A collective groan blanketed the city. You could feel it.
The Eagles led for forty-five minutes. The defense was dominant. McNabb's passes were crisp and flawless. Then the wheels came off the Eagles bandwagon.
My daughter remained optimistic throughout the game. However, my Daddy was concerned with the lack of scoring by the Eagles in the second half. When McNabb was called for offsides, I thought Dad's head would explode. (I am still trying to wrap my brain around that call. Ugh.) After that call, my Dad barked at my Mom to put on her shoes, the game was over. My daughter bellowed, "Pop Pop, you have no faith! There is plenty of time." Dad reminded her how old he was and he just knew. My folks did not leave but as in most cases, parental wisdom was dead on.
In what seemed like a bad recurring dream, the Eagles in a slow painful manner handed the game to the Giants.
The offense was too conservative. What is so wrong with burying an opponent? You will not amass negative Karma. It's football, for God's sake. After this asswhippin' at home, we can only hope that Reid finds the killer instinct required to win a game like this one in my lifetime.
Props to young Eli Manning for running a come-from-behind, no-huddle offense. His play calling and execution elevated him to position of leader on his team.
To add to my misery, the Cowboys beat the Redskins, 27-10. It's going to be a long season.