Making a Scene: Philadelphia Undercover with Andy Reid

The embattled former Philadelphia Eagles coach makes his return to the City of Brotherly Love.

The Philly Accent

 The only Oscar-nominated movie Matt Domino saw was Silver Linings Playbook, and he had one big issue with it.

The Wild Card

Each year, when football season comes to the playoffs, I find myself muttering the words of Michael Corleone in the Godfather, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”  I say this because nothing makes my blood boil more than watching the Philadelphia Eagles play.  I think I raise my cholesterol, blood pressure and chance of seizure and stroke each time I watch an Eagles game.  As the years have gone by, I’ve tried to calm myself, grow slightly more mature and refrain from throwing items around my apartments/rooms as well as cursing and screaming at the top of my lungs so that I don’t sound like a total psychopath/wifebeater/serial killer.  This year, I thought I did exceptionally well in moving towards being a healthy fan of the Philadelphia Eagles.

In recent seasons, I have also tried to watch less football because quite frankly, football annoys me for a variety of reasons.  Watching football on TV drives me crazy.  Most of the time the games are filled with penalties that cause the flow of the game to become clunky and sporadic.  In addition, football as perhaps the worst and longest TV timeouts out of any of the major sports, which also takes me out of the game.  This often leads to many of those forlorn, tedious and terrible 4:15 late games on Sunday afternoons where you just want to say, as distinctly as possible, “This game is AWFUL!”

That just pertains to the game play.  What is really terrible about football is the media coverage.  Since football is such a short season and the egos and hyper-masculinity of the players are so great, the media coverage must be commensurate.  Football media coverage beats the following dead horses: “the quarterback position,” “being a man,” “doing your job,” “the team,” “one game at a time,” “being a man,” “man-ing up,” and “football is the greatest of all sports.”  The act of watching football obviously differentiates itself from viewing all other sports in that there are fewer games.  All of the games are played on two days out of the week (3-4 as the season wears on, but it is only one game per day on those outlying Thursdays and Saturdays) and you know they are played at either 1:00, 4:15, or 8:30.  There is a ritual to football that basketball, baseball and hockey don’t share.  That is what makes the Buffalo wings, the sandwiches, the beer, and the fat bellies have that much more meaning – it is the repetition of the ritual of the football mass, week after week.  However, the fact that this “glory of the game” beats us over the head during the week via all the football pundits is something that annoys me to no end. All other sports fall by the wayside during football season.  Now, you may call me a disgruntled basketball fanatic, but I think there is validity to my gripes with football season.  I don’t have a solution to the problem; I think the answer is to just watch less football and football coverage as I have been doing.  The fact that the essence of a football season is that it is made up of only sixteen games perpetuates the overblown media coverage; the melodramatic reactions to every single play and player; the intense focus on the thrown away words of players in the locker room.  There is no chalkboard material and a helmet or a hit doesn’t define manhood.  A dunk or a beautiful outlet pass doesn’t define it either, but basketball players and basketball media never claim that those things make a man in the first place.

All of this being said, last night, I was among the Philadelphia faithful packed into Lincoln Financial Field to watch the Green Bay Packers play the Philadelphia Eagles in the Wild Card Round of the 2011 NFL Playoffs.  My dad and I sat at field level as the game began and the temperature dropped to an even 30 degrees.  I watched the fireworks go off and listened the drunken Philly fans banter around us.  I saw Swoop, the Philadelphia Eagles mascot, shoot fireworks off the top of his head.  And as those damn, beautiful, dark green Eagles jerseys ran around the field right in front of me, I turned to my dad and said, “Just when I thought I was out, they sucked me back IN!”

A few notes from the game:

- I am not a big jersey person.  When I watch sports games I don’t wear the jersey of the team I am rooting for. It’s usually in my soul and that’s all that matters.  I’m not actually on the team and besides, I can curse like hell to show my support anyway. I thought about wearing my McNabb jersey to the game, but I had a strange feeling that a McNabb jersey was off limits with the Philly fans.  I was right.  While my dad and I walked around the parking lot amongst the tailgating Philadelphians, I saw only ONE Donovan McNabb jersey.  There were Randall Cunningham jerseys, Brian Westbrook jerseys, Ricky Waters jerseys – I even saw a Michael Zordich jersey. Yet, the winningest and most decorated quarterback in Philadelphia Eagles franchise history was not represented at all.  Even though I live in New York, I am still connected to the Eagles faithful, and that fan base was all thinking one thing: we do NOT want the specter of McNabb floating over this game.  That is to say, we do not want to blow this game and any McNabb jerseys that are present will lead to that.  How strange is it that one of the best (if not the best) players in franchise history is a complete persona non grata?  I am continually fascinated by the McNabb/Philadelphia relationship and I think as the years go on, it will only become more fascinating.  Someone has to write a book about this.

- The Linc is a fantastic stadium.  It is immaculately kept and really easy to get around in.  The concession stand food is great and, although my dad and I had great seats (we wandered around before the game), there is a terrific view throughout the stadium.  It is a vast improvement over the Vet. Also, for those of you that care, it is going to be the first self-sustaining sports stadium. Starting next season, they are using wind and solar power to run the entire facility.  Very progressive down in Philly.

- The Philadelphia fans are both fantastic and horrible.  Everyone was so riled up for the game that there was a pervading drunkenness in the first quarter.  A Philly fan in our section actually yelled at another Philly fan for holding up sign, threw peanuts at him, and then threatened to “throw his ass out of here.”  Everyone else in the section saw that the peanut thrower was an asshole and started teasing him to get him into a better mood and the whole incident actually became a bonding/rallying point for our section.  The other thing about Philadelphia (and especially Eagles) fans is that the sense of dread that overtakes the stadium when something goes bad is so immense and palpable that it is hard to overcome.  The crowd was so willing to go dead when the Eagles looked flat in the first half (and most of the game) that it was completely discouraging.  Eagles fans love the team so much and rely on it for so much happiness, that they want them to be perfect – to succeed in any way because that success will some how validate their own lives.  When something goes wrong for the Eagles, it is like a personal affront or attack on these people and they take it so personally that they clam up.  They are so used to having their hearts broken that they almost expect the worst to happen at all times and so the dread builds and builds and infiltrates all parts of the stadium. Being a Philadelphia fan, I have had my fair share of heartbreak.  However, I was not willing to let dread overtake me.  I think I had a large part in keeping the spirits of our area high (although, I could be full of shit), which in turn kept the other sections into the game as well.  It was a tough battle and I think overall I lost it, but at those times of euphoria last night the atmosphere was off the charts.  And that’s why Eagles fans are great.  They get into the game, they know about the game.  There is nothing like an Eagles fan who recognizes you are a smart fan.  They will chat you up and stand by your side like you were their oldest friend.  Although, now that I think about it, almost any Philly fan will chat you up at a game because they are usually pretty soused.  Ah, well they’re all loveable until they starting hating themselves and the team.

