Fly, Eagles, Fly

I hate football. You know this.

I can’t stand watching people inflict brain injuries on each other. I hate the heavy haze of alcoholic excess that surrounds post-season play. I don’t watch football games, and last night was not supposed to be an exception.

But I watched a half-hour and I was hooked. And it wasn’t a typical ugly nailbiter of a Philadelphia win — it was a romp by a team that gloried in its underdog status.

And I love underdogs.

It was also my sister’s birthday, and all she really wanted was an Eagles win. She got it, and then some. (I knew in my bones we would win when I saw that Vikings fans decorated the Rocky statue with their team colors. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” I thought to myself.)

This morning, that situation was rectified and all was right with the world.

My siblings, nieces, and nephews had family text messages flying back and forth all night, and of course we thought, “Boy, Dad would be so happy.” My dad, who was buried in his Eagles sweatshirt.

Everybody’s happy. Everyone’s in a good mood. And so, although I hate football, I’m happy, too.

E-A-G-L-E-S Eagles!

Isn’t it romantic?

The Valentine’s Day ad aired during the Super Bowl, to make sure it reached the maximum number of sophisticates. The girl in the ad is a famous foreign model — “super-hot,” as they say on the sports radio stations. You know she’s hot stuff because the background music sounds like someone is having sex, or shooting meth. More here.