Dynasty Tracker

Eagles Dynasty Tracker – Week 6: Red Rooster

In an effort to follow the Eagles on their Manifest destiny of self-purported greatness, I’ll hit the road to enjoy the Delaware Valley on NFL Sundays. Last Sunday, it was Eagles/Lions one day after a wedding. Woah boy. 

Week 6: The Jug Handle Inn – Cinnaminson, NJ 

The Scene: I touched on this a bit last week but the dreaded Saturday night party/1pm start time debacle was in full effect on Sunday. Two of my friends got married on Saturday night in Mount Laurel. Instead of being a smart human and simply walking 100 feet outside of the hotel I stayed at to Miller’s Ale House, I opted for Cinnaminson’s Jug Handle Inn and the place that has “the best wings in South Jersey.” Too bad I couldn’t actually eat them! News at 11. 

Menu: Water…Gatorade….green tea….BBQ Pulled Pork and potato chips…Water. 

Game: Detroit at Philadelphia. The Lions hadn’t defeated Philadelphia since 1986. What could possibly go wrong??????

Our journey begins on Friday night. While preparing for Saturday’s wedding at home, I was scarfing down some glutten-free popcorn when I got a kernel stuck in my tooth.

You know those hard to reach places in the back of your teeth that are impossible to fix by simply brushing your teeth?

Well, imagine that but even more annoying to reach.

Early Saturday afternoon, numerous attempts to floss out the kernel proved fruitless.

Finally, one last attempt netted something.

Popcorn kernel?


How about a part of my tooth.

In an effort to find a popcorn kernel, I cracked a back tooth in multiple places, hours before a wedding no less.

Tooth or no tooth, party time awaited. Unfortunately though, any partaking of the Jug’s famous wings a day later was now compromised unless I wanted teeth to fall out of my mouth.

Fast-forwarding to Sunday, I woke up in a Mount Laurel hotel. Oh, that reminds me. I highly recommend Aloft.

Greatest hotel bed ever. It’s a modernized room. I loved every second of it and squeezed every last second out of my stay. I even made an unnecessary $7 purchase of green tea, a fruit cup, and orange juice to hang out in the lobby and just to stay longer.

Having said that, Sunday was a marathon morning. Due to a 3am bedtime early Sunday morning amongst other fun, I was wiped out.

Near the end of the reception, the bride’s mom reminded me of a highly true statement of any good wedding/reception:

The end of it sucks.

With that theory in mind, several of my friends and I were out until 2am bouncing back and forth between the hotel bar and Miller’s Ale House.


I even had a Sterling Sharpe sighting, who essentially blew me off after I called his name. He felt like watching SEC football took priority. Sterling, give me a head nod next time, bud.

Anyhow, being Johnny Goodtimes on Saturday night and into Sunday morning conspired to make Sunday all the more gruesome.

I have two common principles to abide by after a wedding and a night of partying:

1. The only remedy that truly fixes you is time…or exercise. You can drink all of the water in the world and ingest all of the grease you want, but it will not work in the long run. You’ll only feel worse. Time is the best healer.  The only other logical way to attack a night of adult beverages is to workout the next day. However, that’s about as appealing to people as watching a “Blaine Gabbert Greatest Games as a Jaguar” DVD.

2. No shenanigans. I like a straight-forward day after weddings. I like to analyze the event and veg out with limited interruptions and/or errand running. Keep it simple and low-key, stupid. That’s my credo.

When I arrived to the Jug Handle Inn last Sunday, edict #2 was violated. After finishing up a Gatorade, I got out of my car to take some pics for the blog.

That’s when I heard a peculiar sound.

A loud, constant crowing from a rooster began soon after I exited the car.

Let me tell you, when you’re operating on about five solid hours of sleep, listening to a rooster crow is roughly 1,334 on my list of things I enjoy hearing.

In previous trips, The Barrister warned me about roosters making appearances at the Jug. However, I hadn’t fully experienced a sighting.

