Pederson as Philly legend was short-lived
Pederson as Philly legend was a short-lived notion
The Eagles’ championship parade hadn’t snaked as far as Packer Ave., yet already Doug Pederson had descended from a float to work the Broad Street masses. He stopped for photographs, for handshakes, for selfies. He was cheered and congratulated and cheered some more.
It wasn’t scripted. It wasn’t phony. It wasn’t an attempt to be something he was not. It wasn’t a strategic attempt to boost his ego, his image or the status he should have owned for a lifetime. That status: Man of the Philadelphia people, willing to take risks, defiant, an overachiever, now a legend.
A head coach who would stand across the field from Bill Belichick and with a blast of courage that his city would never forget approve throwing a touchdown pass to his backup quarterback to help the Eagles win the whole thing.
For Pederson, the march seemed to just be a beginning. It could have lasted a lifetime. It could have ended with a statue outside the Linc, with his autograph painted on the field, with all Eagles coaches for the rest of time endeavoring to match his achievements. Instead, the march lasted less than three more years, and for one reason ended Monday when Jeffrey Lurie ordered him to take the Charlie Manuel Wawa Bag Walk. That reason: Pederson.
There was no second reason. There didn’t need to be a second reason, not after Pederson allowed his 19th-string quarterback play the final quarter of a close Week 17 game that the NFL had shifted to prime time as something of a postseason play-in game for visiting Washington.
Lurie didn’t say that Monday, when, in a lengthy video conference, he didn’t say much of anything. He’s clever that way, or at least he has been since that whole standard-gold carryon. But when Pederson embarrassed the organization, the city and the NFL with a public disinterest in professionalism, it was over.
“He’s a close friend,” Lurie said. “He’s a family friend. And Doug is family to me. What can I say?”
Didn’t that say enough? Didn’t that say that Lurie had no desire to fire his coach, but that he was out of options? It was not like the last time, when the owner could barely stand the sight of Chip Kelly around the NewsControl Compound for one more hour. Lurie liked Pederson. He appreciated that Pederson helped plop a Lombardi Trophy on his office shelf. But there was a problem growing around his organization, and it was not going to go away until Pederson went away first. The problem: The players had turned on their head coach and, unlike in some other situations, they were not out of order.
The Eagles played hard in their final game. Jim Schwartz, the retiring defensive coordinator, begged them not to allow Washington’s players to waltz around the Linc afterward, rocking NFC East championship ballcaps. The Eagles were out of the playoffs, but they had professional pride.
Then Pederson, who never was very good with calculating time, score and football reality, made them all look foolish, proving he didn’t care if they won, or, as he’d settled for earlier, tied.
“Man if I’m being honest, nobody liked the decision, nobody,” said Miles Sanders on WIP. “That’s all I can say, really. I don’t know who was the main person behind that decision. All I know is that a lot of people on the team were confused.”
There was the predictable segment of the media defending Pederson’s approach, as it would allow the Eagles’ draft position to spike to No. 6 overall. If Pederson could have limited that situation to a press-vs.-coach duel, he could have survived. The public will never choose the media in such a skirmish. But once the players and press were thrown into rare agreement, it was enough of a constituency for Lurie to come out of hiding.
“This is much more about the evaluation
The fractured relationship between head coach Doug Pederson and quarterback Carson Wentz, right, contributed to the coach’s demise.
of the Eagles moving forward,” Lurie said. “It’s not about whether Doug deserved to be let go. No, he didn’t deserve to be let go. That’s not where I’m coming from. And that’s not the bar in the evaluation process.”
That an owner can fire a coach and then say the coach didn’t deserve to be fired is its own level of unfiltered comedy. It’s also proof that Lurie felt he had no choice. He insisted that his decision had nothing to do with the Washington fiasco, that before going into what sounded like a nomination speech for Nate Sudfeld’s Hall of Fame induction. All that was clear was that Lurie didn’t believe Pederson was the right coach for the Eagles as they enter a new era.
Pederson will find his second NFL head coaching job. There won’t be a third. He coaches with courage, but he can’t count. There is no other way to explain his chronic inability to determine when to attempt a two-point conversion, or when to punt instead of running a fourth-down play.
The Eagles have been haunted by injuries. Their recent drafts have been failures. Carson Wentz has undoubtedly regressed, but Pederson, a former quarterback, was not supposed to let that happen. So there are situations, and some other people, who could share the blame for an operation plunging from a world championship to an 11-loss season in three years.
But no one deserved more blame than the coach who once wandered triumphantly into a crowd, yet who walked away Monday without an echo of applause.