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. Our latest edition finds Armageddon upon us.
Week 9: Carolina Blue – Pitman, NJ
The Scene: Welp, all of that talk of a parade down Broad Street; meeting with President Obama; breaking bread with the Pope; going to the club with Jay-Z and B; and driving around in a mayonnaise colored Mercedes Benz is over.
Menu: Pulled Chicken sandwich with kettle fries. As you can tell, I dig chicken.
Game: Dallas at Philadelphia. Board up your homes and attempt to fireproof your car.
When I ventured out towards a bar on Sunday, I arrived to the proverbial fork in the road (0therwise known as Route 55 in South Jersey). For a few fleeting moments, I had this grandiose idea of driving to Philly and to feel the fury of a potential Eagles loss to the Cowboys on Sunday.
Nope. Not falling it.
I had a nagging feeling I was heading to the equivalent of a football funeral. Even if the Eagles won, it would be a hollow victory. At this point, beating the Cowboys, who are a shell of their former great selves, Thus, instead of heading straight through a light and veering right towards Philly, I turned left to make my way towards the quiet town of Pitman, NJ.
Quiet was an understatement for what I walked into Carolina Blue. I made a beeline for the bar. Two older gentlemen sipping on mixed drinks while glued to the game on a giant projection screen.
Across from them appeared to be the always awkward mother/daughter/daughter’s boyfriend trio, which ups the ante for fun people watching.
For example, Mom was pushing 60 years old and a frumpy-looking blonde with glasses. Her topic of choice? Gambling lines with the bartender. She was laying bread on a few games and vented about them.
Let’s just say the New England Patriots are on her bad list after phoning it on Sunday and narrowly getting by the Buffalo Bills.
She was a lovable figure with her smoker’s voice and grouchy disposition…until IT happened.
The “IT” represents Michael Vick’s concussion that caused him to leave Sunday’s game against Dallas and finally bringing us to the opening leg of the Nick Foles regime in Philadelphia.
I don’t remember her response word for word but it sounded something like this…
“AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW MICHAEL VICK’S HURT…AWWWWWWWWW.”
Hey lady, put the phone down and hang up on your bookie. Let’s get something straight. I abide by many football rules including:
- NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER ROOT FOR YOUR STARTING QUARTERBACK TO SUFFER AN INJURY SO YOU CAN SEE THE BACKUP PLAY. EVER.
Pardon my language but when in the hell has that ever worked out in Eagles history?
Eagles aside, it just wards on bad karma in my opinion and the Eagles fan base probably has enough of that banked in reserve at this point.
Alas, we got a eyeful of Nick Foles on Sunday, who helped the Eagles grab a 14-10 lead in the third quarter.
My momentary happiness was muted by a few things ultimately. First, the Cowboys eventually wrestled a lead from the Eagles by the end of the third quarter.
Secondly, two guys and their wives sauntered up to the bar after some sort of social event, decked out in suits and dresses all around.
That’s cool. However, I had two problems.
- If there are 15 open seats at the bar and you’re only half paying attention to the game, don’t sit next to me please. I’m in the zone.
- If you’re going to sit next to me, don’t order a chardonnay and a coffee. Come on now.
- One member of your party is hammered. In fact, he’s so drunk his speech is badly slurred. The last place you need to be is at a bar dude.
For the purposes of this story, we’ll refer to our drunken friend as Bob’s Big Boy. BBB and his buddy Shane (I have no idea about his real name but I’m guessing it was this) were telling engagement stories in between paying attention during the Foles drives.
I have a few rules while watching NFL games regarding unacceptable topics for discussion:
- Engagement stories. Look, I’m here to watch two teams beat each other into submission for a victory. I’m not interested in how you put a $10,000 diamond ring in a box of Kellogg’s Raisin Bran while I’m watching DeSean Jackson run nine routes. Thanks, but I’ll pass.
- Adoption. Too heavy.
- Surrogate mothers. I mean, why are we at a bar talking about this ladies?
The quartet managed to hit on these three topics. Actually, BBB provided some depth regarding his engagement tale. When he approached his current wife, his response was entertaining but yet disturbing.
“If you don’t say yes, I’ll throw you in the water and they’ll need to find your body.”
While being questioned about one of his other friends later, BBB had a quick response for his wife.
“I don’t ask questions. I drink beer.”
We got the message, loud and clear sir.
While these four set back social functions by 20 years, the Cowboys rolled up the Eagles by scoring 28 of the game’s final 34 points in the fourth quarter.
The Dallas run goes from a Dez Bryant TD catch to a punt return TD and two defensive touchdowns.
Late in the fourth quarter, BBB and the rest of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse headed out of the bar and so did any hopes of the Eagles resuscitating their 2012 season.
Good riddance to both.
FINAL: COWBOYS 38, EAGLES 23