Pardon me if I’m a little tipsy with the intoxication of the moment, but the Eagles are going to the Super Bowl!
Imagine that because nobody in hell – or heaven – ever imagined that back in August.
Remember that dark day when wunderkind Carson Wentz went down with a shredded ACL and folks thought that the Birds’ season went up in smoke?
Guess what? They were not down to their last cigarette.
Courtesy of Nick Foles, who once upon a time had a fairy tale season of his own under Chip Kelly with the Eagles.
In the NFC conference championship game Sunday night against the favored Vikings, Foles had a supernova of a game. He rode an awesome wave all evening, one of those galactic explosions of white light that simply consumes everything else.
He entered the game with circumstances putting him squarely in the crosshairs. If what he had wrought in the game had gone down in flames, he would have been the first one incinerated.
Instead he burned that vaunted Vikings’ D, going a do-you-freaking-believe-this 26 of 33 for 352 yards, three touchdowns, no picks and an astounding 141.4 passing rating in a resounding 38-7 ass-whupping.
So much for the Eagles being underdogs.
Sunday night we heard the howl of the wolf — OK, dog — and the bleat of the lamb.
Besides Foles and his electric offense, the Eagles’ defense gobbled up the Vikings like a starving wolf tracking down a pork chop.
Granted, the Eagles face a daunting task in the Super Bowl when they confront the immortal Tom Brady and the dynastic Patriots. Once again they will be characterized as underdogs.
But these underdogs have one percussive bite.