet for a few hours, then here is a piece of advice. Don't bother with getting seats, just get the SRO tix. We perched ourselves on the top of the southern catwalk and the only type of fan that surrounded us was the "drunk college student who can't afford good tickets but wants to see his Eagles win damnit" crowd. Everyone is friendly. Everyone there is a hardcore Eagles fan. Best of all, if you're in need of a cardio workout and haven't been to a rock concert in awhile but miss the atmosphere, you'll be more than satisfied when the home team comes up big or scores and the catwalk turns into a full-fledged moshpit, with everyone jumping around, hugging and tossing out high-fives by the truckload. Trust me, this is the way to see any playoff football game.
4. There is nothing more satisfying in the world than to take a chance on a lose-and-go-home football game, buy the tickets, and then see your team come through with a victory. Let's face it, you're rolling the dice. All week, I was scared of a big letdown because the Eagles game was the only wildcard matchup where every expert was picking the home team and it seemed ripe for a mind-blowing Giants upset. But the good guys won, and we were there, and it's a game I'll remember for the rest of my life.
5. Brian Westbrook is good. I mean really good. This guy can bust one out at any time and it's getting to the point where the other team knows it. If the line stays healthy, watch out for next year. Mind blowing numbers are on their way.
The best part about the win is that six weeks ago, when McNabb went down and the Eagles were in the middle of a slump (if only we had known it was the tail-end of the slump), the city and the fans officially gave up on this season. It's not that we stopped rooting for these guys or turned off the tv, but we just didn't think we could do it without McNabb. For so long, Reid had taken advantage of McNabb's greatness so much so that the offense's success was purely dependent on how the QB was playing. Really, it was almost unfair to McNabb to have to carry the offense the way he did and get crucified when the offense failed to produce, but in some ways I can't blame Reid for letting too much of a good thing get to him.
Really, the entire Philadelphia sports scene looked pretty bleak at the time. The Phillies had missed the playoffs, the Flyers sucked, the Sixers were the worst team in the NBA, and to top it off, the one team we could always count on in this city for the last six years looked to be on the brink of another disappointing season. No one was happy, and the pain of our championship drought felt even worse.
Then like an omen of the changing times, the Iverson trade happened. Here is what I want to say on this matter: I have long contended, even during the run against the Laker in 2001, that you cannot build a team around Allen Iverson. That year with Larry Brown at the helm was the closest we came to building a team that could fully compliment AI because that team could play defense, rebound, and had perimeter shooters that Allen could dish to if a drive to the lane failed. Those are the three things you need to offset his shortcomings, and it's not as easy as you may think to make a good team like that. I had been hoping for a trade for a few years now because every year that passed, their record got worse and worse and it became more clear that other big name players didn't want to come here and try to fit into Allen's world.
Don't get me wrong though, I don't dislike Iverson. Far from it. He is the Brian Dawkins of the basketball court. He leads his team, is a gamer and a tough competitor, and his fire is contagious. Honestly, even though they have parted ways, I want both the Sixers and Iverson to have success. The Sixers will have three first round picks in next years draft, and if they continue to do poorly this year, they have a superb chance of landing Greg Oden, a big man who reminds me of a
Russell-type player. I want to be able to cheer for these guys again and for them to find success, and I want them to do it with a new identity. Remember how the Phillies always seemed like that loser team, then they traded away big contracts, brought in youth, and changed the identity of the team? They immediately started winning and fell just short of the playoffs despite a tremendous second-half push. Success was a big reason that the city got behind, but mostly it was because it was a different team to root for. When you have a culture of losing, sometimes a change in mentality and personality is all you need. I hope the same thing happens for the Sixers. Young guys are already in place, big contracts are expiring (including the buyout of the unproductive Webber, who fits into that 'culture of losing' category), and more youth is on the way. I can't wait.
At the same time, I hope Iverson succeeds as well.
