Welcome back! Welcome, welcome, welcome. Better late than never, right? For anyone who’s new around here (we love newcomers), let’s do a little explaining. I have a tradition where every summer when the Eagles report for training camp, I publish a column.
It is one of my favorite things that I do in life, and this will mark the 12th edition with the origin dating back to 2014. The column got its start being somewhat analytical in nature, but oftentimes now, we will more so take a metaphorical look at the state of the franchise. The 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024 columns can all be found at their respective links.
In several prior years, the brainstorming and writing happens in May and June and is essentially done by July 4th. That was the complete opposite this time around as 2025 will mark the latest into August that the column has ever been published.
In fact, as of six weeks ago, I barely had an idea, let alone coherent words bringing it to life. A few folks reached out asking if there was going to be a column this summer or if there would be a hiatus. I mostly deflected and/or ignored the questions in the early going. I was of course immensely appreciative that people cared that much to ask in the first place, but if I was going to make this happen, I needed to block out any outside noise.
You see, my actual job demands creativity from me on a daily basis. If I don’t consistently come up with smart, creative ideas, then my family doesn’t eat, and let me tell you as a new parent, formula and diapers are expensive as all fucking hell. It’s rather challenging for me to be creative at my job, immediately flip a switch to this, and then find time to be a parent in between.
I wrote down a couple ideas the second week of July and immediately deleted them. It would be a pretty inconvenient year to take a break with the Eagles coming off their second Super Bowl championship, but this just felt like it wasn’t happening.
Sometimes the best ideas have been right there the whole time, and you just haven’t been able to see the forest through the trees. All of a sudden come mid-July, I found some clarity.
There was one thing still giving me pause though (am I doing a good job selling you so far? 😂). Last year I had done more world-building than ever before. The 2024 version ended up exceeding more than 31K words when all was said and done, and I thought it was one of my strongest columns.
A pretty important Philadelphia Eagle likes to say that “the standard is the standard, and it’s always rising,” and yet I knew there was no way I could hit that word count again. Then, I thought of a former teach of mine — 9th grade Honors Social Studies. I’m gonna leave his name out of this for the sake of some privacy.
He actually was a pretty polarizing figure in the school. Some folks likely found him to be an asshole. I can acknowledge that and also say that he was probably my favorite teacher I ever had. Coincidentally, I’m also pretty certain he was a Kansas City Chiefs fan.
In September 2005, only a few weeks into the school year, he handed back a paper he had graded. I had received an A on the assignment, and there was also an arrow directing me to see further comments on the back. I flipped the stapled pieces of paper over to find six words:
Brevity is the spice of life
In short, I had written more than I needed to. I had a habit where if I didn’t know the answer to something, I would just write a lot of fluff to make it look better. It’s a trap I still fall into in the present day when verbally answering question at work.
With this being one of the first assignments, he indicated that he would let it slide but wanted me to learn how to answer a question more succinctly and would proceed to stay on me about this for the following nine months.
In retrospect, it’s a little surprising that I took to his methods. He was definitely hard on me, and I’m much more of a ‘Love me up,’ ‘ataboy’ type of person than tough love, but back then, I needed someone to call me out on it even if I’m still slipping up at times two decades later. I struggled with boundaries and benefited from an authority figure noting that I could write less words but still produce similar results.
For all I knew, he could have hated me. I was largely liked by teachers because I was a good student who did the work, but I didn’t make it a point to get close with them, so most just ended up realizing I was pretty smart and left me alone, instead focusing their attention on other students who may have required more of it for one reason or another. I felt as if he actually took an interest in trying to make me better at something I wasn’t good at.
We haven’t spoken in years, and I’m not even sure he’d remember me, but recalling his comment led to me embracing that word count is just a number, and what really matters is the actual storytelling and how it makes readers think and feel.
I’ve never dedicated the column to anyone before, but in addition to the motivation provided by my wife and 9-month old son, who saw his first Eagles Super Bowl Title at only 102 days old 🦅🏆, this teacher deserves credit for making this one happen.
Per tradition, the column — while not as lengthy as years past — has been neatly divided into chapters, so you can keep your place and easily return to it later, akin to reading a great book. Each chapter title is also represented by a song title, linking out to a Spotify playlist, so you can jam out to the soundtrack while reading if that’s your thing.
While it’s the first thing you read, the Editor’s Note is always the last thing I write after the column is otherwise finished. If the actual column is the filet mignon at a steakhouse, then consider the Editor’s Note the calamari appetizer and the cheesecake dessert all in one.
I love that it gives me a chance to talk directly to the audience before getting into the meat of the content, and it also serves as a reward of mine for actually following through and finishing said column. Being able to write this part is a privilege — not a guarantee.
One final note before I send you on your way into the 2025 column:
My Venmo handle is @Drew-Balis. I’ve had people suggest to me in the past that I should put the column beyond a paywall on Substack, Patreon, etc. I don’t have plans to do that in the moment. I don’t write this to make money, but at the end of the day, it does help to ensure writers like yours truly will continue to invest the time and effort into creating quality work, especially in the current AI era, so just as you would tip a rideshare driver, waiter/waitress, or piano player at a restaurant if they provide excellent service and quality entertainment, I would kindly ask that you consider doing the same if you deem the column worth of a 5-star rating.
For those who don’t want to do that, and all good if so, my non-monetary ask would be that you share the column on social media, text it in your group chat, send me a testimonial that I can use to promote it, etc. My goal on Column Day and in the days following is for this link to be everywhere across the Internet, and as the lifeblood of the operation, you can help me achieve that.
A massive thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who will read this year’s edition. It means more to me than you know, and I sincerely hope you have as much fun reading it as I ultimately did writing it.
Here’s to Year 12 🍻
Chapter 1: Comfortably Numb
Monday, February 10th, 6:24 am ET
Everything is right in the world.
Well, maybe not everything. A jolt of unfamiliar abdominal pain stirs you awake from a short slumber. To say you chose sleep would be inaccurate. Your body more so forced it upon you a little less than four hours ago when you passed out on your living room couch.
There was no one still awake to FaceTime. No text messages that you felt motivation to answer in the moment. No new locker room videos to consume on Twitter. Rewatching Cooper DeJean’s pick six and DeVonta Smith’s game-sealing dagger for the 30th time respectively would resume in the morning.
