“Holy S#!%, we WON,” I screamed while running around my apartment, nearly knocking over a lamp and coming dangerously close to crushing a bookcase.

That was the scene in my house this past Monday night when the Philadelphia Eagles beat the Indianapolis Colts.  My excitement and love for my football team knows no bounds and Monday night provided another example of the lunacy that many Philadelphia Eagles fans experience on any given Sunday, Monday, or Thursday night.  Though some may call it cliched, football is my escape and has been for many years.

Just about a month ago, I lost my job as an Academic Coordinator due to budget cuts.  Like a recycled Hollywood movie plot, the scenario of losing a job and feeling petrified over making ends meet is a story that many people experience.  While I wish I could string together some flowery prose or develop a poignant metaphor to capture my feelings, the best way to sum it up is to come right out and say, “It Sucks!

Each morning I take to the computer and scour the classified websites, hoping that I will find a job that I love and will love me back.  Resume after resume, custom cover letter after custom cover letter, I continue to push forward.  I have to; failure is not an option because I have a family that depends on me and I refuse to fail.  I will, no matter what, do whatever it takes to take care of my family.  I cannot quit because my family depends on me.

That’s when it happened.  Literally moments before the second half kickoff, there I was saying, “I don’t know if I can handle this,” I had one of those epiphanies that I know will stay with me for a long time to come.

I’m not just a Philadelphia Eagles fan, I am the Philadelphia Eagles.  I am in my own proverbial halftime and yes, I am without a doubt, down.  The score does not look pretty and while others may think I do not have a chance in hell of coming back, I still have another half of football to play.  I have to be my own Chip Kelly and adjust during the half.  I cannot be deterred because a play I drew up did not get me the results I wanted.  After all, I still have another half of my life to play.

That is precisely what bleeding green means.  It is the complete and total embodiment of throwing yourself into something that you live for each week.  We all know the labels associated with being a Philadelphia Eagles fan.  If the description of who we are as a fan base was left to outsiders, the painted picture would be eerily similar to the Germanic tribes fighting the Romans in the opening scene of “Gladiator.”

We may beat our chests and scream until we are hoarse, boo players that do not play to their fullest potential, and we are guilty of grandiloquent speech and theory, but damn it, we bleed green.  Our wounds are deep but the devotion to our team runs deeper.  We are football maniacs in the moment and football scholars-in-training after the game.  We clamber to our televisions and radios in order to hear the profound words of Ray Didinger, the Socrates of Philadelphia Football.  The presets on our car radios are set for sports talk radio.  The jerseys of players in our closets run like a timeline found in history books.  The stories we tell our children about that one game, that one play or that one season is a bond that should not, will not and cannot be taken lightly.

I bleed green because the Philadelphia Eagles are my family.  While I certainly did not cry the same way I did when my Dad passed away, I felt equally as empty and directionless when Brian Dawkins left the Eagles and signed with the Denver Broncos.  I’ve given family second chances after they’ve done truly terrible things; reminiscent of accepting Michael Vick into our football family regardless of the strong opinions I had for him and his actions.  Family, unless they choose to walk away, are your family for life.

Undeniable are the collective wounds we wear on the very sleeves we wear our hearts; however, the Philadelphia Eagles are the wellspring of this city’s passion.  Passion is paramount to being a fan.  Some may question how being a Philadelphia Eagles fan is different than being a fan of any other team.  The answer is quite simple: ferocity.  If we fall behind, we will fight to reclaim what is rightfully ours.

I learned through my love for the Philadelphia Eagles that although I may be down at the half, I still have another half to come back and claim my victory.  Thank you, Philadelphia Eagles; not only have you given me something to cheer about, you’ve taught me that hope is a series of unrelenting pursuits driven by the idea that we can never give up.


Do I really need a website?  Yes, the pure and simple answer is “Yes.”  It’s not that I don’t want to build a site, it’s not that I don’t want to interact with people, it’s that I don’t have the patience or the knowledge to make a website that is easy to use.  I feel like a derelict but I will push through.

Comedian Chris Smith provides teaser for DVD release….

Comedian Chris Smith talks about giving his penis a pep talk; also reminded by the audience that the Irish have small…well, you know.


Video  —  Posted: August 18, 2013 in Uncategorized
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Cheesesteaks, soft pretzels, the Liberty Bell, Rocky (and his statue), Tastykakes, and the list of all things Philadelphia goes on and on.  Say Philadelphia to an outsider and the response is often mixed; one might say the attitude towards Philadelphia and all of its citizens is similar to the attitude that Philadelphians are reported to display at sporting events.  Reportedly, christenings, wakes, graduations, and the birth of a child are all met with the same type of fanfare.   We are, for all intents and purposes, troglodytes that drag our knuckles along Broad Street.  Perception, especially to a national media, is reality.