- The harassment of Green Bay fans was at about an orange level.  Nothing too, too serious, but definitely present. It wouldn’t have been an Eagles game without some fairly high level of harassment.

- You have to see Michael Vick play in person.  When you watch him on TV you get a sense of his speed and elusiveness, but its another thing to see him evade those tackles in person.  He twists his body and then accelerates in a split second.  It’s remarkable.

- The Philadelphia fans hate Andy Reid.  They constantly call him “Fat Andy.”  After last night, I don’t blame them.  I’ve stood behind Andy through thick and thin, but the 4^th and 1 call last night and some of the other management issues were just to egregious to let go.

- You also have to see Desean Jackson and Jeremy Maclin in person.  They are both insanely fast, especially Jackson.  It is unreal.

- And of course, it wouldn’t have been an Eagles game without a potential comeback that was thwarted by a late interception in the endzone.  The fans can leave those McNabb jersey’s at home, but something has to change in order to rid that stadium and these fan’s of the McNabb specter, which is the reminder of always coming up short.

Just another heartbreaking visit to Philadelphia and the world of the Eagles.

Jingle Ball

Being a sports fan is a funny thing.  Your life is dictated by the schedules of games on certain nights of the week.  You get frustrated if a great game is going to be on a Friday or Saturday night when you have some kind of social obligation to partake in. This is mostly because you feel like you’ll be missing out on a legendary game and, in order to prevent that from completely happening, you’ll be checking your phone every five minutes.  Also, if the game doesn’t go your way you know that you ultimately end up turning drunk and surly.  Then there are those Sundays when you swear you are going to do productive reading and writing or that you are going to enjoy a leisurely walk around the city or organize the paperwork accumulating in your life.  The only problem is that there are two to three must see football games on and you can’t pull yourself away from the TV no matter how much you want to.  “I’ll be able to get everything done once football season is over,” you say.  But once that happens the playoff races for basketball and hockey are heating up and baseball season is just beginning.

When you are a sports fan, you keep track of time by the events that happen during certain sports seasons and you distinguish different eras of your life by the prominent players or teams from those particular years.  In general, you rely on the success of strangers as well as their ability to be great in order to bring a certain modicum of happiness and fulfillment to your life.  In short, it is a bizarre phenomenon.

Recently, I have been thinking about my own sports fandom.  The reason I have been thinking about it is because I have been enjoying this NBA season so much.  I’ve enjoyed it so much, but it is odd because I don’t have any true vested interest in any one NBA team over another – I simply love the league as a whole.  And yesterday, while I was watching the Eagles play the Giants in the NFL, I thought about how that might reveal some sort of weakness in my sports fan character. You see, guys that cover the NBA for a living have to be impartial.  They have to enjoy the league as a whole, report on a variety of teams and stories and deliver the news as quickly and without bias as humanly possible.  However, many times these analysts of the game can ruin the passion and absurdity of loving a particular team or player by overanalyzing elements of the game or looking at stories too objectively. No matter how much they love a team or player, their job requires them to be unbiased.  Perhaps this is just the division of one’s job versus one’s personal opinions and enthusiasm, but to me and the joy that sports can bring it is an important distinction. 

On Sunday as I was watching a classic Eagles vs. Giants game and screaming at every Eagles miscalculation, I cursed myself because this season I had vowed not to raise my voice at all.  When I could no longer control myself, I decided to turn the game off, retreat to my room and try to read to calm down. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” I muttered to myself.  While reading, I kept the online game tracker up on my computer, which is set up on my desk at the foot of my bed.  I noticed that the Eagles were creeping back into the game.  So I put down my book (Nicole Krauss’ excellent new novel Great House), and returned to the TV.  I watched the game a little further before another Eagles miscue.  After a small scream, I returned to my room, deciding that the Eagles would do better off without me watching.  My superstition seemed to be accurate, as the Eagles got closer. So, once more, I returned to the TV only to be disappointed by an Eagles drive that stalled out.  It seemed like the game was over, so I went back to my room to read. “If they win, they win.” I said to myself.  Well, as I was reading, I noticed that the Eagles had come back from twenty-one points down and tied the game at 31 in the fourth quarter. “Fuck it,” I said. “Even if me not watching has been helping them win, I have to see how this ends.”  So, I went back to the couch and turned on the TV.  What unfolded was one of the most amazing comebacks and ends to the game in perhaps NFL history, as Desean Jackson returned a punt 65-yards (after fumbling the catch) for a touchdown as time expired.  I got up and screamed, “FUCK YEAH! FUCK YOU, FUCKING GIANTS! FUCK YOU!”  Then, I settled down, turned off the TV, checked on the chicken I was cooking and returned to reading.

Obviously, I love the NBA way more than I love the NFL.  However, my devotion to the Philadelphia Eagles as a franchise is what differentiates the love I have for the NFL and the love I have for the NBA.  My love for the Eagles is blind passion.  I don’t care who they are playing because no matter who it is, I will automatically hate that team.  Their quarterback could be fantastic, but to me he sucks no matter what.  Their players could be stand-up guys, guys that play the game it was meant to be played, who don’t show boat and who do community service, but to me they are smug assholes who deserve their comeuppance because they suck. In basketball, I have no team that makes me feel that way.  When I was younger, I felt that way about the Chicago Bulls because Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen represented something good, something about excellence and achievement and never wanting to lose.  However, I had no personal ties to Chicago or the Bulls franchise and as the Jordan era came to an end, I found myself attempting to latch on to some kind of team connection.  I loved Allen Iverson, but the Sixers had always been so terrible that it was still hard to blindly root for them as he revived the franchise into relevancy.  So, I started paying attention to all the players as I had more or less done when I was a little kid and the Bulls were ruling the NBA.  I learned how to appreciate Jason Kidd and what he did with his Nets teams in the early 2000’s; I loved Iverson’s toughness and electricity; Chris Weber’s passing ability. I saw the weakness in Vince Carter’s defense despite his incendiary offense; I marveled at how complete of a player Rasheed Wallace was even though most of the time he was flustered by the referees; I even tried to see the beauty in Shaq’s game even though I hated him so much.  However, my full devotion to the NBA didn’t arrive until Dwyane Wade entered the league.  He was the first player that reminded me of what Michael Jordan stood for. I didn’t look to him as the “next Jordan,” but something about him made me think of goodness, effort and striving for excellence.  There was a toughness and grace about Dwyane Wade that I appreciated and it signaled a new era in the NBA. 

