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The Eagles play the Cardinals Thanksgiving night, inspiring this columnist to sublime poetry.
In the midst of the economic downturn and all that implies,
Our Thanksgiving is still bright because the Eagle flies.
We go down to the Linc about a quarter to three,
‘Cause there’s nothing quite like a tailgate party.
We’ll toss a ball around and knock down some brew,
Send up an Eagles chant and have another one or two.
It’s windy and cold, but our spirits are high;
We’re warmed by roast turkey and Mom’s pumpkin pie.
Our 401(k)s may be dipping out of sight,
But, hey, we got The Birds on Thanksgiving night.
Toward our fellow man, we have lots of good cheer,
Which is cause to celebrate and down another beer.
If we run the table and win our last five,
Our playoff hopes are still alive.
First we’ll beat these bums tonight,
As Brian Westbrook runs to daylight.
A couple of hours later, it’s colder than hell,
The boys and I, we ain’t feelin’ so well.
Our whole perspective has dimmed a bit,
As kickoff approaches, we’re feelin’ like s**t.
We run 15 plays without gaining an inch,
Westbrook is hurt and we’re feeling the pinch.
Andy looks puzzled as his plays go awry,
Donovan is one for 10, my oh my.
The boys and I, we sneak another sip,
And start givin’ the refs a lotta lip.
Where was Dawk on that freakin’ play?
We’re starting to forget it’s Thanksgiving today.
Our run defense is looking mighty sad,
But, hey, the cheerleaders don’t look half-bad.
Our heads are aching, our feet are numb.
How did our quarterback get this dumb?
We’re down at the half, 14-3 —
This team is making a fool out of me.
Somebody sees Eskin, that talk-show mutt,
"You’ve got your head far up Andy Reid’s butt!"
The second half’s no better than the first;
I need another belt to quench my thirst.
Donovan calls time for no apparent reason.
I hate this freakin’ football season.
Why is Greg Lewis still on this team?
Last time LJ caught one was in my dream.
We ain’t got a fullback who can play this game,
The wide receivers are all so stinkin’ lame.
Losing to the Cards is bad enough,
But I gave the points and that’s really tough.
I stand up and yell — it’s all I can do —
I let out one long, loud "BOOOO!!"
My picture is in the papers the very next day,
I am posed in a most unflattering way.
"Here’s a Boo Bird," all the captions say,
Enjoying Thanksgiving a very Philly way.