Free agency does not beckon for more than a month. The celebration is just beginning.
Your stomach evidently has other ideas right now.
Concerned for what may be about to happen next, you quickly lift a midnight green Brandon Graham jersey over your head and safely toss it aside on a cushion while making a beeline for the bathroom.
You barely made it. It’s like your body knew. An orange substance fills the sink as you attempt to take a breath.
This could easily resemble the first scene of the pilot episode of Succession, but you’d like to think that you’re more aware of your surroundings than Logan was at the time.
The toilet probably would have been more appropriate. You hadn’t vomited in nearly 22 years, so you’ll have to forgive oneself for not knowing the proper protocol.
In fact, you have a deep fear of throw up — not from a squeamish standpoint in terms of other people doing it but the action itself.
You will and have gone to great lengths to avoid the very act, so it must have been pretty bad for your body to take this leap, especially now.
No, this is not some giant metaphor for how Patrick Mahomes and the Chiefs offense looked last night. You’ve really managed to throw up for the first time in more than two decades eight hours removed from the second Super Bowl Championship of your lifetime.
This exact same sequence will repeat itself 10 minutes later. So you’ve now managed to puke more in the past hour than you have since you were 12 year old in April 2003.
This time, a night nurse hired to watch after your infant son doesn’t say anything but looks on with some concern. Hopefully that was it. You clean the sink, attempt to wash out your mouth, and muster enough energy to give the nurse a brief nod as her shift is nearing its end.
Perhaps some additional background would be helpful here before any conclusions are drawn. You didn’t have a sip of alcohol before, during, nor after the game. Aside from a few chocolate covered pretzels, you ate nothing out of the ordinary other than a standard Eagles gameday meal of some buffalo wings, fries, and carrots.
You helped organize the rager on Sirianni Island but let others enjoy the actual beer drinking.
Let’s get back on topic. Your wife was sick all day Saturday while you felt totally fine other than predictable pre-game jitters. She was better come Sunday morning. It appears you were thankfully spared on gameday only to catch the bug one day later. Such is life being first-time parents of a 3-month old who just recently started daycare.
Your favorite sports team conquered the demons of Mahomes and Andy Reid last night, and maybe, just maybe, you — not by choice but by force — got past your aversion to throw up.
Parental leave will allow you to take it easy for the remainder of the day. The sickness will linger on Monday, peak on Tuesday, and mostly dissipate by Wednesday night, leaving you ample time to enjoy the Friday parade from afar.
You hope Nick provides a mic drop moment and tells someone to go fuck themself.
The NFL calendar is unforgiving, and in time, you’ll have to turn the page, You’ve learned from 2018 not to wait too long to do so, but there’s still time to celebrate one of the greatest teams in modern NFL history.
After all, you once told the coach who delivered your first Super Bowl that “Banners fly forever.”
The coach, quarterback, and much of the roster naturally changed, but the plural form now rings true for you.
Chapter 2: You Can’t Always Get What You Want
Monday, February 17th, 10:06 am ET
You’re immediately ambushed in an enthusiastic embrace as you knock on an office door, but it’s who nor what you were anticipating.
“WE DID IT BUDDYY!” you hear. The voice is slightly higher-pitched than you were expecting, and you’re unable to lift your head to identify the speaker with said person’s arms around your neck.
The hug concludes a few seconds later, allowing you to get your bearings.
“Dude, congrats!!! Helluva job!” you say extending out your hand for a hug that allows you to take in the surroundings this time. “Also damn Howie, you wasted no time getting back to work. I didn’t even think I’d see you today. What a job, man. What a roster!”
The gash from a flying beer can on Howie’s forehead has gone down since Friday but is still very much visible. You obviously don’t bring it up unless he does.
“Had to brother!” responds Howie. “We’re behind on free agency, draft stuff. All of our focus has been on finishing the job. You know how the past few years we haven’t negotiated with any pending free agents in season and all.”
You nod your head to indicate you’ve picked up on the pattern.
“Yeah, well now we gotta get going,” adds Howie. “Nick’s in a bunch of meetings by the way. He’s not gonna be able to chat if that’s part of why you’re here.”
Howie definitely did you a favor by bringing this up so you didn’t have to, but that’s far from what you were hoping to hear.
“Damn, that’s a shame,” you say, trying to keep your composure through this unexpected news. “I mean don’t get me wrong. It’s great to see you, Howie. I love you, but you know, I’ve celebrated a Super Bowl with you before. I really wanted to congratulate Nick and talk some offseason stuff there.”
“Oh, I’ll pass along your congrats message,” says Howie while multitasking between scrolling on an iPad and thumbing through some paper files.
“Thanks, Howie. I appreciate that,” you say with some tepid energy while turning around to prepare your departure.
“Whoa whoa whoa! Just because Nick isn’t available doesn’t mean you have to leave so fast. Here, I got a few minutes to talk. I can let you know what we’re thinking. Come on back,” Howie says while making a waving motion with his hand. “Close the door if you don’t mind. I don’t want anyone to overhear us.”
You quickly walk in reverse and reach for the doorknob as Howie pulls out a chair from behind his desk for you.
This is far from your original plan, but it’s certainly something. Howie does a quick turn towards his computer before locking into the conversation, so you take this as an invitation to talk first.
“So what you thinking?” you ask. “I mean, I know it’s hard to top last offseason, but after the heater you were on, I’ll trust largely whatever you tell me.”
“Well, what are you thinking?” Howie asks back. “You know football. I’ll tell you our plan so far, but I want to hear from you first.”
“Yeah,” you say. “Thanks, Howie. We know Super Bowl winners always get raided. That’s just a fact. The league, the system tries to do everything possible to ensure teams don’t repeat. We know that.
I also know you gotta plan for the Jalen Carter extension.”
“What a steal JC was,” interjects Howie. “Can you believe he fell to our range a couple years ago?”
You smile and continue. “Yeah, and the scary thing for other teams is he’s just scratching the surface if he keeps his head on straight. He’s gonna make a fortune, and then you got Nolan too, what a playoff run by Nolan, and then Quinyon and Cooper the year after that.
I wish Quinyon had a different last name by the way. See I love him, but I can never have his jersey because of his last name. I’ll spare you the details, but I refuse to wear that name on my back. I did get this shirt though as an alternative…”
You reach for your phone to show Howie a picture of the shirt before realizing after a few seconds that he probably doesn’t care about this.
