Ya Gotta Love a Good Ass Kickin

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL??? Holy shit, what a game. I actually left work early for this one; I knew the Eagles bar would be crowded, after all IT’S DALLAS!! You just don’t miss this game if you’re a die-hard Eagles fan. So I got there nice and early, around 5 pm (game starts @ 6 on the west coast), had me a nice greasy cheesesteak (as close to a REAL ‘Philly’ cheesesteak you can get anywhere outside of Philly), a pint of Coors Light (not really my favorite beer, but it’s cheap and a good ‘bar beer’), put on my black ‘20' Dawkins jersey and I was ready for the game. The usual crowd started trickling in around 5:30, and everyone was fired up, because this is the one (well, of two, since they play Dallas twice a season) game you just don’t miss. By 5:55 everyone was there, even some people you don’t see all that often. The good thing about this group of people is that the age range is very broad - 21 year-olds, 30-somethings like myself, and one guy there was celebrating his 70th birthday. It’s really cool, and no matter what your age is, no matter what you look like, no matter how much money you have or make, you’re instantly accepted and one of the family, no questions asked.

Gametime. The Fun Bunch does the obligatory "first quarter shot." I’m just drinking beer, no shots for me, after all I have to work tomorrow morning (ok, I’m quickly moving into old-wussdom, so sue me). One guy named either Billy or Bob (no, not Billy Bob :op) brought in a big box of Philly soft pretzels his sister had sent to him, so we got out the squeeze bottles of brown mustard and loaded up. We were just beside ourselves. Could it get any better, you ask? Yes, it can and does! In the first quarter, my boy Donovan completes to none other than T.O. for a 59-yard TD. WOOOOOOHOOOOOO! The bar erupts into high-fives, hugs and cheers, and the bartender performs his most important duty: plays the Eagles fight song over the loudspeaker (it’s become a little tradition, every time the Eagles score he plays it, we sing, it’s just sick in so many ways), everyone in the bar screams .....err.... sings it as loud as humanly possible, you can almost feel the ground shaking.



Time for the ‘first quarter draw!’ As a member of the ‘club,’ you get a sweatshirt and a ticket each week for the quarterly drawings for each game. This week’s first quarter prize was this:



I’ve been wanting these forever, and I was sure I was gonna win. But, of course, a guy in his late 40s, who each week brings a week’s worth of newspapers to ‘read’ along with a pile of catch-up paperwork (I have no idea what this guy does for a living, he just kind of showed up one week, but whatever his job is, it can’t be THAT important, can it?), wins a ladies’ thong. The scary part is, he looked pretty excited about winning it. So, he tries to be cool and ‘one of the gang,’ so he puts the thong on his head, over his hat, and walks around like that for the next hour. Can that funny-smelling newspaper ink still get you high? Ya know, like those old ‘copies’ in elementary school that had that, ya know, ‘funky’ smell?

So, the second quarter is a lot like the first, except the crowd is even more fired up than before, it that’s possible. Can you say, ‘second quarter shot’? Well, they can!! Mind you, this is mostly the guys doing the shots (there are normally 3 other women besides me that are ‘fun bunchers’, and we for the most part don’t partake in these quarterly shot-puts, just on occasion, as I’m getting too old for that shit). And they do it well. Sambuka, Jager, Goldschlager, you name it. Between the smell of alcohol and the clouds of cigarette smoke, I’m feeling a bit woosy myself. I can’t believe I ever smoked. After leaving that bar and smelling like grease, smoke and alcohol....... I usually wanna blow chunks. As for the game......... it just keeps getting better. The Birds had just recovered a fumble, which brought about TD #2. We are well on our way to an old fashioned ass kickin, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. Last week’s game was pitiful. Unfortunately, Dallas immediately answered back with a TD of their own. Let’s just say the crowd was not pleased. A couple Eagles jerseys came off to reveal "Dallas Fucking Sucks" t-shirts underneath. Ah..... gotta love my fellow fans :op. But...... alas! McNabb gets fired up again with a 27-yard TD pass to none other than T.O. YES!!! Take that you Dallas fuckers! But wait! There’s more! After a 3 ‘n’ out by the Cowboys, the Birds get the ball back and it’s Pinkston’s turn! Another 59-yard pass for a TD, 28-7!!! Dallas comes back and scores a TD, but we come right back after that and gets another one, so by half time the score is 35-14. I’m horrified of what my blood pressure monitor would read, had I been courageous enough to wear one.

Half time is when the girls run for the bathroom, the guys go out to ‘talk guy stuff’ and smoke their heads off, and things generally calm down for a few minutes. Which is a good thing, we all needed it. I spent my time text messaging my buddy JP, who was out with his friends watching the game. He grew up a Dallas fan, so I had to rub it in repeatedly, and I loved every minute of it. Still love ya JP :op

The second half, unfortunately, wasn’t as eventful. We couldn’t keep up that kind of shenanigans for a whole game, so everyone kind of sat down to catch their breath. Dallas scored a TD to make the score 35-21, but we weren’t worried. We knew this was OUR game, our day, our ass kickin. And it was FUN. Of course, you can never be too tired for the third quarter shot, which the guys managed to get down, but they were having trouble speaking by that point, their remarks were kind of just grunts by then. All that screaming, high-fiving and carrying on really takes it out of you! And so the Birds answered the call with yet another T.O. TD of our own, 42-21. Things kind of leveled off after that, but we did end the game with one more TD, which was an interception that was run back 101 yards. Nice little icing on the cake, dontcha think?

I was hella happy, but tired, smelly and not feeling all that great from all that cigarette smoke, so I left right after the game and drove the ½ on the highway back home. I work with a couple Dallas fans, so I couldn’t wait to get into work today and commence ‘the gloat.’ Ah............. life is good.

This says it all: