Applying to be the next Philadelphia Eagles Head Coach

This is it Philadelphia. The moment you and I have long been waiting for. The time is ripe for a new leader of men to take the Philadelphia Eagles by the balls and mold it into a franchise you’d be proud to bring home to momma.

Is there anyone better suited to the open coaching position than I? A blogger who hasn’t played a down of organized football in his life, but who terrorized the sandlot games of his youth with a ferocious forearm shiver and incredibly dirty chop blocks that crippled far too many? A former rubber cement huffing addict who may or may not be looking to rob a Hobby Lobby for one more score before he finally calls it quits?

Of course there isn’t. You all know me, know how I make a living….and there is nobody in this city who better suited to take this franchise by the horns than I.

I know what you’re thinking….how is a man of indeterminate age and questionable health going to lead a group of finely trained athletes to the promised land? Well let me tell you something, amigo….it’s not the brand of the car it’s the way she runs and this old girl is HUMMING along just fine.

Now, yes, I have “applied” for several positions during my years as the steward of The Coggin Toboggan and have never ONCE received a call back or second interview. The 97.5 Programming Director? The on-air position with the Fanatic? The Eagles senior analytics coordinator? The Head Coach of the University of Wisconsin basketball team? Not a sniff. Do you know why? They were all terrified of my genius and wanted the same old yes men to come into the fold. THEY HAD NO VISION….and I’m fairly sure they all had policies against hiring the Irish. BEGOSH AND BEGORRAH.

But this….this is different. They can’t deny the FRESH and EXCITING ideas I’d bring to the position. Drawing up wacky plays on the sideline completely going against the meticulous game plan my beleaguered assistant coaches slaved over throughout the week while I no-showed practice after practice to prank call Philadelphia sports talk stations? You betcha. Finding the biggest and baddest member of the Eagles press corps (Bowen) on my first day of the job and fighting him to establish dominance? Absolutely. Calling Howie “Harold” on occasion to remind him how far below the organizational totem pole he is from me? I’d do that without the job.

It’s all about attitude, something the Eagles have have severely lacked since 2017. Followers look to their leader during times of great stress. They want guidance, a firm hand to lead them through strife. How do you think they felt when they looked to Doug Pederson in the 4th quarter of a tight game and he was staring off into space, a rivulet of drool inching its way through the mighty cleft of his chin? It wasn’t pride, I can tell you that.

And what will they feel when they see me prowling the sidelines? It still probably won’t be pride, but it will be FEAR. THAT I can promise you. The days of the pampered athlete will be over in this town. Forget an assignment in the field of battle? You’re getting a cleat to the eye when you’re looking at film. Blow a coverage? Boy, I’d hate it if the sideline warmer caved in your skull while you made excuses on the bench. Missed field? SPINNING DISCUS CLOTHESLINE TO THE TRACHEA.

This is our moment, Philadelphia. We’re going to take back this team for the little guy. Sure, I’ll be the one getting all the glory, making all the money and shunning all of you the second I taste a tiny bit of celebrity and fame, but believe me you’ll still all be in my hearts when I hit it big. Of course I’d rather spit in your face on the streets instead of speaking with you, but just know on the inside I’ll be aching for all of you. You make me do this, gang, I can’t help it. I just care about you so damned much, you make me do these things.

You know where to find me for an interview, Mr. Lurie. Come and get me.

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