Let's face it, the guy really is one of the 20 or 30 greatest players in the sports history. A guy his size shouldn't be able to dominate a game the way he does, "wow" us the way he does, and survive this long the way he has. If you like basketball, don't you want to see this guy succeed? I know he's too street for people, and even I got annoyed with the whole "practice" press-conference. But I need to see this guy win. We all do. The league needs a guy with this kind of talent and that much heart to win a championship, even if it is on another team where is the the 1b option behind a youthful rising star in the league. He's going to score. He's going to make his teammates better. He's going to fit in. All I'm saying is that football wouldn't have been the same if a guy like Favre, who commanded respect from players throughout the league, hadn't won a Super Bowl. Iverson needs a championship too.
So it turns out that it all isn't as bad as we though it was going to be. The Phillies have a great shot of making the playoffs next year (yes they do, because I always doubt their abilities and even I have that feeling now), and we know what can happen for the Sixers. Today, the Eagles try to extend our sports success with a win against the Saints. For me, a win is icing on the cake and beyond what I thought was realistically possible after a 6-10 season last year. Back in August, the upcoming football season was a big topic of discussion, and when asked for my Eagles predictions, I came up with a list of goals where, if met, I would deem the season a complete success.
- At the very least, beat Dallas at home because fuck them and fuck T.O. (of course, they not only beat them once, but twice, so this was a double success)
- Go 4-2 in the division (they went 5-1)
- Finish with a 10-6 record (check)
- Make the playoffs (check again)
- *BONUS* win at least one playoff game
Officially, I can't complain anymore, these guys have done everything that I asked for. Plus, this game is the NFC championship as far as I'm concerned, because in my mind the Saints are the best team in the NFC and whoever wins this game is marching all the way to the Super Bowl.
Here's the problem with today's game though: how can we root against the Saints? Seriously, think about it. Half of our strength as Eagles fans is that we find a way to hate the team we are playing against. I don't care if it's the Cleveland Browns, we'll hate your ass for a week, for no real reason, because it's what we do. It gets us pumped up, gives us that killer instinct as fans, and most importantly gives us an edge over the "wimp" fans of other teams. I can't do it today though, I just can't. Peyton is a good coach, Brees is a likeable QB, and for Gods sake, this football team is the only thing that city has going for it. I can't tell you how many articles or interviews I've seen with people in New Orleans who say that the thought of the Saints getting deep in the playoffs is the only thing giving them hope.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME? This just isn't fair. It's like trying to boo a team of AIDS patients. You can't do it, unless you have no soul. I mean, it's like they cut our collective arm off as fans, and even though they are professionals, how could the Eagles players themselves not let some of these thoughts creep into the back of their minds.
At least we're already considered a town full of drunken assholes and dicks, so I guess if we beat Americas team it will just add to our legacy. Either way, I'm getting the excuses ready, just in case.
"We had a short weeks rest.""It was an away playoff game.""Drew Brees is good."
"We felt bad for them....."
Then I see John and Jason outside, struggling to get back in the house. Apparently, the cat had made the decision that he wanted in, no matter what. Phil suggested kicking the damn thing, but that would be rude in my book, especially considering the impeccable manners of the kick-ee. No matter what we did, it kept rubbing up against legs, rolling over for belly rubs, playfully reaching up at hands, and all the while not letting us get a foot in the door without darting right after us. I can't even properly communicate to you how charming this fucking cat was. And all I kept thinking was "THIS SUCKS!" Frankly, if it wasn't for the fact that one of our roommates is deathly allergic to cats, we probably would've caved and let the damn thing in, named it Leeroy Jenkins, and called it a night.
Now here's the thing: the guy is a dork; he doesn't like sports or follows football; his hair looks straight out of Leave It To Beaver; he's awkward and out of shape. Basically, he's no spring chicken. And from what I can tell, his buddies are considered by others as pretty dorky. In fact, his situation perfectly fits the little sister theory, which states that women already in relationships will quickly accept a guy friend who is utterly non-sexually-threatening and can be looked upon as a little "sister". All in all, I shouldn't want to go to lunch with these people. Frankly, I'm almost certain that Jeff is afraid I'll steal his thunder with his lady friends. But it still annoys me, to this day, because if the roles were reversed, I'd invite the guy out, listen to his jokes and his stories, see what my friends thought and move on from there.
