Eagles

The anatomy of a lost season

In retrospect, we should have seen it coming. The signs could not have been more clear. Everything pointed to a down season for the Eagles, the vaunted “Super Bowl hangover” that seems to plague every Super Bowl Champion outside of Foxboro.

But we turned our heads. We ignored it. We pointed to the beefed up defensive line, a healthy Sidney Jones, a largely intact and returning offense, and Big Balls Doug Pederson leading us back to the promised land.

We put the blinders on. We ignored Carson Wentz coming back from a devastating knee injury. We ignored Alshon Jeffery coming back from a devastating shoulder injury. We ignored Brandon Graham coming back from a devastating ankle injury. We ignored Jason Peters coming back from a devastating Achilles injury. We ignored Darren Sproles coming back from a devastating leg and knee injury. We ignored a spine injury to Tim Jernigan. A spine injury!

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What the hell was that?

After the Eagles fucked away a 17-point lead against the Panthers three weeks ago, Doug Pederson proclaimed the pressure was off his team.

Imagine how little pressure this team feels right now.

Oh me oh my. What the hell did we all watch last night? More important, WHY did we all watch that last night? If we had paid closer attention to this team, to the smoke and mirrors it had displayed during their four wins, we surely would have noticed that the air was dewy sweet with the potential for a massive letdown.

Please go someone else if you want any type of analysis from this game. Stay here if you want to listen to pure, unadulterated bitching.

Look over here! It’s Brandon Graham stripping Tom Brady in the Super Bowl! Remember that? Hey look at this, it’s the Lombardi trophy! Awesome, right?! No no, don’t look over there at the patchwork secondary, the questionable coaching decisions, or Darren Sproles taking up a roster spot all year to get free healthcare….look back over this way, it’s another replay of the Philly Special! Remember that? Philly Philly? Too cool, right?

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It’s election day! But who should you vote for?

Election day is what separates this fine country from all the others in the world. It’s what this country was founded on, your right to cast a vote to decide who will lead us into the promised land. Why, our electoral process gives millions of inbred middle-American morons a voice to elect a senile, blustering, embarrassing reality TV star to the White House (ok…it may have its flaws).

But, who should we vote for, Uncle Coggin? There are so many candidates, so many fancy ballot questions that those fat cats in Washington make so hard to understand, why, I don’t know where to start!

Well I’m here to steer you through the rigorous voting landscape and offer my humble opinion on who and what you should pull the lever for today.

So please, sit back and let a middle school drop-out guide you into that voting booth, nuzzle up to your body, wrap my arms around your waist and kiss at your soft, luscious neck while we play out our sensual role in democracy.

Don’t come a knocking if that voting booth is rocking.

 

 

 

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Does the Eagles Super Bowl win help with this season’s ineptitude?

I didn’t feel like writing anything today about the Eagles collapse against the Panthers, because what more can be said that hasn’t already been said? 17-0, give up 21 points in the fourth quarter, Wentz misses a wide-open Smallwood to move the chains at the end, fumbles, game over. 3-4 on the season. Fine. Whatever.

Then I saw this.

Everything wrong with Philadelphia sports fans summed up nicely by two moron sports talk callers. Nicely done, gentlemen.

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Down with the boo in Philadelphia

Last night, Markelle Fultz bricked his first shot…and his second…and had his third shot blocked….and absolutely bricked his fourth shot in front of 20,000 rabid fans hoping to see some glimpse of promise from the touted prospect during the 76ers home opener.

I watched from my couch, cringing, waiting for the fickle fans to cascade the struggling shooting guard with boos, to let their frustrations out on the 20-year-old.

It never happened.

Instead, 20,000 fans cheered heartily when he made his fifth shot of the night, upping the volume with every point he scored, and going absolutely BALLISTIC when he finally made a three-point shot deep into the fourth.

Listen to the house come down when he drains this shot.

Awesome. It’s almost like cheers for a 20-year-old struggling with both his confidence and his shot are better than drunken morons booing him during the second game of the season. Who knew?!

They’re doing for Fultz what they did for the terribly slumping Pat Burrell in 2003. They recognize that the effort is there, and they’re pulling for their guy. Burrell came out of it and is BELOVED in this city, there’s no reason Fultz can’t as well.

But but but but Coggin, I hear the five of my dedicated readers saying, it’s our right to boo as fans! How will we let our teams know when they’re under performing, when they’re playing poorly, or when we’re displeased with the effort?

Now now, I’m not saying the boo should be abolished. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time for Philadelphia to finally *GASP* not be brain-dead idiots when we decide to boo.

It’s a tall order for a lot of you, but I know we can do it. Booing is a mental crutch for this city. Lets start walking again. We don’t need it.

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Odell Beckham Jr. is a quagmire of shit

Before human piece of white toast Pat Shurmur is inevitably fired following a 2-14 season, the best thing he could do for the Giants franchise is to put measures in place to keep Saquon Barkley as far away from Odell Beckham Jr. as possible. Put their stalls on opposite sides of the locker room, keep their interactions limited to a bare minimum, spray Barkley with a water bottle if he comes within 20-feet of Beckham…anything to keep one of the worst teammates in the NFL away from one of its best young talents.

Beckham is an awful teammate. He is a black hole of shit. He sucks teammates into his gravitational pull and crushes them under the weight of his diva attitude, molding them into less talented, just as disgruntled clones of himself. Sterling Shepard has already circled the drain, sucked into the Beckham maelstrom; suddenly imploding on the sideline during games and fighting inanimate objects while the Giants find themselves down by two touchdowns yet again.

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Did Don Rickles inadvertently cost the Eagles a Super Bowl victory in 1981?

Yesterday, I found myself struggling to keep my head above water at work and I took a deep, deep dive into a Don Rickles YouTube wormhole. There’s nothing better than watching old talk show clips of Rickles tearing celebrities to shreds as a delighted Johnny Carson or David Letterman look on, unable to stop the hilarious carnage as he barrels over flustered guests and ugly audience members.

I came across a web series produced by the AARP called “Dinner with Don,” released in 2017, featuring a 91-year-old Rickles having dinner with a different celebrity each week. It’s a blatant rip-off of Jerry Seinfeld’s “Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee” and Rickles looks like he can barely keep his head up through the entire taping, but he’s still Rickles and the guests are all interesting, so it’s a great time waster if you’re a fan.

In an interview with Rich Eisen, Rickles drops a gem about the only Super Bowl he’s ever attended, the 1981 Super Bowl XV featuring the Eagles and the Raiders.

According to Rickles, he was in the Eagles locker room before the game and took offense at the VERY Catholic prayer circle, as you can after the jump:

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