Monday Eagles Hangover: What's That Guy's Name Again?

Due to the vagaries of work schedules and air travel, I managed to be locked in an aluminum tube somewhere over America from kickoff through the end of the third quarter of last night's game.  So I'm a little late to the party here.  That said, I did manage to plow through the entire game on the DVR last night (as well as the post-game coverage) as well as all of the IgglesBlog comments.  It was like my own little NFL Replay session, complete with BLT from a local diner (which, gloriously enough, still delivered after midnight on Sundays). 

The upside of chugging the whole game in 90 minutes is that I already knew how it ended.  (That is, there was no way that I wasn't going to frantically follow the end of the game on my phone on the cab home from the airport.)  And when you know the game is going to end with the good guys smiling triumphantly, well, you save yourself a lot of anguish (as you can imagine).  So, the stuff that was driving everyone nuts in the comments looked, to me, like charming little obstacles to be dismissed and overcome en route to glory. 

Some morning-after talking points:

Your official feel-good story of the year.  Antonio Dixon, the guy whose name Derek and I didn't know as recently as the Chiefs game, blocked a field goal last night and was invited by Andy Reid to deliver the post-game cheer.  Reid continued to gush about Dixon today at his day-after presser.  For every disappointment (poor Stacy Andrews, we're willing to blame it on his knee), there's also a guy who outperforms expectations (and does it in a polite and charming way).  Good on you, Antonio Dixon.

Eagles win, and the Donovan McNabb Exodus Watch commences?  GCOBB kicked it off over the weekend, and WIP has been hot on the trail last night and this morning, leading to a fresh round of palace intrigue regarding Andy Reid being in and Donovan McNabb being out.  Dude.  So there are only 16 regular-season games.  If we're lucky (and we've been lucky), we get a couple weeks of playoffs.  And then we have like seven months of nothing.  I think I'm going to save the speculation regarding who'll be the quarterback next year for the seven months of nothing.  Speaking of, I much prefer the spot we're in with McNabb this Monday before Thanksgiving to the spot we were in last Monday before Thanksgiving.

Charles Tillman was the inverse of Jay Cutler.  I'd been looking forward to booing Jay Cutler's sullen suckiness all week, and his effort last night did not disappoint.  He was not good even a little bit.  To a degree that was bringing joy into my otherwise empty life.  ("Look, he just missed another guy for a sure touchdown and is getting booed by the home crowd!")  In addition to playing poorly, his body language was just awful, leading us all to believe that he's not dealing well with Chicago and its expectations of him (awesome!).  The thinking this morning is that if Cutler had been a little better, then maybe the result would have been different.  But I'd also postulate that if Charles Tillman hadn't been running around blasting balls off guys' chests (three forced fumbles is no joke), the Eagles may have scored a few more points as well.  Sure, the quarterback is more important than a defensive back, but if we're going to focus on one guy who played poorly, let's also note the guy who played extremely well.  Essentially, these fouls (almost) offset.   

I think I have a new favorite play.  I think it's the one where the other team plays a safety deep, thinking that they want to keep DeSean Jackson in front of them, and then said safety realizes half a second too late that if DeSean Jackson is running at them, they're going to need to start revving their legs a little sooner than usual...and it's already too late.  That doesn't get old.  It's also pretty easy to throw for McNabb, though he doesn't seem to get that he really can't overthrow DeSean.  

LA Story.  I spent the end of last week and the weekend in the greater LA area.  I was about a week late to see the Eagles play in person, but I still made the trek to what I understood to be a solid Birds bar in Santa Monica, The Shack.  As the charming proprietors Patrick and Janet reminded me when I showed up in my DeSean Jackson shirt, I was about six hours early for kickoff.  Point taken.  But I needed some sort of Eagles fix, and the delicious cheesesteak hoagie plus the Eagles gear on the walls confirmed that I was among civilized and knowledgeable sports enthusiasts.

Why you shouldn't be shy about wearing your football jersey on random commercial airline flights.  Sure you're in your mid-thirties and other adults will roll their eyes, but maybe one of the flight attendants will announce that she's a big Eagles fan and give you free Miller Lite.  Living the dream!