The End - Eagles Out of the Playoffs

Sigh. I can’t begin to explain how it felt to watch the final game of the season for the Philadelphia Eagles. It’s bad enough that I was already beginning to go through pre-withdrawal symptoms knowing that football season is coming to an end. I start to get that sickly feeling of panic every January. But to have my team that had so much promise heading into the final weeks of play be plucked from the playoff nest by none other than the same team that plucked over us last week was more than a poor sensitive girl’s heart could take.

You see, the Eagles are MY team. They are the only team to ever welcome me into the locker room. (But I promise you I didn’t look down, I kept it professional.) They are a team with so much rich and vibrant history, so much fandemonium, and so much promise, but not enough to make it to another round. After all in January it’s one and done when the clock winds down and you don’t have the most points.
I was all decked out in my terrycloth Donovan McNabb NFL gear dress. Thank God I could still fit into it! I had my matching Eagles green fur scarf and leather gloves on complete with black tights and black Uggs as I headed out to do my Saturday morning errands. I was greeted by a few other fans that were geared out in their Bird attire enjoying the essence of victory in the air on this cold sunlit day. There were high fives everywhere I went. I celebrated with the bag boy at the supermarket. I chanted the fight song with the guy behind the counter at the dry cleaner. I laughed with the people buying the green icing covered doughnuts at Dunkin who were getting ready for the game. All the traffic lights were green and even the ATM at the bank had the proud Eagles emblem staring down at all those seeking green eagle laden bills from the machine. We were all ready! Just not ready for a loss.

It seemed that things would turn out differently at the start of the game. McNabb came out of the tunnel full of energy. There was a sense of pride filling our feathers. The playing field seemed level as a pass from Mike Vick to Jeremy Maclin was our first score in five quarters of play against the Cowboys. Then in the strangest twists of fate, an interception by Philly’s Sean Jones was red flagged and reviewed and overturned in the Cowboys favor. THE END.

We never recovered. We were penalized for over 100 yards. And that excludes being penalized for playing so poorly. That’s the worst penalty of all, the one that forces you to hang up your cleats and call it a year. I sat and wondered why this was so difficult? Why did we pass, and pass, and pass and keep passing when it clearly wasn’t working. It was almost like a case of nerves got to us and we were just plain freaked out by the stage and the microscope that was on us. Regardless, the outcome is the outcome and it isn’t one that we wanted.

I know that right here I should insert the paragraph that gives Dallas their props. But I just can’t do it. Sorry. And our final, final score for the 2009 season, 34-14.
Funny thing is I had felt so good about this game. I signed up for the NFL Playoff Fantasy Challenge. I used Philadelphia’s defense, Desean Jackson, Brent Celek, and David Akers because I believed and I believed hard! I scored miserably, just like they did.

But don’t get me wrong, I still love my TEAM more than ever and we’ll just have to do it next year. Before the sweat could dry on the players’ foreheads the Philly press was serving fried Eagle for dinner. Not me. You love them when they’re up and you love them when they’re down. If there are changes that need to be made, so be it. But the turncoat type of talk isn’t going to get us any closer to a Superbowl victory than if we pat our guys on the back and say, “Next year guys.” And yes, I do realize that we’ve been saying that for decades.

It will be interesting to see how things work out in the City of Brotherly love for next season. In the meantime, I will cherish the last few games of the season and contemplate another Superbowl birthday weekend in Miami like I had in 2007, except with no rain and a lot less champagne. (Ouch.) For now, my McNabb dress and jersey will go into storage and I believe that they will still be relevant next season.
It’s been a fun ride chickies. And although it won’t be at an Eagles game, I’ll see you on the sideline.
Tito, hand me a tissue please.

Helen “Love My Eagles” Little