Flash-forward about six or seven years and a new era of the NBA has certainly dawned.  There is now more talent in the NBA than possibly at any time ever.  The only region where there may have been as much talent was in the 1986-1988 range.  However, I am beginning to think that even then there may not have been as many great players as there are now.  You have the prolonged careers of 13+ year veterans like Tim Duncan, Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, Kobe Bryant, Shaq, Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Kidd and Steve Nash.  You also have the peak years of veterans such as LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Amare Stoudemire, Deron Williams, Dwight Howard, Chris Paul, Pau Gasol, Carlos Boozer, Chris Bosh and Carmelo Anthony.  There is even a subset of players from that generation who are good but not as great as those guys (Rudy Gay, Raymond Felton, Big Baby Davis, Danny Granger, Tayshaun Prince, Gilbert Arenas, Jason Richardson).  Then, you have the young generation with players like Kevin Durant, Derrick Rose, John Wall, Blake Griffin, Russell Westbrook, Rajon Rondo, Kevin Love, Michael Beasley, Tyreke Evans, Brandon Jennings, Brook Lopez, Al Horford and Joakim Noah.  The league is literally stacked with talent no matter which way you look.  And that has been the story of this season so far.  The great teams are actually becoming deeper and more talented than they were last year, such as the Celtics and the Lakers.  There is an uber-team that everyone talks about in the Miami Heat. Orlando just made some huge trades over the weekend to get even deeper and perhaps better and the Knicks are looking to land Carmelo Anthony in order to become another powerhouse in the East.  And I didn’t even mention the Bulls or the Thunder, which are two of the more exciting young teams in the league.  So for me, when I feel as though I have been lackluster as a true blindly passionate sports fan when it comes to the NBA, I take a look around and remember how I take each team into consideration.  How I appreciate the players league wide; how I pay close attention to what each team is trying to do, which teams are trying to make a run, which teams play hard, which players are head cases and who doesn’t deserve the honor of being in the NBA. I take all of that into account and realize I am one damn great fan of the NBA and perhaps that is the mature way to appreciate a sport, maybe all that screaming is something I have to grow out of – perhaps its just something I should keep relegated to one team. Well, maybe two if you count the Phillies once the baseball season gets a little bit more serious in late August and September, or college basketball when UNC throws players out on the court that actually have a pulse.

In any event, here are year-end NBA thoughts has we have finished over one quarter of the season.  These thoughts may all be shaken up after the huge slate of Christmas Day games that we are about to see, namely Heat vs. Lakers.

1. The main thing that everyone probably wants to hear me weigh in on is the Miami Heat. I was as disappointed and confused by the Heat’s slow start as anyone.  I was blinded by the talent of Bosh, Wade and James and figured they had played enough with each other in Beijing and in the offseason when they were hanging out that they would become acclimated very quickly.  I didn’t realize how severe the drop-off in talent between them and the role players would be early on and I really didn’t think that Wade and LeBron would have an issue integrating the rhythms of their games.  However, what we have learned very quickly is what it takes to make an actual team in the NBA.  The early season games between the Heat and the Celtics made that perfectly clear.  The Celtics play as a cohesive unit and have exhibited some extremely graceful and fluid team passing early on in the season.  Rondo orchestrates that team like a maestro and their pieces fall into place perfectly.  They have a deep bench with high energy guys and Doc Rivers understands the psyches of his players, their ups and downs – he knows how to push their buttons at the right times.  The Heat were a totally different beast. Spoelestra had no player rotations down; he thought James should handle the ball and initiate the offense (I thought this too because I, like most people wanted LeBron to be like Magic, when even though he may resemble Magic in body size and stature, he plays basketball like LeBron James and no one else); the team played a lot of half court offense even though their best two players are arguably the two best players of all time in the open court; Wade and LeBron didn’t really move without the ball because they were used to handling the ball so much when they were carrying their own teams; Bosh just seemed lost trying to figure out when to initiate the offense and attack and when to just let LeBron and Wade take control.  The team also had to deal with Mike Miller’s injury and then Udonis Haslem’s.  They had no true rebounder.  However, over the past near month that they have been on their twelve game win streak all of that has changed.  Haslem’s injury actually opened the door for Wade to expand his game and add another purpose, which was to account for the rebounds the team would miss without Haslem. Wade is averaging the highest rebound rate of his career.  The team also added Erick Dampier who has fit in a nice role as a big, tough, body rebounder in the middle to go along with Zydrunas Ilgauskus’ ability to shoot the open jumper and Joel Anthony’s uncoordinated but appreciated effort.  With those three different looks in the middle the Heat have been able to improve their rebound rate drastically. Juan Howard has also found a niche and been able to provide a few points as well as rebound help and toughness off the bench.  With each week Bosh is learning his role.  He was especially terrific in attacking the basket against the Knicks as well as helping to defend Amare.  His rebound rate has improved as well.  The big difference has been the fact that the Heat are now looking to push the ball at every instance, which makes sense because when you have LeBron James or Dwyane Wade getting a good portion of your rebounds, you should always be looking to run and move the ball ahead because chances are one or the other will be streaking upcourt.  Also, Spoelestra has Carlos Arroyo and Mario Chalmers handling the ball as true point guards and letting LeBron operate from the wing.  He and Wade are now moving much better off the ball with Wade finding his go to movement on the baseline where LeBron can find him for quick layups or short jump shots.  I also believe they should run Wade in modified screen sets like the Celtics do with Ray Allen. Instead of Wade’s routes taking him to the outside where Allen splashes all those dagger threes, Wade should curl in the 16-18 foot range where he can catch the ball and either continue his drive into the lane for a layup, dunk, foul or kick out, or stop and hit a jump shot in his range. In either way, it keeps the defense off guard and gives the Heat another look. What has also been big is the solidification of the rotations. Now, Spoelestra lets James lead his own unit at the end of the third quarter and into the fourth quarter and also for the beginnings of many of the second quarters.   That allows Bosh and Wade to rest and for LeBron to keep his confidence and pride up by carrying the second unit.  What is so fascinating about this team is that they are still learning what actually works for them and it is already becoming a little scary. On any given night you know that either LeBron or Wade is going to go off and on some nights both of them do.  What is becoming apparent and what may actually be the key for this team is that Bosh is becoming reliable every night for about 16 to 20 points and about eight to ten rebounds. If he does that almost every night then he will very much be the glue that keeps the team together.  For me, that is one of the many fascinating stories to keep track of with this team. There has literally never been something like this team before. Every game has its own new point of interest and every game is just another experiment in the lab of basketball where each tweak is magnified and you find yourself paying attention to and noticing things you never did before. This is all good stuff right? These guys are selling out arenas, driving up national TV ratings and blowing out teams almost regularly now that they have established an initial chemistry with each other.  All of this has happened in just fewer than thirty games and Wade only played three minutes in the preseason. I and everyone else in America completely overreacted – another unfortunate side effect of being a modern sports fan.

