Now that I have been on this good Earth for more than six decades, I've started to think about realigning some of the priorities in my life.
No, I'm not talking about chucking it all and sitting on the beach for a month (not that I wouldn't love to do it!). And I'm not contemplating quitting my job, or how much time I spend in the office staring at these computer screens.
I'm talking about the really important stuff.
Like sports.
Maybe it hit me when I looked at the obit for Sixers great Moses Malone and realized he was the same age as I am. When did we all grow up and become adults? Sports is supposed to be fantasy land, or as those of us who toil in the news side of the newspaper always refer to those who cover games for a living, the comics pages.
Who am I kidding?
Sports is life and death. No one knows that better than I do. And no group better embodies that kind of passion than Eagles fans.
So yes, I was there sitting in front of the tube cursing Chip Kelly Monday night as the Eagles got off to their traditional slow start and their late rally fell short. The result? An opening night loss to the Falcons. Of course, I now no longer simply vent to myself during games. Thanks to the magic of social media, I - and every other ordinary Joe fan with a laptop or tablet _ get to be a color commentator.
Take that, Jon Gruden.
That's right. I know longer simply watch the games. I have to do a running commentary on Twitter.
Luckily, thanks to the money-grubbers who run the NFL squeezing two games into Monday night to kick off the season, the Eagles game started at 7:10. It ended about 10:30. That's considerably past my normal bedtime, but nowhere near the aggravation of prime time games that start at 8 or 9 o'clock.
I surprised myself by managing to stay awake for the entire Eagles opener vs. the Falcons.
My thanks? Another kick in the gut - literally - as Cody Parkey's field goal try that would have tied the game with 2:30 left sailed wide right.
The next morning, I of course tuned in WIP for the ride into work. Once in the office, I cheated, tuning a second radio in my office to SportsTalk so I could listen to the hosts dissect the latest heart-breaking loss for the Birds. I caught Chip Kelly's day-after press conference.
And once again, I was struck by something that has bothered me now for several years. I don't think losing bothers the coaches and players nearly as much as it aggravates the fans. Should an Eagles's loss ruin our day - or even the entire week. Of course not. I'd be lying if I said it doesn't come close to it. I don't think I'm alone.
I have started to wonder about a lifetime of blind Philly sports allegiance, especially when it comes to the Eagles.
I'm beginning to think the Nick Nolte character in "North Dallas Forty" had it right when he told his coach: "Time to put away childish things."
My devotion and zeal for the Eagles certainly borders on the childish. The games affect my mood. They likely affect my family. They know this is serious business. Luckily for them, the kids are now off on their own. My wife now actually joins in the weekly analysis of all things Eagles.
I have for some time believed that living and dying with the Birds is much tougher on fans than it is for the players and coaches. That was again reinforced in watching new Eagles cornerback - who was brought here and paid $63 million to shut down other team's best receivers - chuckling about how he struggled against Falcons star wideout Julio Jones.
But it was really reinforced this morning when I saw a news story that listed the value of NFL franchises.
The Eagles have an estimated value of $2.4 billion. Yes, that is billion, not million.
Jeff Lurie bought the franchise in 1994 for $185 million. Not a bad investment. How is your 401k doing this week?
And that only makes the Eagles the 9th most valuable NFL team. This week's hated foes, the Dallas Cowboys, top the list with an estimated value of $4 billion.
I don't doubt that Lurie, Chip Kelly and the players all want to bring a Super Bowl championship to Philly. We've been waiting since 1960. That's a lot of years watching Pete Liske, Norm Snead, Jack Concannon and a host of others fail to bring us what we so desperately want - an Eagles parade.
Actually, I shouldn't hold it against those players from the earlier eras. They did not make what their peers in the league do today.
I'm still ticked about the Eagles' performance Monday night.
No doubt Lurie et al are as well.
And they're talking about it all the way to the bank. Me? I'm back staring at this screen, cursing my fate in life.
I'm an Eagles fan.
Time to put away childish things? Sure, maybe next year.
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