Of course, that ended moments later.

Another rooster appeared as I turned the corner towards the bar’s entrance; crowing and clucking its head like Mick Jagger.

Oddly enough, I had walked roughly 200 feet and stumbled across two roosters.

Game-time approached and I saddled up to the bar in weary fashion, clutching a water.

You know what’s just as disconcerting as listening to two roosters crowing? If you guessed watching the Eagles offense, you’re correct.

Once again, the Eagles put forth another laborious effort. This time, the struggling Detroit Lions served as the opposition.

As I tried to mash through a BBQ pulled pork sandwich and potato chips, the Eagles and Lions  put on a first half display of offensive ineptitude.

The audience on hand was quiet and in sleepy mode just like me. Any Michael Vick incomplete pass was met with cries for backup quarterback Nick Foles.

By halftime, the Eagles earned a meager 7-6 lead.

Keeping me entertained throughout the first half was a group of old-timers, who pensively watched the game from their stools.

A few of the discussions between the group ranged from common to absurd.

Original Gangsta #1: “Hey Ed!…Ed, you look terrible!”

Another discussion revolved around a husband and wife, who had an emotional and physical dispute days earlier.

The husband struck his wife during the argument. The woman dusted herself off, rose to her feet, and decked her husband to show him who was the real boss of the house.

These are the conversations that take place at bars. They’re somewhat illogical, probably somewhat fabricated, but yet very much enjoyable to hear.

The real star of the group proved to be a clown wearing a New York Yankees jersey and baseball cap.

He wasn’t wearing a regular Yankees cap featuring the interlocking NY. Instead, he wore a cap that simply read “New York John.”

He didn’t add any significant discourse to the bunch but the mere fact that this 60-year-old guy was wearing a Yankees jersey and a “New York John” cap hours after Derek Jeter met his untimely demise ranked as one of the more hysterical things from the weekend.

It didn’t appear he had any rooting interest in the Eagles game. He seemed to be at a cross between being shell-shock and awaiting Game 2 of the ALCS against Detroit.

As for Detroit’s other team, the Lions fell behind Philly 23-13 in the fourth quarter after Jeremy Maclin’s 70-yard touchdown reception.

Philadelphia was on its way to a 4-2 record and in turn soon to cause Eagles fans to get back into the groove for a solid season.

The cheers and enthusiasm over an Eagles win soon dissipated. Matthew Stafford and friends led a remarkable fourth quarter surge that tied the game at 23.

Eventually, Detroit won it in overtime, 26-23.

Alas, as Philly’s near four-hour overtime odyssey culminated, it brought about similar feelings regarding all of their losses during 2012.

Something is broken in Eagles fans. The consensus reaction to their losses is becoming more apathetic with each passing week.

Fans almost expect the team to fail at every turn.

In fact, it really took away from the experience at the Jug. I found the fans to be sleepy, unenthused, and bored.

Or perhaps that rooster was a part of a grand scheme that bred conservatism while watching football.

For me, the Eagles drained whatever energy I had left from the weekend’s festivities.

A few particles of a chipped tooth, along with an Eagles OT loss later, and the 3-3 Birds’ season was already in danger.

Well, at least my friends got hitched and I slept in a comfy bed. At least I had that going for me.


PROGRAMMING NOTE: No Dynasty Tracker next week due to the Eagles bye. However, it’ll return in two weeks as you’ll get a chance to jump inside the mind of one of my other football-watching constituents, who despises Atlanta Falcons Football. It’ll be worth the wait. 

2 replies »

  1. “scarfing down some glutten-free popcorn.”

    Dude, really? I don’t know where to begin. The use of the word ‘scarfing’ when juxtaposed with something as dainty as glutten-free popcorn is just…I dunno. There’s a word for it, and it begins with a capital ‘G’.

    I did enjoy the rooster/Jagger comparison, however. GRRRRRRRRRR

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