I often hit a bar on Sunday afternoons. No, I'm still sober. I have no TV and go there so I can watch the Philadelphia Eagles. But not this year. I'm boycotting them. Not because Authoritarian Donald Trump tells me to, but because I'm a jinx. Just as I'm often the kiss of death when I predict victory for a politician, I've noticed that the Eagles tend to lose games that I watch. Even if I just listen to Merrill Reese's always-entertaining play-by-play, they lose. So I stopped watching or listening. Since that time, the Eagles have been undefeated.
This is killing me.
If they suddenly start losing, you'll know why.
While I'm here, I might as well share my top Eagles memory. It has nothing to do with the on-field action.
I went on a bus trip to see them play the Redskins many years ago. My son and daughter were with me, too. So were a neighbor and his kids.
Today, our kids would be taken away from us.
That was the very first time they were having Magistrate's Court right at the Vet stadium, back in 1988. . There had been sixty fist fights at just one game, one Eagles fan shot a flare gun and some guys were urinating in sinks. Future Supreme Court Justice Seamus McCaffery brought Eagles Court to restore the rule of law.
Well, the crime problem likely was the result of everyone sneaking in all kinds of booze. Inside shirts, jackets, pockets. They even loaded up little kids with Miller Lite, just like drug mules. Because I was no longer drinking, I was viewed as a beer distributor, and was weighted down with so many cans that I could barely walk.
No metal detectors or wands back then. We showed them our ticket and we were in,even though a can fell out as I walked by.
My son and his best friend loved the scalpers and would return in later years and figure out ways to get in for free.
As we sat there, some obviously-loaded guy in front of us got up and was yelling about this and that play. The young daughters who were with us were unable to see, and I asked the fellow to sit down.
"Fuck you!" was his answer.
Then he complained that our group had cans of illegal alcohol all over the place, which we did. A security guys came and said, "I don't see anything" even though one of my friends was holding a can.
A few minutes later, our adversary pulled out some of the things that he had smuggled into the stadium himself. This included a six-pack and a hoagie that looked very good. Then he pulled out a knife to cut the hoagie in half so he could share it with his wife, who seemed like a very nice lady.
"Oh my God, he's got a knife!" I shouted. "There are children here!"
Let me tell you, within about three seconds, security people were dragging this guy away. They came from everywhere. Some of them actually jumped up from the playing field and hauled this poor guy off to Seamus McCaffery's court. His wife and the knife went with him, too.
That left the hoagie, which I ate.
The guy and his wife did return to their seats late in the fourth quarter, minus the knife. Judge McCaffery apparently decided the matter lacked prosecutorial merit. The guy did apologize for his foul language to me and the young ladies who were with us.
In exchange, he and his wife were offered a beer.
Fortunately, he never asked about the hoagie.