I love the Eagles. Their performance actually dictates the flow of my week.
They win, I’m sane. They win a lot, I’m happy.
They lose, I’m pissed. They choke in the playoffs, I’m suicidal.
So I guess it comes as no surprise that I haven’t been in the best of moods these last few weeks.
It’s been a test of patience and a clinic in repetition.
Tuesday–wallow in nothingness.
Wednesday–turn the page.
Thursday–gain some faint, false hope for the upcoming game.
Friday–convince myself they will win. Somehow.
Sunday–wonder who’d miss me if I were gone.
When I got the job here, I figured I’d be writing about a dynamic team that would contend for a Super Bowl.
That hasn’t been the case.
Instead, after a mere one week of hope, it’s been a rapid decline into the depths of the NFC. And depths of depression.
It’s been miserable.
And it’s been the same complaints. Over. And. Over. Again.
Fire Andy Reid. Juan Castillo sucks. This team can’t tackle. They turn the ball over too much. Their red zone offense sucks. Their red zone defense sucks. How could (insert player name here) make that mistake? These guys are overpaid, over-hyped, and underwhelming.
What the hell else is there to say? What can I bring you right now as a writer that hasn’t been already said?
I’ll leave you with this thought. As bad as this start has been, the Eagles can climb within 2 games of the NFC East lead with 11 games left should they somehow beat Washington this Sunday. And this division is putrid, top to bottom.
Since 1990, of the five teams who have qualified for the postseason after starting 1-4, each of those five teams won to get to 2-4.
So, theoretically, this season is not over. But it sure feels like it is.
At least tomorrow is Tuesday–time to wallow in nothingness.