Gonzo: Yes, it really was that easy
Ever go to Atlantic City to play craps and, before you even see a cocktail waitress, watch the entire table go on a run when no one rolls bad dice? It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's fantastic - everyone smiling, laughing, high-fiving.
Ever go to Atlantic City to play craps and, before you even see a cocktail waitress, watch the entire table go on a run when no one rolls bad dice? It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's fantastic - everyone smiling, laughing, high-fiving.
That's what yesterday felt like. It had that kind of energy.
It was all a little hard to believe, frankly. Who thought, in their deepest delusions, the Eagles would start that hot? Who thought they'd roll all those 7s and 11s?
At one point - as Donovan McNabb was cruising toward some truly freakish first-half stats; after he had connected on big plays to DeSean Jackson, Greg Lewis and Jason Avant; after he had thrown touchdowns to Brian Westbrook and L.J. Smith - my buddy turned and asked, "Is it a holiday we didn't know about?"
No talk about clock mismanagement or underthrown balls. No obsessing over why the defense couldn't stop Steven Jackson. No typical first-game concerns. Just a 38-3 win - the biggest margin of victory in a season opener for the Birds. It was a gift.
Toward the end of the first half, someone jokingly asked why Hank Baskett hadn't been part of the outrageous offensive output. Moments later, Baskett caught a long pass for a touchdown. It was all so bizarre. Three Eagles with 100 yards receiving (Jackson, Baskett and Lewis). One alone would have made the town twitter.
Even Tony Hunt punched in a score. So many people were involved, I kept waiting for Merrill Reese to call Mike Quick's number.
This will put a finer point on how unexpected and satisfying yesterday was for Eagles fans: Each time Lewis caught a pass, my pal Wax cried Glew. Normally, when we call him that it's sarcastic - as in, his nickname should be Glew because he could use some on his hands.
Eagles fans, happy and cheering Glew. It really was like a holiday.
Up
-- This is the kind of day DeSean Jackson had: When I got a text from my friend saying "best Eagles draft pick since Westbrook or McNabb," it didn't sound all that absurd. What are the odds of a rookie, and a receiver no less, having a first game like that for this team?
-- McNabb had a cartoonish afternoon. Loved how he did "the shooter" - index fingers and thumbs extended like guns - after throwing a touchdown to Smith. Big fan of "the shooter" as far as touchdown celebrations go.
His gaudy stats were bittersweet, though. McNabb played against my fantasy squad. I'm not sure whom he clobbered more - me or the Rams.
-- I don't care that Steven Jackson popped up to his feet after Sheldon Brown cracked him. That hit had to hurt. The sound of the collision alone was agonizing.
Down
-- Did anyone else wonder why Fox color analyst Daryl Johnston laid into Smith? Yeah, Smith dropped a couple of passes near the goal line, but the game was a blowout. And it wasn't like Smith played poorly before that.
Moose seemed like he was in a bad mood. Before the half, with the Birds leading 14-0, he admonished Philly for not winning by a greater margin. "I'm starting to get concerned about the Eagles," he said. "They're letting the Rams stay in this game."
Good call, Daryl. You're a regular Emmitt Smith in front of the camera.
Good, bad
Bad news: No one wins a trophy after one game. Good news: Could there possibly be a better time to have the Dallas Cowboys on deck?
If you flipped over to the first game of the Phillies-Mets doubleheader as the Birds went to halftime, you didn't have to come down from your high. An early lead gave way to a 6-2 Phils win - how pleasant.
Sure, it would have been better if the Phils had won the nightcap and completed the sweep (of the series and the day). But the evening loss didn't wipe way the afternoon delight. Two out of three isn't bad.
At least in the early game, the Phils fans at Shea appeared to be having grand time. (And why not? We're always so hospitable when Mets fans visit South Philly.) Right before the Phils locked up the victory, one good Philadelphian made himself plainly heard on the CW57 broadcast: "Larry Andersen . . . woooo!" he cried merrily.
Woo, indeed, Larry Andersen. Woo, indeed.
The Canadians are vile people. Yesterday, in a gesture that can only be taken as an act of war, the Toronto Blue Jays gave figurines to the first 10,000 fans through the turnstiles. Not so offensive, right? Except the freebie featured Joe Carter - arms raised - in a replica of the nauseating moment when he hit that homer off Mitch Williams to win the '93 World Series.
So very nice of Toronto to commemorate the day my childhood died.
Another slight like this, and we should dispatch Buffalo to invade. Conquer the whole country in under an hour. Melt all the hockey ice. Burn all the maple leaves (and maybe all the Maple Leafs, too).
And what will you be left with then, Canada? Nothing but a grossly inferior brand of football and Corey Haim. Tread lightly, eh?
Planet Gonzo
During the Eagles game, did you catch the promos for the new FX series
Sons of Anarchy
? Quick synopsis: Bikers, death, mayhem. Definitely in. . . . Watched
Hole in the Wall
on Fox last night. QS: Large people literally try to fit through a small hole in the wall. First someone had to come up with that, then someone else had to approve it. Geniuses, both. . . . Is there anything better than listening to Merrill Reese call an Eagles touchdown?