Sadly, many Philadelphia Eagles fans are anxious and nervous, waiting on the edges of our beds like Christmas morning, waiting to see what Santa Lurie will bring us.  Many of us are relieved in Andy’s removal as head coach.  Many of us would break down each play of an Eagles game, bringing no more and no less than a high school and maybe a college level playing experience to our analysis.  Sure, not all of us can boast an Al Bundy highlight reel of football memories; however, many of us can recall specific plays from the last fourteen years that excite and dismay us all.  Philadelphia will not be relegated to the basement of the NFL; we have a hallowed history that, yes, we know, has no Super Bowl wins, but it is filled with names that send our fathers and grandfathers reeling, spitting out long narratives that feel almost Dickensian.  Van Brocklin, Concrete Cha’lie, Reggie White, Mike Quick, Scramblin’ Randall and the stories grow and grow.

As Andy Reid moves on, the real fan, the humanist fan that cringes when his or her favorite player doesn’t get up after a hit or wells up at the news that the coach of their Philadelphia Eagles just lost his son, Philadelphia Eagles fans will reminisce.  Sure, we all can recall Ronde Barber intercepting the football for a touchdown in the NFC Championship game and wanting to cry the same way I did when Joe Carter crushed that home run in the World Series.  I can also recall an onside kick in Dallas that sent shock waves through Philadelphia or the frozen tears I shed at the Linc when I watched Brian Dawkins hoist the NFC Championship trophy over his head and proclaim, “We’re going to the Super Bowl!”

I am glad that we let Andy go.  We are all, in some way or another, relieved that the last few seasons of desperation and marginal play can be put behind us if only for a short while.  The next coach will take the reigns of a football team that is supported by a fan base that is both ravenous and football savvy.  We may not all be football scholars; Ray Didingers if you will. However, we are informed fans that recognize that the coach with the most wins in Philadelphia Eagles history had the wherewithal to bring in coordinators like Jim Harbaugh and the late, great Jim Johnson.  His victories and defeats are not highlighted only in his win, loss, and if you can believe it, tie categories, but the victories and defeats are laid out in the minds of Philadelphia Eagles fans that know the nuances of the game and its team.

Andy will not be missed the way Brian Dawkins or Reggie White was missed.  He will, as time goes on, take his place in the Philadelphia sports pantheon of good or great (remember, perception is reality) coaches.  Andy, you will be missed but I assure you it will not be in the near future.  If anyone needs a quote for what Philadelphia sports fans are beyond the twisted truth of hurling snowballs at Santa, remember that if a person states that they bleed Eagles green, then it is not hyperbole, it is not an embellishment, it is as factual as any statistic or fact already established throughout history.  Philadelphia is and will always be a city that loves its Philadelphia Eagles.  And Andy, we do in fact, bid you adieu!

I suspect at this point, everyone has tucked away their secret New Years Resolutions and have embraced those resolutions that everyone expects to hear.  Lose weight, stop smoking, break an annoying habit, meditate, spend more time with your family, and the list goes on and on and on and…well, you get it!

The real NYR’s (New Years Resolution) as I like to call them are the kind we rarely share with people.  If you are in the minority, the individuals that have never made a secret NYR, then you are in for a tremendous treat.  Secret “Resolutions” are predicated upon the deplorable things that we’ve done more than once throughout the year.  For instance, perhaps you are or know someone that waited tables for three weeks in college, which makes you a renowned authority on waiting.  You then take it upon yourself to leave a 0% tip because your meal wasn’t cooked to your liking.  (For the record, don’t be a dick; the waiter doesn’t make the meal, they merely bring it to your unappreciative ass!)  You or someone you know leaves no tip on principle; in reality, you are pretty much an overindulgent sub-par human being.  The Secret NYR allows you to keep from perpetuating said offense and no one else is the wiser.  Would you really want to go into work on Tuesday and let everyone know you’re working hard towards not being a stingy prick?

The loose moral’ed individual may be resolute in abstaining from as many ding-dongs or vajayjays as the year past.  Committed to finding that special someone instead of always banging people, this person wraps up their horny ways and does a really good job until Valentine’s Day and we all know that person that come hell or high water will not be alone on V-Day.  There’s the greasy haired, extra shmedium shirt wearing, spray on tan guy that winks at every woman he meets.  After a night of Jager bombs and falling on a few “grenades” for his buddies, this lovable meat head makes his Secret NYR and realizes very quickly that abstinence is not only hard to actually do, it’s “like, a really super hard word to spell and stuff!”

