This Sunday the WWE is hosting its best pay-per-view of the year. The organization’s ROYAL RUMBLE is BY FAR the best PPV the wrestling brand puts on every year, with pops and surprises that no other event can top.
So as always we decided to COMPLETELY rip it off with our own Royal Rumble.
For those unfamiliar with the concept, a “Royal Rumble” consists of 30 wrestlers entering the ring every two minutes in an all-out, every man or woman for themselves brawl. The entrants are eliminated when thrown over the top rope, and the final man (or woman) standing wins the event and gets to headline Wrestlemania.
What better way to honor the WWE’s best show by putting on our own knock-off event with far less athletic and far, FAR LESS famous contestants that are flimsily connected to Philadelphia in the thinnest ways possible? SOUNDS FUN TO ME!
Of course, as its done the past four years in a row, The Coggin Toboggan hosts its own annual All-Philadelphia Royal Rumble on the Friday before WWE’s event, completely overshadowing the real deal with its complete lack of morals, its utter depravity, and absolute disregard for human life and well being. As always we’ve invited 30 of the most ruthless and knuckle dragging Philadelphians to bash each others brains in for minimal glory, absolutely no prize money, and a dark spot on their careers they’ll never be able to erase.
Five years ago I decided to start a blog, a hacky Onion ripoff dedicated to nothing but Philadelphia sports and being an absolute piece of garbage on Twitter. It’s been five long years of this HORSESHIT at the Coggin Toboggan and frankly it feels like a prison sentence that just won’t end.
But lucky for you I’ve become accustomed to the inside and there’s no way I’d survive on the outside. I’m stuck in this hell of my own creation and will take it to the grave with me.
Sorry folks, put your aluminum poles away. They’ll be fine in the crawl space, believe me, they have a very high strength to weight ratio after all.
I’m sorry to announce that Festivus is cancelled for the year. Why? Because you can’t celebrate Festivus a day after the Eagles embarrass the Dallas Cowboys on national television for the NFC East crown.
Really, what can we complain about? What grievances could we possibly air, Philadelphia, one day after sending the Cowboys back to the heart of Texas with yet another huge “L” in a big spot with many more questions than answers in their future.
Frat boy and hot take artist Max Kellerman slithered his way into town this morning for a special Philadelphia episode of ESPN’s migraine inducing “First Take.” As was his destiny, Kellerman was lustily booed by well-lubricated fans who used his appearance at Chickie & Pete’s as an excuse to get shit-faced drunk instead of going to work, as is every Philadelphian’s god given right.
At this point you’re not going to read anything new that hasn’t already been said about Kellerman, his inane opinions on Carson Wentz, or the fact that a third-level tier boxing analyst wormed his way onto the national sports opinion stage on the back of Stephen A. Smith’s notoriety.
No. Let’s be much more childish and play Philadelphia’s favorite game, “What does Max Kellerman look like?!?” after the jump!
Looks like we have a real “Replacements” type situation on our hands, as it seems the only members of the Eagles roster who actually want to play out the rest of year are those who languished on the practice squad for the entirety of the year.
Maybe it’s not great for your talent evaluation skills when practice squad players are making more of an impact on offense than most of your high-level draft picks, ehh Howie?
A popular Twitter argument raged on yesterday, and likely will continue to rage on for years after all of us are dead and buried. Is the franchise quarterback Carson Wentz shouldering enough of the blame for yet another Eagles loss? Sure he played a nice game, but when it mattered in the end the team came up short.
Fifty years from now we’ll be hunched over our iPhones, spines crooked with age, shrunken shoulders in our Dawkins jerseys hate-tweeting each other over the perceived or non-perceived slights of Wentz.
We all thought dynasty when Brady’s desperation heave fell to the earth on Feb. 4, 2018, didn’t we? I know I did. I remember touting the Eagles moves that offseason at a two-year-old’s birthday party to my friends, firmly declaring the season would be “a complete disappointment if the Eagles didn’t AT LEAST return to the Super Bowl.”
Well here we are. A season and a half later. Carson Wentz looks more and more like a guy who lucked into 10 amazing MVP-caliber games, got hurt, and then went through his next 21 games as a quarterback lacking health, confidence, weapons….and the elite skill that made him a top-3 quarterback in 2017.
Was that it? Was 2017 the high-water mark and we’ll all just be waiting for that next wave until the seafloor is dry and arid?
Sixers basketballllllllllll is back! We are ROLLING into the 2019-2020 season with a perfect 3-0 slate as your PHILADELPHIA 76ERS look to be legitimate contenders for the NBA crown. The team is prime, the team is young, and the team is hungry for success…which makes this look back into the shitty time capsule of 76ers past all the more pleasing.
The year was 2012. Mark Zumov and Malik Rose were teaching Philadelphia how to love again. The 76ers were fresh off a trade that would SURELY send them hurtling into the stratosphere of the top NBA teams with their acquisition of Andrew Bynum. Bowling jokes were at an all time low in the Delaware Valley.
It’s that time of year again, when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of an NBA championship and when he desperately represses memories of a mother fucking off-balanced three point shot that bounces on the rim 900 times before elegantly falling through the hoop to mercilessly end all of our hopes and dreams.
Yes, the 76ers are BACK BABY! A slimmed down Joel Embiid! Al Horford using his offensive rebounding prowess for the powers of good and not evil! Awkward photos of Markelle Fultz trying to raise his arms over his head while going down the final drop in Splash Mountain! What a year it’s shaping up to be.
It’s a NEW season and this calls for some BOLD takes, far bolder and newer than last year’s column where I proudly declared Mike Muscala would quickly become a fan favorite in Philadelphia.
So here we go, on the day of the 76ers 2019-2020 season, we have FIFTY BOLD PREDICTIONS for our beloved Sixers:
Well well well, what do we have here. Five games into the season and the Eagles find themselves at 3-2, tied with the rotten Cowboys of Dallas at the top of the NFC East as Dak Prescott threw THREE interceptions against the Packers and couldn’t complete the late comeback.
Not too easy when you’re playing the dregs of the NFL anymore, is it fellas?
Ten sacks. Two defensive touchdowns. Two interceptions. It was a massacre from the jump as Adam Gase couldn’t crazy eye his team to victory and Luke Falk may or may not have shed a few tears at halftime.
Sam Darnold’s spleen definitely let out a sigh of relief that it wasn’t cleared to play in the 31-6 demolition of what could be the worst team in all of football.
On to Minnesota. Random thoughts on the game after the jump: