Players aren’t only ones dealing with Super Bowl hangover
A funny thing happened Monday morning.
Life went on.
Believe me, there was a time when I wondered if that would always be the case after an excruciating Eagles’ loss.
Yes, the Eagles lost their first game of the season Sunday, falling behind the Tampa Bay Buccaneers on the very first play of the game. Rubbing salt in the wound was that Ryan Fitzpatrick floated that bomb to none other than our old friend DeSean Jackson, who was running free down the middle of the field. Jackson, sent packing by Chip Kelly a few years back and still obviously carrying a grudge for the way his Eagles’ career ended, eluded one tackler and happily danced into the end zone.
And on the suddenly distant memory of that glorious day last February when the Eagles put more than a century of frustration in the rear-view mirror by finally winning a Super Bowl.
The players aren’t the only ones suffering a hangover.
Actually, I had expected to write this piece last week.
This is what a Super Bowl hangover looks like.
The Eagles did not impress me at any point in the preseason.
They did even less in their opener against the Falcons, but somehow escaped with a win.
On Sunday, a lot of things caught up with the Birds. They still do not have Carson Wentz. Nick Foles, the Super Bowl MVP, still has a tendency to look incredibly pedestrian. They have been rocked by other injuries, especially on offense, where Foles has precious few weapons at wide receiver and running back.
Then you can add in Doug Pederson, who for some reason decided to take a page out of the Andy Reid playbook, looking for all intent and purpose like he was trying to run out the clock toward the end of the game when the Eagles needed two scores.
There was a time when that type of desultory Eagles’ performance, one its patient fans had seen innumerable times over the decades, would have resulted in at least one - if not several - temper tantrums. Lots of screaming at the TV. The wife and kids tiptoeing gingerly around my volcanic eruptions.
Which is why I found it a bit disconcerting at one point in the third quarter Sunday to realize I had been dead asleep for about 15 minutes.
Maybe I’m just old.
After the game, I stuck with my Sunday routine. I flipped on Comcast to see what my buddy Ray Didinger had to say in the post mortem of the game on Eagles Post Game Live.
The thing that has always struck me about the Eagles is that the talk radio and next day’s papers were always more interesting when the Birds lose.
Everyone would chime in on what they did wrong and how to fix it.
Sunday was different. Maybe this is what winning a Super Bowl does to you.
It’s a little bit reminiscent of the 2008 Phillies. You’ll wait a long time for me to complain about Utley, Rollins, Howard, Hamels, Manuel and the rest. The answer is simple. They gave us a parade.
So did last year’s Birds. After 52 years, they finally won a Super Bowl. And gave us a parade to remember.
We’re still dealing with the hangover.
So, apparently is the team. But here’s an even more troubling thought.
So what?
It was a gorgeous Sunday afternoon.
I actually thought seriously about doing something I never would have considered just a few years ago. Hell, even last year.
That would be skipping the game. Or at least DVRing it and watching it later.
Going outside to enjoy a beautiful day. Maybe even going to the driving range to see if that next bucket contains the secret to taming my nasty hook off the tee.
Instead, I again found myself asking myself why I was spending the day in front of the TV. But caring a lot less about it than I once did. I guess old habits die hard. My intentions were good. I even posted a few tweets during the first half.
It didn’t take long for things to go south.
That happened on the first play of the game, when Fitzpatrick connected with Jackson for a 75-yard touchdown.
I have no idea what the defense was doing most of the day. They got some good pressure early, then seemed to take the rest of the day off.
I’m only slightly less thrilled with what Doug Pederson is trying to do with this banged-up offense.
A couple of caveats: The Birds’ record after Week 2 last year? 1-1. Same as this year.
There is one sure cure for this particular Super Bowl hangover.
I’m banking on Pederson strolling up to the microphones at his Monday press conference and announcing Carson Wentz will be his starting QB next Sunday at the Linc vs. the Colts.
That’s what I was hinting at on Monday’s front page, with that ‘Passing the Buc’ front page. Possible front for tomorrow: ‘Heeeeeeeeere’s Carson!’ And guess what. I’ll probably be right back in front of the TV next Sunday.
Yeah, old habits die hard.