Yeah, FUCK that guy. Jesus Christ. You could smell the Delco (or Northeast, possibly Blackwood) through the screen. It reminded me of Homer Simpson trying to rap, just drunker and more divorced.
New team. New game. New jam. Forget this alcoholic creature and let’s get behind this wholesome Eagles Dad who SLAPS on the Ukulele.
Let’s do this.
PS – The last time the Eagles and Saints met in the playoffs Mo and I defended the city of Philly as best as we could. Good times had by all, well until the game actually started.