2. The Knicks.  Being a Bulls fan in the 90’s meant I hated the Knicks.  I never liked Patrick Ewing. John Starks and Derek Harper annoyed the hell out of me. Anthony Mason, Charles Oakley and Xavier Daniels were all dirty players who couldn’t keep up with Jordan and Pippen so they had to try and slow them down with hard fouls.  The only times the Knicks were able to do anything was when Jordan was out of the league.  However, now that that era of the game is over, I realize how much I appreciated those players. But what I really appreciated was basketball being relevant in New York and Madison Square Garden being the most electric sports venue in the world.  There really is nothing like it.  Last Wednesday, when the Knicks and the Celtics played perhaps one of the best regular season games in the last decade, the Garden was absolutely on fire. Amare and KG were going head to head. Spike Lee was in the front row waving his arms and being completely obnoxious. Ray Allen hit a dagger three and Spike Lee had to shake his head at his own creation, Jesus Shuttlesworth, silencing the New York crowd.  You had Danilo Gallinari showing why he is a coveted wing player.  Landry Fields showcasing the fact that he was one of the most slept on rookies in a long time.  Raymond Felton was taking the ball at a hobbled Rondo but despite his big numbers was still not able to out play him.  And of course you had Paul Pierce hitting his patented herky-jerky step back jumper from about sixteen feet to win the game.  Then there was the added bonus of Amare draining the game winning three as time expired only to have the shot called off, which prompted Paul Pierce to come to center court and bow to the crowd.  All of this happened at a Knicks game? On a Wednesday night? In the middle of December?  You better believe that basketball is back at the Mecca.  Now, the Knicks are not an elite team and they are on a three game slide as I write this, but they are a team that plays hard and will be in the playoffs.  To me, it’s debatable that they add Carmelo Anthony.  He is a unique superstar who is nearly unstoppable on the wing.  However, he doesn’t play defense and Amare is already a nearly unstoppable offensive force that doesn’t play defense.  In my opinion, they just need to solidify the backup point guard spot so they can spell Felton (like D’Antoni never could in Phoenix for Nash).  They need an athletic shutdown wing defender (like Iguodala from Philly who won’t need to score as much with Amare in the middle) and they need a tough inside presence who can play the true five spot and move Amare to the four spot he prefers to play (not sure how they land that piece).  I think Carmelo upsets the dynamic of this team, which is that Amare is the man and COMPLETELY believes that he is the best player on the court on any night and the rest of the team feeds off that energy.  If you add Carmelo to that mix, I’m not sure what the identity of the team is.  Amare and Carmelo are not Wade and LeBron. Sure, their positions are much different, but they are not as flexible in being able to adapt, as I believe Wade and LeBron are.  It’s all up in the air and I could be completely wrong about Carmelo and Amare playing together. If they did, that team would be some offensive powerhouse running in the D’Antoni system.  However, right now they have a lot of nice pieces, they are a fun, hard working team to watch and they have people in New York thrilled and excited about basketball.  The thrill may wear off when the natural cynicism of New Yorkers slowly seeps back into this initial euphoria, but right now we are witnessing a pure joy that is not often seen in New York sports.  You should all enjoy it because this town is buzzing again about the Knicks and that buzz will always be better and more electric than any buzz about the Yankees, Giants, Jets, Rangers or Mets.  There’s just something different about New York and basketball, I don’t care how many championships the Yankees have one – all 27 of those are stored up in the Bronx.  The Knicks’ championships and banners are in the hallowed halls of Madison Square Garden and those halls run right in Midtown Manhattan. That’s a big difference.

3. The Boston Celtics are an absolutely fantastic basketball team to watch.  They are on a revenge tour through the NBA this year after their heartbreaking loss to Los Angeles in Los Angeles in Game 7 of the Finals.  They want that championship badly and you can actually feel it.  Rajon Rondo has a legitimate shot to break John Stockton’s average assist record. Kevin Garnett seems to be back from the dead and is playing with an intensity that has been missing (mainly due to his injured knee) since the 2007-2008 championship season.  There is a great chance that Garnett could win the Defensive Player of the Year Award and he can also finish dunks again.  Ray Allen never seems to age and seems to make three pointers whenever it counts (I think he is on a mission after his disappearance in the second half of the Finals series).  Pierce is just simply being Paul Pierce as usual and giving this team a championship swagger that was missing the past two years. Shaq has been solid and is doing everything they need him to do (when he’s on the court). Big Baby has improved his game and has become nearly automatic on his 16-18 foot jumpers and is one of the best around the rim finishers in the league right now (playing below the rim).  Nate Robinson has gained a modicum of maturity and has settled into a nice role on the team.  They are even deeper now with Delonte West (when he comes back from injury), Jermaine O’Neal (if he ever plays) and Semih Erden (who has been a pleasant surprise).  Plus they have a fantastic team chemistry that is probably only rivaled by the Thunder and Bulls (though the Heat are making a strong run now).  All of this has happened without Perkins joining the lineup.  I watched the Celtics handle the Hawks on Thursday night without Rondo. Now, this was the night after their emotional win in a packed out and pumped up Madison Square Garden.  As I was watching the game, I was thinking about how good the Celtics were and how their one weakness was rebounding even though their interior defense has been terrific.  Then I realized that Perkins hasn’t even played a minute this whole year.  This team is going to be a beast when the playoffs roll around and I just hope all you casual followers of the NBA realize that this Celtics teams is very similar to all of those vintage NBA teams that we have nostalgia for. This team is deep, it has memorable players, they all play well together and you should appreciate what they do on almost a nightly basis.  Plus I’m pretty sure that Rondo is some kind of alien who was ordered to exhibit the future of basketball at least twice every game.

4. The Los Angeles Lakers are not going to roll over and let anyone take the championship from them. They started off hot, cooled off and are now on a five game winning streak.  They are going to walk away with their division, but the West overall is much more competitive at the top with the Spurs and Mavericks looking pretty tough to beat.  Kobe seems to have lost another step, but still has the best footwork in the NBA and is the number one killer. You know he wants to tie Jordan’s championship tally and this just may be his last chance to do it.  Pau Gasol has actually gotten better and is without a doubt the best post player in the NBA this year (one more year of progress and Dwight may be knocking on that door).  Lamar Odom gained a new level of poise and confidence after being the elder statesman on the FIBA Gold Medal team this summer and is playing with motivation and leadership.  Shannon Brown has made a leap as a player. Steve Blake is an upgrade at backup point guard over Jordan Farmar and Matt Barnes gives them depth, toughness and scoring off the bench.  Oh, and Artest is on this team and is a wild card to go off for points or shut down defense on any given night.  Also that and making the funniest statements known to man.  He actually reminds me of the real life Pedro Cerrano in Major League II this year.  Artest won the championship and is all about charity much like Cerrano was all about Buddhism and peace.  Maybe the Lakers need to get a Japanese player to infuriate Artest into inspired play just like the Indians did.  And, the Lakers, like the Celtics, have been playing much of this season without a key player – Andrew Bynum.  Once they ease Bynum back to his regular minutes and spot in the starting lineup, then the Lakers can bring Odom off the bench and their team takes on a totally different look and returns to their dynamic of the previous two championships.  They are going to be scary and have a legitimate shot at a three peat.  Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen.