“Sorry,” you say. “Let me get back on track. Yeah, man, I expect it to be quieter, but the window is wide open, man. The infrastructure is in place. We’re losing very little on offense. We got a chance to do something really special here. Like I hate to bring other teams into the conversation, but never in my lifetime did I think I’d see the day where we could be the Patriots or be the Chiefs if you will. It’s right there. We can do it. Let’s go for it.
I think we’re gonna keep [Zack] Baun. The breadcrumbs have been there the whole time. I wouldn’t be shocked if you even get that one done before free agency. Sweaty’s gone, we know that. Very nice Eagles career, incredible Super Bowl, but aside from appreciation, I’m kinda indifferent there.
Good player, but he had a stretch of 11 straight regular season games at one point between last year and this year without a sack. We can replace him. I imagine BGs retiring — happy retirement GOAT. I mean, I’d take him back for sure, but it just feels like such a poetic way to go out.
I love Milt — always have. I knew he was gonna go off in the Super Bowl, but we know he’s about to get paid. If you pivoted off Baun and focused on him, I wouldn’t be mad about it at all, but I don’t expect it.
Moro Ojomo ain’t Milt, but I do feel like he’d be ready for a bigger role. Ojomo in an under the radar way was on the field for some of the season’s biggest moments like the end of the Rams game, and hopefully Jordan Davis builds off a solid performance in the playoffs. I wouldn’t extend him, but I’m down to pick up the 5th year option and continue gathering information there.
So of the big four — Baun, Milt, Sweat, [Mekhi] Becton, maybe we get Baun and Becton back. A guy like Khalil Mack could be a nice veteran pass rusher if he wants to ring chase. Still productive, he was with Vic in 2018, has played in playoff games before.
Then maybe we can retain a guy like Isaiah Rodgers to fill Slay’s spot. Nick can tell you —I definitely took Slay for granted at times, but he was really, really good last year. It felt to me like Q and Cooper lit a fire under him. Incredible interception in the Packers playoff game, incredible quote after. My gut says both sides move on there — that the money probably won’t match up but nice way for him to go out.
Oren Burks probably gone too, but I still can’t believe the first play of the playoffs was him forcing a fumble. Legendary stuff.”
You realize you’ve been going for a long while now and have thrown a lot of different thoughts at Howie.
“I’ll wrap up in a second,” you say while picking your head up to make eye contact.
“You’re alright,” Howie says back nodding. “This is good stuff. Keep going.”
“Draft stuff,” you say. “I won’t get too into draft stuff until after free agency, but my thoughts are always that you can never have too many edge rushers, regardless of free agency. There’s a pass rusher I like out of Boston College. I think his name’s Donovan Ezeiruaku or something like that.
But yeah, I just know it will be nice to have some year-over-year stability at safety with Chauncey and Reed. That’s pretty much all I got.
I could waste your time on a lot more minutiae, but yeah, that’s the big stuff.”
“Water?” asks Howie. “Nick tells me you love your water,” he adds while tossing you a bottle that you catch and proceed to open.
“Thank you,” you say.
“Yeah, so Zack is for sure gonna be a priority, and I definitely agree with what you said about planning for the future. I like a lot of your other thinking, but I can tell you that we’re gonna do very little of it.”
Howie definitely transitioned to a deadpan manner to deliver the final part.
“Damn straight?” you ask. “What we got then?”
“Well, a lot of those guys you mentioned — Slay, Milt, Isaiah. They’re all gonna be gone.”
‘Alright, you say. “Not too shocked by any of that. No worries.”
“There’s more,” Howie comes back with quickly. “We’ll keep the door open on Mekhi, but I wouldn’t count on it.
By the way, check out this linebacker from Alabama we’re thinking about in the first round of the draft.”
Howie turns his computer to you and adds “Name’s Jihaad Campbell. Local kid,” before pressing play on a highlight video.
“Yeah, Howie. Seems impressive. I didn’t watch as much college football as usual with a newborn this past fall, but I sorta remember hearing his name, but we both know you’d never actually take a linebacker in the first round, right? Right?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” Howie replies with a wink. “Remember that people thought I wouldn’t pay a running back either.”
“Alright,” you say. “But we can agree those aren’t exactly apples to apples, right? This linebacker thing goes back to the 1970s.”
This was supposed to be a short conversation, and now you’re thinking about the scene in the Social Network where Eduardo gets caught up on the marlin and trout analogy.
“That’s not all,” says Howie while you sit still and attempt to process everything.
“Schedule won’t come out for a while, but I’m hearing we’re in for a wild one. I’m talking no back-to-back home games.”
“Has that ever happened before in terms of a defending Super Bowl champion’s schedule?” you wonder aloud. You’re completely over last week’s sickness but can feel your eyes bugging out of your head.
“You’re good with stats,” quips Howie. “I would ask you.”
“Yeah, I’d have to do a little research there, but if you’re right, that might be the first time it’s ever happened.”
“Final thing,” Howie says.
You’re not sure where this is going at this point.
“What you said about safety stability. I wouldn’t necessarily bank on that.”
“You trading Reed?” you ask. “One year before free agency. Get out in front of it. Makes key interceptions. My buddy Justin loves him. I understand it though.”
“Not quite,” says Howie.
“NO!” you yell.
That shout was unlike you, and you’re not sure what is happening right now.
“Howie, if I may, we’ve done this before. Let me rephrase actually. You’ve tried this before. You tried it two offseasons ago. It doesn’t work. Us and Chauncey are better together than apart.”
“I get it,” says Howie.
“I know I said I would trust pretty much whatever you said, but can we talk about this one a little more?” you press. “I know he got ejected in the Commanders game, though I’m still not sure exactly what he did. I know he can be a handful. I’m sure he annoys the hell out of Vic, but Howie, six interceptions both seasons here.
Plus, the guy wins. This feels crazy to say as Super Bowl Champions, but the last time we won a playoff game without Chauncey on the field was the Double Doink game.”
“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” says Howie in a calm manner. “Just be prepared. Still a few weeks away, but I’d lean towards something happening there. He makes money, has a moveable contract, and we are in the business of saving money at the moment.”
“My gut says there’s more to it than that,” you say sounding defeated.
This one threw you for a loop, but you’re not about to press an argument with a two-time Super Bowl Champion General Manager on a Hall of Fame trajectory.