Those that don’t make this list are those that abuse heavy drugs (i.e. crack, meth, heroin, Flinstone’s vitamins) and vow to quit.  You cannot take a crackhead seriously on December 31st as he stands with his glass dick in his hand, stretched high towards the Gods and proclaims, “I will quit you, crack….”  Are we really taking this person seriously?  Of course not, he’ll quick smoke whatever crack residue resides inside the pipe, pass out, and wake up on New Year’s Day and forget about his valiant moment.

I applaud those truly committed to their Secret NYR’s.  However, I cannot cosign on someone’s Secret NYR that involves luck and some odds that are worse than getting struck by lightning.  Every year I vow that I will never curse while watching a Philadelphia Eagles game.  I recognize that is foolish as I find myself cursing minutes after the Draft.  You cannot resolve yourself to winning the lottery.  If that were the case, I’d already live in a mansion in the south of France with spider monkeys that serve me and I ride into town on the back of an Albino Bengal Tiger.  What, you think I haven’t thought about this?  If I could will this, I certainly wouldn’t be writing this now, now would I?

Secret NYR’s require not only a commitment to change, they require practicality!  Who wants to make a Resolution to do something they know they’ll never be able to do?  You don’t see Weeman from Jackass working on his crossover so he can get better at basketball, do you?  Kat Williams won’t be making any Secret NYR’s that involve him trying to act a little crazier and a little more reckless, right?  The Secret NYR is really about mind f’ing you to the point that you will give up on life.  It comes as a way to keep you down because in your head you’re trying to change the essence of you!  Who cares if you randomly ride dick?  (Are you wrapping it up?  Yeah?  Go nuts!)  Should we vow to change ourselves completely or should our resolution be to accept ourselves and no matter what, recognize that once January 1st arrives, we have merely 365 days to make each one of those days count!  Happy New Years

No Mas, Jesus!

Posted: December 17, 2012 in Uncategorized

The tragedy that occurred in Newtown, Connecticut this past Friday created a groundswell of visceral responses for so many contemporary issues.  Those that believe in gun control found their way to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Yelp, and any other social media platform that I am unaware of at this time and let the world know exactly how how they felt.  Second Amendment supporters retaliated, reminding us all that “guns don’t kill people, people kill people!”  Holy rollers rolled like they’ve never rolled before.  “It’s the prayer that’s missing!” The election is over and Americans have found a way to dispatch their political and religious ideologies onto the masses again.  Welcome to America!

Is anyone discussing viable ways to keep Friday’s events from happening again?  Is there even a real way to keep children safe in school?  What’s most amazing to me is that the United States has in its own borders countless schools that are unsafe every day that school is in session.  Yet, people are pretty sure that it’s the lack of Jesus that allows situations like this to occur.  

Whatever happened to social responsibility and people delivering their outrage with the intention of creating viable change?  It’s not about change; sadly, we live in a country where it is all about agenda.  Watching CNN, MSNBC, and FoxNews reminded me of one specific fact:  the story is more important than those that make up the story.  The act has superseded the individual and the consumer of news has allowed this to occur.

Computer chair bosses, the ones that man the helm of their computers, feverishly type out responses to Facebook chatter in order to make themselves relevant.  Strippers with two years of community college under their belt are preparing their doctoral thesis in explaining how mental health care is really to blame.  And there it is…we must find someone or something to blame.

If you want to hunt, go hunt.  Unless you and your friends plan on hunting well supplied ex-Marine deer that have access to a weapons cache reminiscent of the Vietnam war, your rifle does not need to be automatic.  Case closed and no, I don’t care to listen to your argument.  I don’t think our gun laws allowed Friday’s massacre to occur.  Instead, I believe a crazy bastard with access to guns that need not be made for public use has something to do with what happened on Friday.

I don’t think children forced to pray because some lunatic with an unhealthy “Leave it to Beaver” irreverence is much of a solution either.  When I hear people say things like, “If people had better access to the Lord, we’d be a better Nation.”  No, no we would not.  

There’s no need to argue about whether God is good or God is bad.  You don’t need prayer time in school.  If you don’t believe me, ask yourself if saying the Pledge of Allegiance made you a better Patriot?  

We should embark on a journey of spiritualism; defining who we are as we seek out the opportunity to hold others pain if only for a brief moment.  I don’t need to refer to scripture to prove my worth as an individual.  I’m no less and no more of an American if I believe we should limit the types of guns accessible to the common person and I am no more and no less of a good man if I choose to adopt the tenets of Christ the man and live as a man myself.