Praise be to the Football Gods, for they have delivered us victory over our accursed foes, the Eagles of Philadelphia. Praise be!
Man, what a game that was. I've never been so sick about a game in all of my years of watching football. The first half was torturous to watch, especially considering the fact that Keg and I had a bet, a bet he ultimately lost. On the subject of the bet, I have to give Keg a lot of credit. Many people would hem and haw about having to pay the piper and he held up his end of the bargain with flying colors. Keg, I got yer back brother, and that's for damn sure.
When I was watching the game, I was disgusted to see that Clinton Portis's mother had to be escorted from the stand because some Philly fan was throwing stuff at her. Then I read that she punched said Philly fan in the nose and I laughed and laughed. Now, I'm not one to advocate violence, especially at sporting events when everyone has paid good money to watch the game, support their team and have a good time, but I bet when that Philly fan woke up Sunday morning, the last thing she expected to end the day with was a knuckle sandwich from Clinton Portis's mom.
Now that the dust has settled, we set our sights on Tampa. Ah, Tampa, the site of our last playoff appearance, back when Brad Johnson was throwing the ball for us and we were giddy with playoff fever. Let's hope this game turns out better. Whatever happens, it should be a good game. I'll just have to make sure I keep my mouth shut, as the kids learned a few choice words as they lay snuggled in their beds during the Eagles games. Personally, I think Ben learned to say "What the hell are you doing?", "Goddamn it!" and "Stop fucking committing fucking offside fucking penalties! Fuck! Fuck! Fuckheimer Fuckenstein McFuckyFuck!" from the Wiggles.
Oh, and I won my Vegas Odds Pick'em pool. The Football Gods truly are generous.