“Alright though,” you continue. “You’ve earned the right to make this decision and be trusted sans panic. I’ll be upset when I see it, but I trust you.
On another note to end on, does Nick have offensive coordinator interviews lined up? There’s some interesting names out there available — Bobby Slowik, Josh McCown, even Frank [Reich]. Frank would be more of the safe hire variety but overall, big chance to bring in a lot of fresh ideas there.”
Howie’s resumed alternating between video on his computer and flipping through some paper documents again, a subtle cue that he appears over the conversation.
“Yeah, so Nick’s obviously been closer to that process than I have, but I think he’s probably just gonna promote Kevin.”
“Kevin?” you ask.
A swift helping of PTSD just overwhelmed you as you emerged from the chair that Howie provided.
“Yeah, Kevin Patullo,” says Howie. “Man, you need to get some sleep.”
“I knew who you meant,” you say with a chuckle. “What I was trying to say without saying it, but I’ll just come out and say it is are we sure?
The Chauncey and winning stuff you — You wanna write that off as coincidence? I can meet you halfway there, but we’ve tried the internal promotion with offensive coordinators coming off the past two Super Bowls, and it just doesn’t work.
That’s not entirely fair to Kevin, but we just don’t have good recent history with this between [Mike] Groh and Brian [Johnson].”
“Kevin is super smart,” answers Howie while rising to shake your hand. “That’s Coach’s guy. Nick’s earned that if he believes he’s the best person for the job.”
You take a final sip of your water and toss it in a nearby trash can. “I agree he seems smart. It’s just…”
Howie takes you by surprise, cutting you off. “You for real look tired. Why don’t…?”
“I am tired,” you quickly voice back. “I have a three and a half month old at home. I’m exhausted, but we won the the Super Bowl, so I’ve been running on adrenaline and sleeping in short spurts.”
“Go get some sleep,” says Howie as he walks towards you from his desk. “You and Nick will talk at some point before the season. We got this. We’re in good shape.”
Between the people to the topics, none of this was the plan when the morning began, but the Super Bowl high is still strong.
“Great job man,” you say while Howie hugs you once more. “Tell Nick I love him, and please, please pass along my congratulations message. I could text him, but I’m sure he has 1800 unread texts right now, and I can’t even imagine that in multiple ways.”
“I will,” answers Howie while placing a water in your hand for the road. “He loves you too.”
Chapter 3: Reunited
Thursday, August 7th, 10:59 pm ET
You do a final rummage through your pockets to ensure you have everything — mobile chargers included and in particular here. They’re going to be important.
Your eyes are weary from a full workday followed by three hours of preseason football.
You can’t even see the color of the car that pulled up but assume it’s for you.
“Kyle?” you hear from the front seat. “That’s funny,” you say with a legitimate laugh. “Great insult. Let’s do it.”
You toss a backpack and a few bottles of water aside and settle into the passenger side seat in the back.
“Are you Kyle?” you hear once again. “Or KMart93. Whatever your profile said.”
You’ve now gone from amused to confused, reaching for a light atop the roof of the car. Confused now turns to apologetic with the driver inheriting your previously puzzled state.
“Oh my fault, sir,” you say in a concerned tone. “You’re not who I was anticipating. Let me just get my stuff, and I’ll get out of here.”
“No problem,” says the driver. “I’d expect as much from an Eagles fan.”
“Go Birds. Super Bowl Champs,” you say while nodding with a smirk and lightly closing the door.
You stretch and yawn slightly, the latter not being a great sign. That may have been a small mishap, but you’ve got a big night ahead.
Another car pulls up, and the flash of the light catches your eye.
You walk with a little extra enthusiasm and swing open the door.
“DOCCCCCCC!” you yell in excitement. “KIDDDDDDD,” you hear in response over the running motor.
“Doc, come here. Put this thing in park and come give me a hug.”
Normally not a huge hug guy, which you can relate to, Doc surprisingly obliges, walking to the back of the car as you join in an embrace.
“Good to see you, buddy,” you say as the hug wraps up. “We did it — again. We won the fucking Super Bowl!”
“You too, Kid,” Doc says. “What a run. Still doesn’t feel real. You’re looking good, man. I mean I can barely see you. It’s dark as all hell out here, but from this silhouette of you, you’re looking good.”
“Appreciate that, Doc,” you say while he settles back into the driver’s seat. “I’m glad we could make this work. Remind me again — what are you in town for? What brings you back from Arizona?”
Prior to answering, Doc adjusts a mirror and eases his foot off the break.
“Oh yeah. I got a buddy’s 60th birthday on Saturday. Still a bunch of friends in Philly from the shop and all.”
“Yeah, that’s cool, Doc,” you say. “And you drove in all the way here instead of flying? Damn, that’s impressive.”
“Yeah, Kid,” you know me. “I’m all about the road — Actually picked up a couple Lyft rides into New Mexico and Texas. Then basically got to Oklahoma and really started flooring it. Once I drop you off, I’m actually gonna head to one of the casinos. Do a little late night, early morning poker.”
“Hell yeah, Doc,” you say. “Man, poker. I don’t think I’ve played in close to a decade. I’d join you if I didn’t already have plans.”
Doc has a delayed response to this.
The floor it theme seems to really apply. You can’t glean much from looking out the window, but would guess based on the current speed that Doc has left multiple previously nearby cars in the dust.
“Yeah, what are you up to again, Kid? You got a baby now, huh? That’s great, Kid. You were pretty vague about what your plans are here though. You just told me that…actually hang on a second.”
You’re concerned there’s a problem as Doc’s dashboard lights up, but he seems unfazed. You know nothing about car technology over the past decade, so the fact that he’s not panicked gives you some reassurance.
“Hello,” you hear Doc say. He repeats this three times. There appears to only be white noise through the car speakers. Even with not much traffic at night, you appreciate Doc using a hands-free device.
“I’ve been getting these random calls,” Doc says. “Gotta get that figured out. So what’s going on, Kid? Tell me everything.”
“Yeah, Doc,” you say. “I’m alive, and I definitely think the high of the Super Bowl run sustained me at times. Occasionally, I feel like I have everything figured out. Most days, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, and I feel like everything is on fire.
There ain’t nothing better than being a Dad.
It’s exhausting, but it’s the best, but yeah, man, super overwhelmed.”
