Fresh off a thousand word treatise on how some dude recently ate potato chips while peeing in the stall next to me, I did not have the energy to write a linear story on the Eagles' Monday night debacle against the Redskins. Instead I decided to take a page out of the book of ESPN.com’s comedic genius Bill Simmons, and write about the hometown team in diary style. So to the anonymous Philly expat in New York who used my latest piece as a platform to whine about how we don’t cover sports here at the Phillyist, this one’s for you:
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The Eagles have come a long way. After being left for dead in late November - they lost McNabb in a 31-13 loss to the Titans, which was followed by a 45-21 loss to the Colts - they reeled off five straight wins with a quarterback that all the NFL considered a washout after showing some ability in San Francisco. The super undead Eagles - coach Reid himself, as well as several players, was using the zombie comparison in the last two weeks - go charging into the playoffs as the hottest team in the NFL, akin to a fully restored and fully revved hot-rod that's been unleashed on the streets after years lying under a tarp.
How cruel of the Eagles to win on Monday night, pulling us all back into the hunt for the playoffs like that. Why did they have to beat a Panthers team expected to win Super Bowl XLI and take their spot in the playoff ladder? Why couldn’t Jeff Garcia have just embarrassed himself and taught coach Andy Reid a lesson for not opting for A.J. Feely? Why did they have to build our hopes back up, only to disappoint us in heartbreaking fashion?