5.  Blake Griffin.  If you haven’t watched any of his highlights or if you don’t know what kind of experience it has been to watch this kid play basketball this year, you have some serious catching up to do. Absolutely unreal. He’s like Shawn Kemp and Dominique Wilkens.  Maybe that’s hyperbole but who knows how long this freak is going to be around.  YouTube him NOW!

6.  The intriguing Orlando Magic team.  Look, I have not been a fan of Dwight Howard at all.  I thought he was a “non-killer” in the same vein as LeBron for most of his career. However, this summer he spent time with Hakeem Olajuwon and he has come back with some legitimate post moves that are looking better and better as the year goes on.  He put in his time like the old school NBA players and came back with a new wrinkle and I respect that.  The only thing is that his team has gotten stale. Vince Carter is pretty much washed up and Rashard Lewis is actually dead in some states I believe (those reports aren’t completely accurate).  So, this weekend the Magic made two ballsy moves and shipped Vince to Phoenix with Marcin Gortat and Mikael Pietrus (playing terribly) in exchange for Hedo Turkoglu and Jason Richardson and sent Lewis to the Wizards for the troubled Gilbert Arenas.  I actually like these moves. Hedo only played well on the Magic and created matchup problems when they went to the Finals so he may play inspired ball alongside Dwight. Richardson is a very good three-point shooter and is definitely an upgrade over Vince at the shooting guard spot. And Arenas can lead the second unit for the Magic and be a top sixth man in order to gain some respect and good graces throughout the league to try and get one more contract. I think the Magic needed to shake up their team and this was a good way to do it.  If they can add another, cheap, low post player that can spell Dwight when he gets into foul trouble that would certainly help, but it isn’t a perfect world. We’ll see how the experiment goes because this team can’t afford to waste too many more of Dwight’s prime dominant years, though with these new post moves that period may be longer than we originally thought.  In any case, I always appreciate ballsy trades and the Magic did that this weekend.  Certainly makes their team much more interesting to watch.

7. Kevin Love becoming the best player you never really knew about. He put up a 30 and 30.  That is literally insane.  He and Beasley make the Timberwolves interesting.  They lose a lot of games, but they always play to win, which is definitely an upgrade.

8.  The Bulls and Thunder and their budding rivalry. Rose, Westbrook and Durant were the young leaders of the FIBA Gold Medal team and now they play on two teams filled with young talent who could both go deep into the playoffs. Their teams have already played twice this year and both games have been supremely entertaining.  Both the Bulls and the Thunder have fantastic chemistry throughout their roster and whenever they are on TV you should always make sure to check out their games. You literally can’t wrong watching a basketball game that features Derrick Rose, Joakim Noah, Carlos Boozer, Luol Deng, Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook and Jeff Green.  Hell, I’ll throw Serge Ibaka of Oklahoma City in there too just because he is such a hard working and great player to watch.  These two teams could very well be the two that stand in the way of Miami dominating the league for the next six or seven years. So, get on board now and say that you saw greatness coming years before it came – courtesy of Matt Domino and Puddles of Myself of course.

9.  Chris Paul and Brandon Roy and their injuries.  Paul’s may just be a case of him coping with a knee injury and that can take time for a dominant player like him to get back to the level he was used to playing at. And I believe Paul will get back to his transcendent Isiah Thomas level of basketball soon.  However, Brandon Roy’s knees are basically non-existent and he was one of the best and most likable young players in the league.  Poor Portland.

10.  I’ve already written five thousand words and I could possibly go for another five thousand to expound on how great this NBA season has been so far and how great it could potentially be.  We are only in December and most teams haven’t even played thirty games yet and there are endless fascinating points and storylines to follow.  I may be a huge NBA fan and perhaps some of this stuff is over the heads of a lot of casual fans, but I think 70% of what I have covered is interesting to even the casual NBA fan.  And if you are not interested now, we’ll get you there. I’ll allow you just tuning in next June when the Celtics and Lakers are engaging in the rubber match of their most recent Finals battles.  Then, I’ll get your ear and make you really listen and understand.

The bottom line is that the NBA is well into a new golden age and you should start learning the teams and names now so that you can get on board and then get nostalgic years later while I am trying to pump you up about the next generation.  What can I say? I’m a visionary.  I’m a visionary even if I don’t have an irrational passion for one NBA team. Perhaps I can just leave the irrational passion for a far lest interesting and worthy sport – the NFL. I’ll just leave my irrational, tunnel vision passion for the Philadelphia Eagles. Well, that team and basically everything else in my personal life.  However, those misguided passions will be the topic of a best-selling memoir to come much, much later.

Advantage Nadal

There are only two teams in sports that I will lose my mind over: the Philadelphia Eagles and the University of North Carolina Tar Heels.  I can’t even relay to you how many hours I have spent yelling at various televisions in public or in private when these teams are playing a game on TV.  I grew up in Philadelphia, so I became a die hard Eagles fan.  Over the years I have been pulled in at their attempts at success only to be repeatedly disappointed and tortured by their defeats. It is a cycle that has defined my sports fandom. I became a North Carolina Tar Heel fan because, at the age of seven, my father took me to an event known as the 1993 East Regional Semifinals aka the Sweet Sixteen.  We went to the Meadowlands to watch Virginia take on Cincinnati.  The game ended and I enjoyed my second live basketball game. As I moved to get up, my father stopped me and said, “Hold on.  There’s another game.”  My budding sports fan’s mind couldn’t believe it.  Then, the North Carolina Tar Heels took the floor in their Carolina Blue uniforms.  Eric Montross and Donald Williams were the stars of the team.  They beat Virginia that night and my dad and I didn’t get home until one or two in the morning.  I was hooked on the North Carolina Tar Heels and watched as they went on to win the 1993 NCAA Championship.  My love of these two teams, their players, their traditions – one successful, the other torturous – have been unparalleled throughout my life.  I have screamed horrible things at Cowboys and Giants fans.  I literally hate Duke University and every player that played there (unless they redeem themselves with gritty play in the NBA).  I will never admit that the Cowboys, Giants or Duke Blue Devils ever have a superior team – they always suck and get lucky.  And that has been the story of my sporting passion.