“Good for you, Kid,” Doc says. “So what you think in terms of the Birds? Are we going back or is there gonna be another one of these hangovers or whatever they call it? What’chu think of how they looked tonight?”
Sometimes conversation can correlate with carsickness for you, but you feel well enough right now to continue talking.
“Yeah, Doc, I’ll answer your second question first. I…you know… obviously I watch the preseason games obsessively, but sometimes by the end, it’s brutal football. I make notes on the bottom part of the roster and some practice squad ideas, but I hesitate to draw massive conclusions from it.”
“Yeah,” Doc says, interjecting rather quickly. “I had Merrill on while driving to get you, and seemed like Tanner [McKee] lit it up, but he and Mike seemed pretty over it by the final whistle.”
“Now there’s two people who don’t need training camp,” you respond back with a laugh. “They know exactly what they’re doing.
Yeah, man, the facts are the facts. We’re trying to do something that’s proven to statistically be highly, highly difficult, but compared to the other three Eagles teams I’ve studied coming off the Super Bowl, it’s far and away the best returning roster.
There’s some things that will keep me up at night. Is the pass rush deep enough? I think last year was a good lesson for everyone — me included — that there’s multiple ways to skin a cat on defense. For so many years between Jim Schwartz, Jonathan Gannon, I had trained my brain to really rely on edge rushers, and last year with Vic was real proof of concept that if you’re strong at defensive tackle, linebacker, corners, and safeties that you can make it work.
Plus I do think Nolan and Jalyx are gonna have big years and Azeez [Ojulari] too. You want a bold prediction Doc? I’ll say that Azeez ends the season with more sacks than Sweaty. Don’t tell him I said that if you run into him when you’re back in Arizona.
Some of that secondary may be a work in progress early on, but we’re a really good team overall.
The offense? Returning 10 of 11 starters. Obviously if one chain breaks on the line, then everything can break, but whether it’s Tyler [Steen], Trevor [Keegan], or Kenyon [Green], we’ll trust Stout to get it figured out. Certainly I’m nervous about the brain drain from losing Kellen and Doug [Nussmeier], but I think having gone back and taken down the Chiefs and Mahomes will be a massive weight off Jalen’s shoulders.
He’s not gonna change who he is, but my hope is that scaling the mountain will allow him to play more freely at times and realize that he doesn’t have to try to win the Super Bowl on every play. I think he’s in for an incredible year.
I haven’t talked to Nick since the Super Bowl, but just from what I’ve heard with the public messaging, I don’t get a sense of complacency at all. I’ll be honest. I was actually hoping he was gonna lean into defending the title a bit, and it seems like the go-to idea is more so ‘We ain’t defending shit. This is a completely new year.’
Chapter 4: Midnight City
Friday, August 8th, 12:01 am ET
It is officially past midnight on the east coast. That means the season opener against Dallas is now only 27 days away as opposed to 28.
You could ask who’s counting, but that would be a rather ironic rhetorical question because you in fact have been counting ever since Memorial Day marked 100 days out.
“Surprised you haven’t talked to Nick,” Doc says in a tone that reflects the first word of what he said.
You go to answer, but Doc continues before you do. “Like that’s your guy. Not even a call or a text or nothing?”
“I told Howie to congratulate him for me, and I may have ended up texting him on my own a couple weeks after the Super Bowl and I believe he responded. I’d look, but I just want to be mindful of phone battery even with some chargers, but dude, I honestly suck at texting right now, but I also don’t hate that I suck at texting.
Having an infant has just taken me so out of it. A lot of my draft prep was last minute, and I just watched so much less college football than usual last fall. I was cool with the [Jihaad] Campbell pick once I started doing more research after the fact, don’t get me wrong, but time just consistently feels rushed.
This is either a great or terrible metaphor, but it’s not like football where the clock stops after an incomplete pass. It’s just constant.”
“Let’s see the kid, Kid,” Doc says. “The spam phone call made me forget to ask before. I know you’re not trying to use your phone too much, but gimme a quick picture.”
Doc flicks on a light inside the car. Even with said light removing some of the pitch black, you’re confused how to go about this given Doc is pushing close to 90 mph on a major highway.
“Here,” says Doc. “Just pull up a picture and hold your phone up. I’ll see it in the mirror.”
You’re skeptical that this can work but have generally learned to trust Doc.
“Sure Doc, here you go,” you say while attempting to properly angle the phone where the mirror picks something up. “This is Noah.”
“That’s awesome, Kid,” Doc says. “Got him in the Eagles gear already. Absolutely wild that he won a Super Bowl in his first year.”
“102 days, Doc,” you say. “102 Days. Took me nearly 10,000. 9,987 to be exact.”
“Shit,” says Doc. “I don’t even want to know what the number was for me. Hey kid, I don’t know what you got planned here, but if you want to doze off, go for it. I know where I’m supposed to take you.”
A quick look at your phone now says it’s 12:14 am.
“Yeah, appreciate that,” you say. “How far away would you guess we are, Doc?”
“Well, Kid, you’re lucky you got an experienced driver. This drive is a bit of a hike, but I’ve been making good time. My guess is that I can drop you off shortly before 1 am.”
Not in a bad way, but Doc’s estimate catches you off guard. This is earlier than you were expecting.
“Sounds good, Doc,” you say with a hint of a yawn. “Yeah, I don’t know how much I’ll actually sleep, but I may give it a try.”
You polish off one of your water bottles and attempt to close your eyes.
Chapter 5: Cheeseburger In Paradise
Friday, August 8th, 12:40 am ET
A sudden stop of the car startles you awake. You look out the window and see some bright lights, but this is not the scene you expected.
“What going on, Doc?” you ask as you locate your phone which had fallen from the seat next to you onto the floor of the car.
“I wanted to fill up a full tank, and I’m gonna go inside and grab a coffee. You want anything, Kid? Sit in the car. I got it.”
A closer inspection of your surroundings reveals the familiar and comforting sight of a Wawa. This is reassuring.
“Oh man, Doc,” you say. “I don’t think I’ve been inside a Wawa in over a year. You know what? I did always enjoy their Mac & Cheese. Get me a medium if you don’t mind. Thanks, Doc!”
Doc emerges no more than a few minutes later and hands you a piping hot bowl along with a bag containing a fork and some napkins.
