Best Cowboy Fan Ever: From an Eagles Fan Viewpoint
First, a couple of notes for my six regular readers.
One, you’ve probably heard this story, but it was requested in blog form from the teeming masses on Twitter (read: two people).
Two, I am typing and posting this from my phone. That is INSANE.
In 2005, the Eagles went to the Super Bowl in Jacksonville where they lost to the New England Lying Cheating Scumbags. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about my nephew, James.
The world’s greatest Cowboys fan.
James and I made the trip to Jacksonville on Friday night. Since Jacksonville has approximately 5 hotels, we stayed in Savannah, GA, a two hour drive from the game. But we didn’t care.
We were going to the Super Bowl.
James was 15 at the time and a die hard Cowboys fan. He knows his stuff and is realistic about his team.
But for 72 glorious hours, he was one of us.
Oh, he’ll deny it. But everything that follows is true.
There was an Eagles pep rally on Saturday at a place called Jacksonville Landing. It’s designed to hold about 500 people, so, naturally, it was chosen, by some genius, as the site to inflame the passions of Philadelphia Eagles fans.
There were about 3000 of us jammed into this spot. I was wearing a McNabb jersey. James was wearing a Westbrook jersey.
The rally was scheduled to start at 7:30. We got there around 4:00. The place was packed by 5:00. Filled with bars, there were 3000 drunken Birds fans working themselves into a frenzy.
Inevitably the “Dallas Sucks” chants start. I asked the guy next to me why we were chanting “Dallas Sucks” if we were playing New England.
Filled with rage, he replied, “BECAUSE THEY DO! DALLAS SUCKS! DALLAS SUCKS!”
Laughing, I turned to James and nearly choked on my 23rd beer.
Because he’s chanting “DALLAS SUCKS! DALLAS SUCKS!”
I check to make sure he hasn’t been sneaking beer while I wasn’t looking.
Incredulously, I ask him, “Why are you chanting ‘Dallas Sucks?'”
“Do I look stupid? DALLAS SUCKS!”
It gets better.
Later, some moron tries to make his way through the crowd wearing a Tom Brady jersey.
Of course, he was immediately serenaded with chants of “(SEVEN LETTER WORD THAT RHYMES WITH GLASS BOWL), (SEVEN LETTER WORD THAT RHYMES WITH GLASS BOWL)!”
In classic Philly style, this was done with the guy’s 2 year old son on his shoulders.
In a little Brady jersey.
What happened next was not chronicled anywhere but here. But it belongs in the same legendary pantheon as booing Santa, the now-Governor/then city councilman throwing iceballs at Jimmy Johnson, vomiting on a little girl, stealing an opposing reporters license plate and “Don’t taze me, bro.”
I turn to the same guy as before and say, “Come on, man, he’s got his kid with him.”
Even drunker, and, if possible, angrier, he says, I swear to God, “HE NEEDS TO LEARN EARLY! LITTLE (SEVEN LETTER WORD THAT RHYMES WITH GLASS BOWL)! LITTLE (SEVEN LETTER WORD THAT RHYMES WITH GLASS BOWL)!”
So I joined him. As did James. And the rest of the crowd.
At full throat.
For a full ten minutes.
I have rarely been prouder to be an Eagles fan.
Now, look, I’m not necessarily a “blame the victim” kinda dude. But why – WHY – would you bring you kid into a situation like that?
Anyway, at the game, James wore the McNabb jersey and I wore a Cunningham jersey, and, of course, the cheesesteak hat. The guy behind asked me to take it off so he could see, but I just laughed at him. And of course, every time the Birds scored a touchdown, we all sang “Fly, Eagles, Fly.”
Including James, who, for 72 hours, was one of us. If you had cut him that weekend, he would have bled midnight green.
Which makes him the greatest Cowboys fan ever.