I realized recently, that slowly a third figure was emerging as a figure where I could direct my sporting passion and frustration toward.  Shockingly, this figure emerged in the sport of tennis. I sport I had for the most part always overlooked and even in some cases frowned upon as I was growing up.  However, in part due to this man, my opinion has changed on the sport entirely.  That man is Rafael Nadal.  And, in the most underrated sports story of the year, he has become my third favorite athlete/sports team to root for – perhaps of all time.

How did this happen you ask?  Well let me start in the spring of 2008 when I moved to Williamsburg, Brooklyn.  My roommate was a big tennis fan and as we entered the peak of tennis season with the French Open and Wimbledon, I began to sit and be patient and watch tennis matches with him.  We watched as Nadal won his fourth straight French Open in 2008.  I had seen Nadal play before, but I never paid very close attention.  However, as I watched the 2008 French Open unfold, I realized that he had all the attributes that I enjoyed in an athlete: drive, toughness, determination, grittiness, a bit of magic, passion and the essence of the underdog, the unwillingness to ever give in.  I say “the essence of the underdog” because Federer was then and in many ways still is seen as the best player in the world.  Federer was one of the reasons I did not like tennis.  He seemed to win too easily, he seemed smug (I have since come to find out that he is one of the greatest champions and nicest human beings, but I remain skeptical) and content with himself – in other words, he represented everything that I do not like in other people or in the world.  There was something substantive to Nadal.  He was Spanish and I love the Spanish culture.  He had long hair and played hard, so hard that everyone questioned if he could keep up his pace.  He was like a Romantic poet, like Keats or Shelley, someone who may just die at 25 or 26 because they are too damn explosive for this world.

Then, we came to Wimbledon 2008.  In my personal life, Wimbledon came on the last day of one of the best Fourth of July weekends I have ever had in my life.  Quite possibly the best, though this past one has risen very close to that level. As I watched the match at my kitchen table with friends of mine who were staying over, we suddenly realized that we were watching history.  We were watching quite possibly the best tennis match of all time.  You had Nadal and Federer with two contrasting styles, but both with the same desire to win the match.  This was on tennis’ biggest stage.  There was the drama of the rain that continued to threaten.  There was Nadal jumping up two sets and then Federer coming back.  There were the rain delays and then the match entered a fifth set and everyone began to wonder if the darkness would set in and that the match would have to be concluded on Monday – the fortnight plus one.  My friends and I also had the added drama of catching a train back to the city.  As the match went on, we let one train go. The match continued and we decided to let a second train go.  The match continued and we needed to make the third train or else we wouldn’t have a ride to the station. So, we sat in anticipation as the fifth set carried on into tiebreak.  Nadal and Federer went back and forth.  The match stretched closer and closer to the five hour mark. Finally, as the darkness was just about to envelop the edges of the stadium, and that iconic green court would have turned to a murky purple and grey, Nadal forced Federer into the net, collapsed on his back and screamed up into the evening air, his all white uniform standing out against the gloaming.  Federer cried (of course) as Nadal held up the Wimbledon trophy. Then, my friends and I grabbed a train to head back to the city and our overheated apartments.

Nadal kept the hits coming as he won the Gold Medal in the 2008 Olympics while Federer bowed out early.  Everyone began to question Federer’s dominance as Nadal rose to number one in the world.  However, I watched Nadal lose to Andy Murray at the U.S. Open and felt that first burning in my chest that some injustice had been done to my man.  Murray wasn’t better, he must have cheated.  Murray sucked and he got lucky.  Those were the thoughts that ran through my head.

When the tennis season resumed in February 2009 for the 2009 Australian Open, I found myself genuinely excited to watch.  And, when Federer and Nadal were to face each other once more in the final, I had to stay up all night.  I had been out at a show and been drinking, but I kept myself up at least long enough to watch the epic first set of that match.  The first set lasted nearly and hour as Federer and Nadal went back and forth. Nadal came out strong, but then Federer took control of the set, only to have Nadal come roaring back. They each made impossible shot after impossible shot. I sipped on late night beers just to keep my engine going, but I could barely keep my eyes open. Finally, Nadal won the set and I was able to stumble to my room and fall asleep in the four in the morning darkness. But not before I streamed coverage of the match on my computer.  I woke up the next morning to the terrific news that Nadal had won in four sets. He had certainly pulled even with Federer and was looking to leave the former smug champion in his rearview mirror.  As the spring came, I was anticipating another glorious summer of Nadal, who I all of a sudden realized I was a fan of.

However, Nadal injured his knee in the French Open when he lost to Soderling, which allowed Federer to win the French Open – the one tournament he had never won before.  That was followed by Federer defeating an ever-so-earnest Andy Roddick in the longest Wimbledon Final of all time.  We had to watch Roddick make self-deprecating jokes after playing the best tennis of his life and still losing to an off the charts smug looking Federer. I had to watch Federer in his gold and white jump suit as he was coronated “The Best Tennis Player of All Time” with the Most Grand Slam Tournament Championships of All-Time.  It made me sick. And I realized that that sensation, that sickness was the same emotion I had only reserved for the New York Giants, the Dallas Cowboys and the Duke Blue Devils.  I wanted blood.

Nadal tried to come back at the U.S. Open but fell meekly to Del Potro in the semifinals on a strange grey September day in New York.  Then, after I waited with a shocking amount of anxiousness for the 2010 Tennis Season, Nadal had to retire against Murray at the Australian Open.  The floodgates opened for the pundits – “this is it for Nadal,” “his knees couldn’t keep up,” “his game isn’t like Federer’s,” “he’ll still go down as one of the best.”  I couldn’t stand all of this, because I knew that he had more in him.  I knew that Nadal would not be denied.  He was an underdog, he was tough, he had a passion for the game that seemed to extend outward to life; in short, he reminded me of a young me.

Fast forward to this past June.  Nadal smokes Soderling in the French Open Final after Federer had lost to Soderling in the Quarterfinals.  It’s Nadal’s fifth French Open and seventh Grand Slam Championship.  Nadal is healthy.  He is ready to head to Wimbledon and win another title there.  He cruises through the first two rounds but goes five sets in the third.  Then, on June 12, the day the U.S. lost to Ghana, I woke up to find Nadal struggling against some guy named Petzschner.  He was down two sets to one and it looked like Petzschner was going to win the match.  I was slightly hung over and I was livid. My apartment was boiling hot and I just lost it.

“God damnit! Come on, Nadal! This guy looks like Tom Jane! You can’t fucking lose to him!”