“Enjoy, Kid,” Doc says as he starts up the car again. “We might hit a little road work, but I’d say we’re less than 25 minutes out.”
Even in the middle of the night, those few minutes without air conditioning were a bit rough in the summer heat.
“Man, I almost forgot how good this is,” you say as you take a forkful of Mac & Cheese while re-fastening your seatbelt.
The short nap you had will need to suffice. You had worse during the first few months of being a parent.
It’s almost go time.
“Enjoy, Kid,” Doc says as he starts up the car again. “We might hit a little road work, but I’d say we’re less than 25 minutes out.”
Even in the middle of the night, those few minutes without air conditioning were a bit rough in the summer heat.
“Man, I almost forgot how good this is,” you say as you take a forkful of Mac & Cheese while re-fastening your seatbelt.
The short nap you had will need to suffice. You had worse during the first few months of being a parent.
It’s almost go time.
Chapter 6: I’ll Be There For You
Friday, August 8th, 1:03 am ET
“Alright, Broad St. Bullies bar sign,” says Doc while pulling off to the right side of the road. “Xfinity Live. This is what you wanted, right?”
The few minutes of silence leaving Wawa followed by another familiar sight has given you a new burst of energy. Stadium lights illuminate in the distance, but the outside crowd seems relatively sparse. A few folks can be spotted walking around the surrounding area, but foot traffic is low.
For a regular season game, this would not be the case, but the reduced traffic and general relaxed vibe of preseason football has left a quiet scene two hours removed from the final whistle.
“You’re the man, Doc,” you say. “I’d ask if you want to hang around for a bit, but I don’t want to hold you up from winning some poker money. Those folks at the table don’t know what’s about to hit them.”
“Good to see you, Kid,” says Doc. “I’d say this is an odd place to be dropped off past 1 am on a random Thursday night or I guess Friday morning in August, but you’ve done weirder. My best to you and your family.
Let’s not go almost two years without seeing each other again.”
Understandably not wanting to get out of the car again, Doc turns around in the driver’s seat and extends his hand for a shake.
“Arizona next season,” says Doc. “The Birds will be out there. I know you don’t like that stadium, but you gotta come out.”
“Look at you, Doc,” you say while reaching out your hand to meet his. “On top of future schedules. I love it.
Let’s keep being great.”
Chapter 7: Police On My Back
Friday, August 8th, 1:09 am ET
Doc’s car speeds off and slowly fades out of your view. You cross the street, now standing directly at the intersection of 11th and Pattison with the street signs hanging over you.
From experience, you figured where Doc dropped you off would be easier for him. You check your phone for any texts. There’s nothing new, but as far as you know, your plan is still on.
A police officer directing the small amount of residual traffic from the game may have other ideas as he leaves his post and approaches you, using his flashlight as a guide.
“Officer,” you say, with a slight nod, figuring taking the initiative will make it clear that you have nothing to hide.
“Saw you standing over here by yourself and thought it was kinda weird. Just wanted to make sure you’re not lost.”
You’d need way more time to address the weird comment than you want to spend right now.
“Oh yeah, all good, sir,” you say. “In from out of town, just waiting to get an Uber back to my hotel.”
A partial white lie that isn’t entirely untrue won’t hurt anyone here.
“Got it,” the cop says in response while beginning to walk back towards the street.
That was close but ultimately seems like no harm done.
You look across the street to your right. The Linc is still lit up from the game. You can’t be certain, but you’re pretty sure some Bengals team buses just passed by.
Moving around seems better than standing still in one spot right now. You walk an uneventful lap around the stadium and return to your exact same spot.
Chapter 8: With A Little Help From My Friends
Friday, August 8th, 1:25 am ET
The policeman appears to have departed as you see neither he nor his vehicle following the walk.
The Bengals leaving was hopefully a good sign for you that things are wrapping up.
You’re proven correct a few minutes later when the man you’re looking for approaches from the corner.
“NICK!” you yell in excitement that seems to take another pedestrian walking to their car aback.
“What’s up, man!” Nick says, not quite as loud as you but in an enthusiastic voice nonetheless.
“Dude, give me a fucking hug!” you say. “We won the fucking Super Bowl. I can’t believe we didn’t see each other until now, but I appreciate Big Dom setting this up. We did it! Hey man, I know it will officially be the 6-month anniversary tomorrow, and that you’re already onto this year, but we fucking did it, man. You did it. I am so pumped for you.”
The hug feels like it lasts a good 40 seconds.
“I appreciate it, man,” Nick says. “It wasn’t just me though. You know I always say that we can’t be great without the greatness of others.”
“I may have heard you say that once or twice,” you say. “This is the part where I would wink if I knew how to wink, but I don’t know how to wink.”
Nick seems unsure what exactly to do with that last part — understandably so — and builds off his original point.
“I mean it though,” Nick reiterates. “So many folks contributed to it. Yourself included.”
The good kind of chill rushes through you and all you can mange for a second is a “Thank you, Nick. That means a lot.”
“You wanna talk in my office?” asks Nick. “This was a pretty weird place for us to meet.”
“We can talk here,” you answer quickly.
“Alright,” Nick says. “Just, do you mind if I ask why? I mean standing across from the stadium at like 1:30 am. We’re not in Central Park anymore.”
“Was that an attempt at a Wizard of Oz reference?” you ask. “But in all seriousness,” you quickly add, “Yes, I can get into the significance of why I picked this spot as we talk.”
“So what you think? How was it in there? How’d we look?” Nick asks.
This being an initial question takes you by surprise.
“Oh I didn’t go to the game, Nick,” you clarify. “Watched it at home then got a ride here. I went to one preseason game in 2015 and pretty much said I’m never doing this again. Don’t get me wrong. I know it’s some folks’ one chance to see the team in person. Nothing wrong with it, but I prefer to watch August football on TV.
Dude, I know you just coached a football game and aren’t too into reflecting on the past, but can we just take a moment to appreciate last year?
You. You guys. We. We annihilated a dynasty. Screw 40–22. We won that game 40–6 or 34–0 if you will, and everyone knows it. It was a beatdown.
Nick, you went 16–1 in the final 17 games. The one game you lost was on the final play, and it was when Jalen had a concussion and Chauncey got ejected.
It was a coaching, playing, roster building masterclass. I know you love football history. I think it’s the second best team of the salary cap era behind the 2013 Seahawks, and you’d find some people who’d say we’d beat them head-to-head.
