If I truly were a seer, I would be without peer and quick as a deer without fear or a beer.
But enough poetry, since no poets ever have been Pro Football Hall of Famers.
Are Bryce Brown and Nick Foles setting off an avalanche of Eagles’ history?
I don’t have the answer. But I don’t have to. I asked the question.
OK, the Eagles lost to the Cowboys 38-33 Sunday night. It was the Birds’ eighth straight loss, making them officially smell worse than a New York subway.
That doesn’t matter, since this Eagles’ season already has become as irrelevant as Romney or functional political leadership in the City of Reading.
But Foles and Brown could be the dawn of a better tomorrow in Philadelphia. Or not.
Brown, if he would only stop fumbling as if the football were buttered, could be the next Bo Jackson or Jim Brown. Or a taxidermist.
Foles won’t be the next Johnny Unitas, Joe Montana, Peyton Manning or Tom Brady, but he could be better than Bobby Hoying or Kevin Kolb or Aunt Bee after going more vertical against Dallas.
If not, serving up Rita’s Ice with that right arm could be a honorable profession.
Personally, I can’t wait for tomorrow because I get better looking every day.
Perhaps the Eagles can’t say the same. But they can take solace in knowing that their future can’t be any jackal-retching-puke uglier than their present.