Nadal fought back to tie the set, but then Petzschner pulled ahead again.  The pillows started flying across my living room.  However, Nadal composed himself (through a trainer break) and came back to win the set and tie the match at two sets apiece.  He was back in it and he had the mental edge. Heading into the fifth set, you knew that Petzschner was done.  And he was.  Petzschner had come so close to defeating Nadal, he had used all the essential tools to beat Nadal (strong serve that forces Nadal back on the baseline, attacking the net to keep him off-guard, for Nadal thrives on keeping his opponents off-guard with off-speeed shots), yet he couldn’t finish it off.  Nadal cooly won the fifth set 6-4.  He was into the quarters to play Soderling. I knew he’d beat Soderling after the confidence Nadal displayed at the French Open and as I followed the game tracker at work I was pleased to see he did.  I was also pleased to see that Federer lost .  The head boss at my office noticed I was following the matches.

“Did he lose?” He asked me.

“Federer?” I hid my nerves.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, Berdych beat him pretty cooly.”

“I can’t believe it. And Nadal?”

“Beat Soderling in straight sets.”

“I play so much tennis,” he said. “That I don’t watch tennis.” He chuckled and walked away in his finely tailored Italian suit.

Nadal was even helping me score points with my boss.  So, I knew that when he faced Murray, a player who had Nadal’s number in the past, that he would win.  And, following at work again, I was pleased to see my prediction come true.  Nadal beat him in straight sets.  Just outworking him and taking all the advantages that Murray gave him and also allowing Murray to beat himself.  I knew that Nadal would beat Berdych in the Wimbledon Final.

I woke up on Sunday morning with a house full of people.  We had partied by my pool the night before. As people staggered in and sat around the kitchen table with my family and I and our bagels and the hot, black coffee, we all watched as Nadal, once again cooly beat his opponent in straight sets.  He had won his second Wimbledon Title.  Reading about the match afterwards, Berdych said that Nadal was not playing his best, but that he just couldn’t use the opportunities to beat him.  It was then that I realized Nadal had become what Federer once was – the man that lets his opponent beat himself; that, even is he is not playing his best game, will not be beaten, becaue his opponents are so aware of the opportunity they have to beat the best, that they end up forcing their own mistakes and give the match away.  This was the trademark of the Federer era and it will be the trademark of the Nadal era.

As I look forward to Nadal trying to win the Career Slam at only 24 years old at the U.S. Open in September, I can’t help but think of how much he’s been through.  His knees have constantly been questioned.  He witnessed his parents’ divorce last year.  He suffered humiliating defeats and forfeits, yet at 24 years old, he has 8 Grand Slams to Federer’s 16.  Federer had only 5 by the time he was 25.  We will see if Nadal has to rack up all of his championships while he is young and if his game will not hold up over time.  However, I love Rafael Nadal.  And I do not doubt him for a second.  His serve has improved, his backhand is devastating and he is rounding his game out to keep the pressure off his knees.  He is in amazing shape and he defeats his opponents mentally by first defeating them physically.  He is a machine that can’t be stopped or slowed down. You see his opponents getting tired when they are up 2 sets to 1.  But Nadal never slows down.  You know he’s going to win.  He’s doesn’t suck and isn’t lucky like Federer is.  In Nadal, there is passion, there is grit, there is always that underdog essence.  And most of all, he wants to beat Federer because he wants to be the best.

That’s why I love him. He’s got me as a fan now and there will be plenty of expletives and thrown household objects to come.

Puddles of My Podcast - Episode 10

I promise you a podcast and I deliver you a podcast.  What can I tell you? When my Puddlers call, I gotta listen - no matter what time of night.  This is Episode 10 of the podcast formally known as Podcast of Myself, but now known as Puddles of My Podcast.  In this Episode 10, I welcome a very exhausted Jamie Ayers, lead singer of the band Snakes Say Hisss.  In this conversation, Jamie and I discuss the origin of Snakes Say Hisss, iTunes reviews, working the overnight shift, Alicia Keys, the Famous Class,  the upcoming Snakes Say Hiss album, the speed of the creative process, Donovan McNabb and Philadelphia sports, the new Future Islands album and bad apartments.

Tomorrow, er, later today, I will be posting a column I wrote for Brooklyn Exposed about a day in Cobble Hill that will not be published as originally intended, but which I want to share with you all anyway.

This is the place to be, so never feel bad. I'll see you later today.  Like Mr. Deeds says, "I'll bring the beers. I'll bring the beers."

The Ballad of Donovan McNabb

I could list off all the stats from Donovan McNabb’s ten-year tenure in Philadelphia: first in every relevant passing and quarterbacking category, five NFC Championship Game appearances, one Super Bowl appearance, six Pro Bowl Selections, five NFC East Division Titles and eight playoff appearances.  However, I never write about sports because of the numbers; I don’t write about sports to use the numbers as an effective strategy of evaluating talent and managing a team, because, although I can manage many aspects of life, I never look to sports for management or organization, which is somewhat of a paradox in an institution which is based on various levels of organization.   I have always looked to sports, as many do, for a release of my emotions, to let down the guard of daily priorities and deadlines in order to be taken away in the human emotion and narrative of the game.  Like many use movies, I use sports as my escape, and at the same time as that strange vantage point in which to view the human condition.

Now that the Eagles have traded Donovan McNabb to the Washington Redskins, it feels like a part of my own life has been traded away.  It’s not as though my memories, good and bad, have been taken away forever, but at the same time, it’s an era that has ended; a certain sensation lost.  This is mainly because there has not been another sports figure in my life that I have grown up so closely with or have been as “intimate” with in the ultimate sense of sports.  As a basketball fan, I of course grew up with Michael Jordan however, he was a far more omnipresent sports deity than McNabb ever was.  As a Philadelphia fan, I grew up in the Eric Lindros era, but he was too much of a primadonna and an underachiever to truly embrace. As a Philadelphia and basketball fan, I grew up in the Allen Iverson era.  Iverson was a figure who I admired greatly for his athletic ability, his toughness, his desire to win and for his defiant attitude – although that attitude often worked to his own detriment.  He was a figure that fit perfectly with the Philadelphia sensibility and left us with many memorable moments.  However, I was far more invested in the NBA as a whole than in the Sixers themselves and traditionally, like most Philadelphians, I have always been an Eagles fan first and foremost.

So, in 1999, a pitiful franchise drafted a black quarterback with a canon arm and unheard of agility with the second pick of the NFL Draft.  The crowd infamously booed at McNabb when he was introduced onstage, which signaled the beginning of the love/hate (mostly hate) relationship between Philadelphia and Donovan McNabb for the next ten years.  I was fourteen years old when the Eagles drafted McNabb.   I am now twenty-four years old.  In McNabb’s time as quarterback, I have seen three different presidents, graduated high school, graduated college, seen Phish break up and reunite twice, lost my grandmother, fallen in love, lived in three different “cities” and had a world of other experiences that feel like they belong to a different life.  In McNabb’s ten years as quarterback, he has been both savior and the ultimate goat; he has been a courageous opponent of racism and bad radio hosting (Rush Limbaugh); he has been the focus of a pro-sports soap opera (T.O. vs. McNabb); he’s been injured and been washed up; he’s made one of the best plays in NFL history; been to the Super Bowl; played on a broken ankle; and has at times been the most electrifying and exciting player in the entire league.  He has gotten married and had kids, while I have been put on the precipice of finding my role in the world.  He has been an integral part of my life – a focus of my adoration and scorn. Even though I have never met him and probably never will, he feels like her is a distant member of my family.  I have never felt that way about a professional athlete and I don’t know when I will again.