I know the Rams game was close with the snow, but you dominated EVERYBODY.”
You go from fired up to choked up rather quickly.
“I got to watch my favorite team win a Super Bowl with my son when he was only 102 days old. Winning is all he knows. That’s…”
“That’s incredible, man,” Nick says. You had a lot more to add but should have anticipated this was coming. “Let me see a picture.”
“Here you go,” you say while holding out your phone. “It’s just so damn dark out. I don’t know how well you can see.”
Nick thinks quickly to use the light on his phone. “He seems like a happy dude,” says Nick while turning the light off and handing you back your phone after swiping through a few pictures.
“Yeah, he’s a good baby,” you say.
“So how’s it going with all that?” Nick asks. “I mean the life of a football coach is obviously different, but I know what it’s like to have young kids and all and how stressful it can feel.”
You take a quick sip of water before answering.
“Yeah, it’s…I’ll make an Eagles analogy,” you say. “Some days I think I’m locked in and have everything figured out like you guys in the NFC Championship Game and Super Bowl. Other days it’s…I’ll use last year’s Jags game as an example. I didn’t think you coached a great game that day and felt we played sloppily. There were a lot of random mistakes, but you know what, you were prepared. You scored first. We won, and there’s days where I feel like I have absolutely no fucking idea what I’m doing, but then when he goes to bed at night, I can look back, and say that we kept the baby alive, we kept ourselves alive, and sometimes that just has to be good enough, and then going forward you try to correct what happened to get back to the point of dominating a dynasty in the Super Bowl.”
“The Jaguars game,” Nick says. “Is that when you started to feel it? Is that when you kinda knew that something was happening?”
You’re glad that this got Nick in a bit more of a reflective mood as opposed to just immediately starting with the season ahead.
“You know, I think objectively, I would probably point to the Ravens game to open December. That was a quality Baltimore team. I had a bunch of good friends there that day. Tough, physical opponent. We go down 9–0. At that point we had won seven straight.
It would have been easy to just say it wasn’t our day, and then midway through the fourth quarter, Saquon breaks off that run, Cooper has the big tackle on Derrick Henry, and we went from a two-score deficit to leaving no doubt that we were winning the game.
That one was cool, but you see, I would say while that was impressive, the Jags one is special to me. My son was born Halloween morning — so the Thursday before the game. We were still in the hospital, so that was the first game he ever ‘saw,’ and everything’s going smoothly, right? 16–0 lead at halftime. 22–0 lead midway through the third quarter.
The Jags get on the board and convert a two-point conversion (very on brand for Doug), but no big deal. Still up 14, and then the Saquon fumble happens, which I didn’t think was actually a fumble, but then it just feels like everything broke. AJ’s banged up, and it’s a one possession game.
Jalen and DeVonta connect on that unbelievable touchdown, but it feels like there’s no room to breathe when the Jags score quickly again, and when they get the ball back and they’re driving down 28–23 — I suppose in retrospect it’s kinda similar to the Rams playoff game, just lower stakes, but the stakes felt high for me — and I’m just thinking ‘Not like this. Not like this. Please, not like this.’
If it was just a bad day and we got blown out, then I could have lived with that, but losing this type of lead cannot be his introduction to Eagles football. Can’t happen.
And you know me, I love a good wheel route, but I’m still surprised Trevor went to the end zone like that on first down, and I see Nakobe right there — obviously hope the rehab’s going well — and I remember, mind you, there’s a good chance this had already happened in real time a minute prior.
I’m watching on a YouTube TV stream on my laptop in a hospital room, and the ball’s going right to Nakobe, and I remember checking to make sure he got both feet in, making sure there’s no phantom PI call, and I just absolutely lost it and forgot where I was for a second.
I can’t even recall what I yelled. I just know a nurse came running in thinking something was wrong, almost broke down the door, and I was just like:
‘I’m SO sorry. That’s my fault. Everything’s good.’
So yeah, to a lot of people, the conclusion from that game was that we were probably fortunate to hang on and that it felt like 2023, and that’s completely fair.
I just know for me in addition to the personal stuff, it was a sign that the team was different than the year prior, especially when the mic’d up came out with Nakobe and [safeties coach] Joe Kasper. The preparation. The intestinal fortitude.
My buddy Justin texted me, and I still — nine months later — think about this string of text messages if I ever get down.
After the Jags game, it just felt like everything took off. The tweets. McAfee a week later.
Obviously it wasn’t this casual, but it was the vibe of ‘The Eagles are fun again,’ and sometimes when that’s the feeling and a current’s beginning to gain strength and turn into a tidal wave, you just feel it.
We felt it, and we made our opponents feel it.”
“I try not to give too much attention to that stuff, but obviously everyone watches McAfee in some form,” Nick says with a smile. “That was super cool.”
“What’s funny about that,” you say with a chuckle, “is that the McAfee segment was during our first pediatrician appointment. I got my Notes app open. I’m supposed to read a million questions off my phone and write down the answers, and I had to pause for a second, I’m trying to swipe away all these notifications so I can actually see the note, and Jaime understandably is confused, and I didn’t even fully know what was happening yet, I was just like ‘For some reason my phone’s blowing up, and I can’t see the questions.”
“Wait, that’s incredible,” says Nick. “I love that so much.”
“Just an all-time run,” you say. “By the way, I know you don’t care, but just to swing it back to the Jags game one final time, I’d be shocked if we ever see Doug in the NFL again.”
“I have only respect for Coach Pederson,” Nick says. “He was very friendly the couple times we spoke after games.”
“Oh yeah, I don’t doubt that,” you say. “It’s just. He’s not gonna get another head coaching job after Jacksonville went poorly that quickly. He doesn’t love this enough to be a coordinator, and I don’t blame him.
He’s got a great life ahead of him in terms of fishing, maybe coaching high school, but we won’t see him in the NFL again.”
“I hear you,” Nick says.
“And I’m here, Nick, we’re here, to make sure that what happened to Doug does not happen to you. I’m not doing 2018 through 2020 again.
It wasn’t all bad. December in the first two years was actually super fun, but none of it was up to the standard. We’re in a new stratosphere now. History’s not repeating itself again.”
Chapter 9: Taco Grande
Friday, August 8th, 2:01 am ET
Nick takes a quick look at his phone, which makes you feel comfortable to spend a moment on yours.
