The Technology's Great; the Content Stinks
What a time to be alive. It's Sunday afternoon, I'm sitting in Brooklyn, New York, I've got two computers on the desk in front of me. One is showing the Eagles game, one is showing the Phillies game. The picture is pretty good on the Eagles, perfect on the Phils.
Problem is that the Eagles look like a bad high school team, losing 10-0 after fumbling a punt recovered in the end zone and with three sad excuses for drives, and the Phillies... well, it's hard to have faith in a team that lost two games where they led by five runs or more within the last week.
Still, I'm here, and work isn't getting done. So it's clear who the real sucker is.
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This really can't be good for my stomach. The Phillies went up big early and are now bidding to blow their third lead of 5+ runs in a week, leading 8-5 through 6 1/2. The Eagles face-planted early, came back to take a 13-10 lead, and are now tied at 13 with seven and a half minutes left in the game.
Both scores still as above. Packers are running a two minute drill in the fourth quarter, and... ah. Even as I type, the Phillies escape from an 8th-inning two-on, one-out jam with a double play. Side retired!
Eagles force the punt... and J.R. Reid fumbles it. Green Bay recovers and is now is field goal position with less than a minute left.
It's hard out here for a Philly guy.
And that's that. Eagles lose, 16-13. I'm not yet upset; presumably that will come later.
Just to close the circle and end this pathetic display, the Phillies did hold on to win, 8-5.
Thank the gods it's over and now I can get on with the housework and job stuff.
So being a Philly guy is sort of like being a pimp? As a fan I feel more like a john who gets sucker-punched and beaten up for his cash before any act of intimacy takes place. Afterwards you feel sort of dirty and grimy, ill-used and guilty and regretful about having gotten so enmeshed in such a sordid business in the first place. Or, ah, so I imagine, you know.
I suppose that makes Giles and Montgomery the real pimps.
Yeah, we're probably more mark-ass tricks or trick-ass marks than pimps.
But Pat Burrell's a stone cold playa.
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