Why? Why do we care so much?
Why do we continue to go when we know what the outcome will be? Why do we scream and yell and cheer and lose our voice every single week? Why do we leave the stadium mad and despondent, disappointed and depressed? Why do we feel the need to kick trash cans and act like petulant children who haven’t gotten their way? Why do we take it so personally?
Why are we up at nearly 1 a.m. watching replays of Eagles Post Game Live and cursing at our TV? Why do we feel like this team is just taking years off of lives? Why are we such masochists?
Why are the Eagles so bad? And more importantly… Why are Nnamdi Toastmugha and Kurt Coleman STILL playing together on the same side of the field?! Why is Nate Allen always out of position and why is Jason Babin still in midnight green? Why does Brent Celek feel the need to celebrate EVERY SINGLE CATCH? Why is Desean Jackson so fragile and why is a kicker the team’s MVP? Why is the Wide-9 still a thing?! Why would they run the same direct snap to Bryce Brown FIVE times in one game? WHY CAN’T PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL PLAYERS TACKLE?!!!?!
Why do the Eagles take one step forward and eight steps back? For every big play they make, they give up three more. Why?
Why can’t this team win a fucking game?
Why do Bobby April, Marty Mornhinweg, Jim Washburn and – of course – Andy Reid still have jobs?
The other day, a friend asked if we were going to the game tonight. We said of course. His response… “Why?!” We honestly don’t know anymore.
The basement of the NFC is cold and lonely.