To demonstrate McNabb’s presence in my life, I want to share three stories that sum up the McNabb era to me:

1.  2001 NFC Championship Game (January 2002). Eagles vs. Rams at the Edward Jones Dome in St. Louis. The Rams are one of the best teams in the league.  They are known as “The Greatest Show on Turf” with Marshall Faulk, Kurt Warner, Isaac Bruce and Tory Holt lining up on offense.  I was in a local bar at my town watching the game with the father of one of my sister’s childhood friends.  He was a Philadelphia transplant as well and faced the same amount of adversity as I did sticking to our favorite football team deep in Jets/Giants territory.  The Rams were heavily favored in the game, as the Eagles had made an impressive run beating the Giants and Bears to get to the NFC Championship Game.  At the end of the first half, the Eagles were actually beating the Rams 17-14.  I was 16 at the time and had never experienced this kind of success or excitement as an Eagles fan.  My lasting memory as a fan had been watching the Eagles lose to the Cowboys in the 1992 Divisional Game and crying like a baby (well that and the infamous 4th and 1 stand against the Cowboys in 1995). I looked to my sister’s friend’s father and told him that I thought the Birds had the game.  This man, being a far more experienced Eagles fan and a drinker than I, told me to hold tight and bought me what was a very welcome underage beer.  I sipped on that beer and a few others as McNabb came out cold and inaccurate in the second half and the Rams took the lead going into the fourth quarter.  I felt the same feeling in my stomach that had wrenched me apart back in 1992.  However, McNabb came alive in the fourth quarter and put the Eagles up before the Rams came back to take the lead.  I gripped the pint glass in horror as the Rams regained possession due to the Eagles continued offensive problems. But the Eagles defense came through and stopped the Rams, giving the Eagles the ball with 2:20 left and one timeout.  McNabb and the Eagles took the ball into Rams territory, but McNabb threw an interception and that was the game.  I looked at my sister’s friends’ father and he shot me a knowing grin.  That same feeling from 1992 exploded in my stomach and he slid me another pint as I watched Donovan, helmet off, shaking his head as the confetti fell in the Edward Jones Dome.  Something about his look told me they would be back the next year.  Two weeks later, Tom Brady became a household name.

2. 2003 Home Opener. Eagles vs. Buccaneers.  The Eagles had blown the NFC Championship Game against the Buccaneers the year before and the Bucs had gone on to win the Super Bowl.  I thought the game was a fluke and heading into the 2003 season it looked like the Eagles were vastly improved and were the favorites along with the Patriots to win the Super Bowl.  However, they came out flat in the first game of the season against the Buccaneers.  They looked uninspired, as though they had forgotten how to play football.  I was a freshman at college and I remember frightening the crap out of my roommate when, after a terrible Donovan pass, I ripped my phone out of the wall and hurled it across the room and into the wall, letting it smash into pieces all over the floor. According to my roommate, I then muttered, “I don’t want to live anymore.”  A classic McNabb era moment.

3. 2004 Super Bowl (February 2005). Jacksonville, Florida.  New England Patriots vs. Philadelphia Eagles. Finally, the two best teams in the league before the season began, met in the Super Bowl.  This was the game that most of America wanted to see.  We had Tom Brady and the Patriots going up against McNabb and Terrell Owens who made a dramatic return from a foot injury. I had friends at college who were older than me and who had an off-campus house.  We bought a keg, a hero from the (then unknown) local Italian deli, and a tray of buffalo wings.  We had everything set up.  As the game went on and we got drunker and drunker, we didn’t realize that the TiVo had been turned on earlier in the day and that we were watching the game on delay.  So, when the neighbors ran in (Patriots fans) screaming about the Patriots winning, when we were watching the Eagles receive the ball with the chance to make a dramatic fourth quarter comeback win, we were baffled. However, I then watched as McNabb mismanaged the two-minute drill and then threw up on the field.  The pinnacle of my experience as an Eagles fan had been ruined by TiVo and McNabb throwing up from “exhaustion.” My friend, a Patriots fan, turned to me and said, “Even I can’t really enjoy this one.”

As I look back on all of these McNabb memories, and even think of some of the more successful ones like the Broken Ankle Game or the Scramble Throw Game, I feel as though maybe these three stories don’t capture the feeling that I am trying to describe.  Instead, I am reminded of the 2003 NFC Championship Game (January 2004). Eagles vs. Panthers in Philadelphia.  The Eagles are heavily favored to get over the hump and play the Patriots in the Super Bowl.  The only problem is, they don’t show up.  They play listlessly against the Panthers and again look like they have forgotten how to play football. I am watching the game in my basement, throwing anything that is not nailed down. My family is upstairs and, after having bought me snacks to watch the game during my first winter break home from college, are cowering in fear.  As the Eagles blew another chance to take control of the game, I hurled the remote at the wall and screamed, “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” I felt that same explosion in my stomach and I felt as though I were going to cry all over again – just like 1992.  However, I didn’t.  But looking back on that moment now, it seems to sum up everything to me.  It’s just me, alone, with McNabb and the Eagles and things just aren’t going the way they should be going.  During those peak years of McNabb’s run 2001-2004, every time he and the Eagles failed, it just seemed wrong, like it wasn’t supposed to happen.  They had tremendous seasons each year and he was so exciting and so multitalented and such a “nice” guy that it seemed like he was going to be the one to put Eagles fans out of their misery.  However, he never could and that wasn’t supposed to happen.

So, now, after ten years with the Eagles, he has been traded to division rival Washington. I won’t hold it against the Eagles for trading him and hopefully I will get over seeing him in a Redskins uniform, although that may never actually happen.  Something tells me it will always be strange to me, because he shouldn’t have been traded to the Redskins.  He should have remained an Eagle until the end of his career, because we are the only city that deserved him.  Only Philadelphia deserves an athlete who was talented and successful but never appreciated.  Yeah, McNabb did choke and choke often, but he was booed on the first day.  He was constantly put on the cross when no Philadelphia fan would do the same to themselves for being a bad fan.   McNabb wasn’t supposed to go to Washington – he was supposed to stay in Philly to keep the fans miserable.

Or, maybe the trade all makes sense.  Because, like I said, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”