The Eagles Are One Win Away from Their Second Super Bowl Appearance
What a Christmas present and a New Years Gift all in one. Tampa Bay lost to the lowly Raiders. Chicago
lost to the Texans. God was shining on us and all we had to do was beat the hated Dallas Cowboys. Led to the Promised Land by Donovan McNabb the Eagles blasted the Dallas Cowboys 44-6. Now the Birds are in the NFC Championship game against the hated Arizona Cardinals. One more win and we'll play in the Super Bowl.
My love affair with The Bums began the year I was born 1952. I'm a Philly kid. I was born Albert Einstein Hospital. My dad took me to my first Eagles game in 1960. I have vivid memories of Tommy McDonald catching touchdown passes and throwing the ball into the stands. Tommy McDonald wrote my first sports book I read, "They Pay me to Catch Footballs."
I have found memories the BOOS that echoed in my head when the Eagles lost. I saw Timmy Brown, Norm Van Brocklin, Chuck Bednarik and Pete Retzlaff play at Franklin Field. I remember when Chuck Bednarik ended Frank Gifford's career in 1961.
The curse of being an Eagles die-hard fan is you're always hoping and wishing The Birds will win a championship. You go to the games year and year out. You sometimes win but mostly lose. They are up by 10 points with two minutes left in the game. Yet, the Eagles find a way to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and lose. It happens every time. It's our lot in life. It's who we are. They break your heart every time. They do it year after year. They lead you right to the doorstep of greatness then they always find a way to lose. This is our fate.
Six weeks ago the Eagles were dead and buried. The Doofus heads eked out a 13-13 with the Bungles, I mean the Bengal's.
The following week McNabb was pulled from the Ravens game at halftime. They were killed 37-6. Sure the halftime score was a poultry 10-7. But that was a very deceiving score. The Bums defense stopped the Ravens dead in their tracks. It should have been 21-0. The only score a 97-yard kick-off return for a touchdown.
The drive by media screamed, " McNabb is done in Philly. Reid's done as well too. This is the end for them."
But wait it gets better. Thanksgiving night, McNabb played like a man possessed and they de
stroyed the Cardinals 48-20. Our hearts jumped for joy. The birds won their next three games. We were all on the precipice of the play-offs but the Redskins beat us 10-3.
The birds were cooked. We all screamed, " Stick a fork in them. They're done."
Eagles announcer Merle Reese puts it best, " This team can drive you to drink."
During the entire season Harry and I call each other on game day. We live and die with the Eagles. It's in our blood. Our DNA. It's our curse. We're Eagles fans.
