They say the divide between winning and losing usually is microscopic rather than gaping.
They were wrong. At least concerning what transpired at the Linc Sunday night.
The Eagles did more than hose the dreaded Cowboys. They crucified them. It was the biggest mismatch since Hitler took out Poland.
Apparently not only did we canonize the Eagles too early this season, we buried them too early as well.
The Once Upon A Time Dream Team evidently didn’t totally implode after its 1-4 start, and their self-inflicted wounds seemingly won’t forever follow them this season, shadows growing longer with each setting sun.
The Birds left the Cowboys naked with nowhere to hide, strip-searching them every which way but loose in a 34-7 Prime Time Destruction so awesome to behold that Merrill Reese’s tonsils were vibrating like violin strings and Andy Reid’s belly was quivering like a bowlful of jelly.
Suddenly we didn’t need to know the metric system to count all the Eagles’ turnovers. Suddenly they weren’t sloppier than a truck-stop waitress, they weren’t tackling like arthritic grasshoppers, and their schemes didn’t have more holes than Swiss cheese.
Shady McCoy shredded Dallas for 185 yards and two touchdowns and Michael Vick was sharper than a stick in the eye in targeting 21 of 28 for 279 yards and two TDs. All of which shut up Rob Ryan.
And defensively the Eagles were more dominant than a dominatrix, finally getting a terrorist pass rush in sync with suffocating coverage.
Indeed, the Eagles Sunday were more surreal than an October snowstorm around here. Who would have thunk it?