(I wrote this last week after Trump took part in the turkey pardon…never got around to posting it. Enjoy!)

Every year, while thousands of turkeys are killed for Thanksgiving, the president pardons a turkey of his own to be spared the ax during the holiday season. It’s a delightful piece of pomp and circumstance where children are taught a valuable lesson that the most gorgeous and appealing of us are rewarded, while the rest of us slobs are doomed to live out the rest of our days wallowing in our filth, with only the reprieve of death to look forward to.

President Trump continued the tradition yesterday and pardoned Wishbone and Drumstick, two lovely turkeys who will no doubt levy sexual harassment charges against the president in the near future.

It’s an interesting tradition…wiping a turkey’s slate clean and sparing them from any harm. But other than being delightful to look at, did any of these turkeys actually DO anything worthwhile to be pardoned? Who is ever worthy of a pardon?

Is anyone worthy of a pardon that Philadelphia and its fans have sentenced to death? This city has sentenced so many of its own athletes, coaches and media members to the gas chamber over the years…but are any of them worthy of a call from the governor before midnight strikes?

There are so many candidates. Is Andy Reid worthy? He gave us so many great years, a Super Bowl appearance, but he inevitably wore out his welcome in this city like the crotch of every single pair of sweatpants he’s ever owned. Fuck him. He far surpassed the “three strikes” rule of idiotic coaching decisions, clock mismanagement and failure to adapt to anything that went wrong. If he can fit his neck through the hole in the guillotine than he’s finished. Sorry Andy.

Freddie Mitchell? We’ll always have 4th and 26 and he’s still good for an amusing sound clip or two when one of the sports talk stations in town is desperate for content. He was also on the receiving end of McNabb’s famous 14-second scramble and heave against Dallas…but FUCK NO. Enough of him. He still bitches about McNabb “blackballing” him from the league…not the fact that he was an extraordinarily mediocre wide receiver. He’s not worthy. Beat it, Freddie, we’re not even going to offer you a cigarette when you face the firing squad.

Maybe Scott Rolen is worthy of your compassion? NL Rookie of the year, gold glove third baseman during one of the darkest stretches of the Phillies franchise. Nope. Baseball heaven may be in St. Louis, but you’ll be lucky if there’s a heaven after we fit you for a noose at the gallows.

Josh Innes? Ricky Watters? Matt Geiger? Andrew MacDonald? Nah. Mercy is not for them.

So who should be pulled back from the chopping block? There’s one man, and it’s Sam Bradford.

Poor Sammy Sleeves. Remember Sam? Threw 19 touchdowns for the Eagles in a forgotten season back in 2015. Got hurt a lot…then tried to holdout in 2016, skipped off-season workouts and HILARIOUSLY demanded to be traded before training camp despite having no leverage at all. Philadelphia fans called him soft, fans called him a baby…and they really weren’t wrong. He was an ass and he was so disillusioned of his value to the franchise that he’d still be rotting away on the bench if Teddy Bridgewater’s knee didn’t explode and Rick Spielman didn’t have a stroke and offer up a 1st and 4th round pick for him.

Sammy shouldn’t be hated. He is certainly worthy of a pardon, purely because without Sam we wouldn’t have Carson Wentz or Jay Ajayi in our lives. Thank you, Sammy, you’ve done more in your ineptitude and unremarkable one-year tenure with the Eagles than anyone in the history of the organization.

So, when you’re sitting around your table this Thursday with your loved ones and family members (or, if you’re like me, sitting alone next to your hot plate under a bare bulb, wondering if you should “forget” to turn the gas to the oven off and take a long nap) remember to give thanks to Sam Bradford.

Without Sam Bradford in our lives, 9-1 isn’t possible.

Happy Thanksgiving.