“Good segue from Doug. He was known to love ice cream. I’m gonna order us tacos,” you say rather matter-of-factly.
“You want anything, Nick?”
“Wait, WHAT?!?!” Nick exclaims. “Is this a TV show spoof? Am I being punked? You have this wayyyy too planned out for it to be totally random. What’s the significance of all this?”
You figure that you can’t keep this up any longer.
“Alright, I’ll tell you,” you say. “I promise, but for real, do you want any tacos? I just want to get the order in because I don’t know what time they close. I’m ordering from a place called Eatlamex Burritos, but don’t let the name fool you. Tacos are the move.”
“That’s alright,” Nick says. “I don’t need anything.”
You’re not gonna belabor this point too much more.
“All good, Nick,” you say. “I’m gonna get a couple extra in case you decide you want to try one.”
“So what does this all mean?” Nick presses. “Before we go any further — why are we standing outside at 2 am, you about to eat tacos, when I have a state-of-the-art office 600 yards away?”
“You want the full story?” you ask.
“At this point, yes,” Nick says.
“So last year I went to the Falcons game, and we’re not gonna talk about the end of that game, but that was the first home loss I had witnessed live since 2021, so I walk out of the stadium, which of course sounded and felt like a morgue, and I obviously have to wait for the traffic to let out to get an Uber or Lyft back to my hotel.
So I’m standing right here just obviously incredibly pissed off, buried in my phone, still not sure what the hell just happened, and this is a side note and not the main story, but I remember I texted my friend Ryan who I manage a Fantasy Baseball team with. Two weeks left in the season, we’re trying to protect a lead, and Andrew Benintendi, who was a part-time player for us, had hit two home runs that night, and I couldn’t remember if I put him in our lineup or not since I just set the lineup super quickly and then immediately shifted focus to the Eagles and never looked again, and I texted him and said verbatim:
‘Please tell me I put Benintendi in the lineup, or I’m gonna straight up walk into Linc traffic right now’
He was in the lineup. We won the championship. It’s all good, but back to the main point, so I’m standing there, I got mobile chargers and cords dangling out of my pocket trying to charge up my phone, and a random guy approaches me — male, probably in his mid-twenties — and tells me his phone’s dead. He flew up from North Carolina for his first ever Eagles game, and he asks if he can use one of my chargers so he can get a car back to his hotel.
Now remember, I’m in a terrible mood, but I basically said ‘Sure. I’ll probably be here for at least another hour. You can use it for as long as you need during that time. I just need you to stay in this area.’
You know. Friendly but also a little guarded making sure someone isn’t about to run off with my chargers. He assures me he’ll stay right here. I hand over the charger, and…”
“Incredibly nice of you to help a stranger out like that,” says Nick. “Especially as you said, given the circumstances of everything that transpired.”
“Yeah, obviously I wasn’t in a good mood, but my wife was approaching eight months pregnant, and I just thought if my son is in an unfamiliar city in his 20s and his phone is dead, I would want someone to help him out if he asked, so I should do it first.”
“Leading by example,” says Nick. “There you go.”
“Yeah, so we got to talking for a while, breaking down the end of the game, talking about the team in general, and this guy knew his shit. Probably talked for close to 90 minutes until the traffic died down. We started following each other on Twitter, where we would keep in touch a bit throughout the season.
I’m in a terrible mood for the next 24 hours and honestly probably until Reed picked off Derek Carr to seal the Saints game, but that interaction and that chance encounter were nice things to come out of a terrible night.”
You take a breath and glance at your phone to check on the ETA for the food.
“So how do the tacos factor in?” asks Nick. “What’s the deal there?”
You begin talking again after a quick sip of water.
“Yeah, so I’ve been following this routine — game, wait for traffic to die down, car, hotel going back to the 2023 season, and this was the first time dealing with a loss. 4–0 prior to that, and actually five if you count a Phillies — Braves playoff game, and each time, I would order what I would call ‘Victory tacos’ to the hotel, and I was in such a terrible mood that I was like fuck it, I’m still getting tacos. Here’s a picture from when we beat the Vikings in 2023.
Now back to last year, I probably slept maybe two hours total and was angry as all hell while doing it, but the tacos were clutch, and they’re about to be again. Should be here soon.”
Chapter 10: We Are The Champions
Friday, August 8th, 2:22 am ET
Still waiting on the food, you decide that you might as well take advantage of the time.
“Camp vibes good?” you ask. “They seem it from the outside, but obviously I’m living vicariously through you and not literally living it every day.”
“Guys are working hard,” says Nick with a nod to acknowledge what you said. “You know my line that I coined last year. ‘I’m boring.’ One day at a time. Like Jalen would say — All this praise, these expectations. That’s rat poison. We haven’t done anything yet. Haven’t won anything yet.”
The timing prompted a laugh out of you here.
“Rat poison wasn’t exactly what I wanted to here before eating, but you and Jalen, man,” you say. “You two.”
“What about us?” Nick asks. “That’s my guy right there.”
“Oh I know,” you say. “Kindred spirits. You guys always were. It just took you a few years to fully realize it. It almost reminds me of the state fair scene in Sweet Home Alabama where one of the friends looks at Jake and Melanie and is like ‘Why do they fight it?’
You guys both love football and love winning, and that’s why I’m not doing 2018–2020 again. You’re not writing a book. Jalen’s healthy. The infrastructure is there.
I actually don’t know if I agree with all the messaging, but it’s clearly working.”
This has piqued Nick’s curiosity as he asks “What don’t you agree with?”
“It’s easy for me to say this as a fan,” you say. “It’s harder for coaches and players to get behind, but I wouldn’t have hated leaning a little more into the idea of trying to repeat. Like I know you’re preaching that the celebration is over, but the way we view it is that we’re defending Super Bowl Champions, and someone else has to wrestle it away from us.
Your point of view is ultimately what’s healthiest for the team, but here, here’s an example. You remember last year when we talked a little about UConn Basketball because they had just repeated — different sport, collegiate level and not the pros so not apples to apples and…”
“I remember,” Nick says with a smile. “I don’t know if ‘a little’ is accurate though. You went on about them for a good while. I still remember you talking about Andre Jackson.”
“That’s fair. That’s fair,” you say. “Well, Dan Hurley, absolute psychopath, and I mean that as an ultimate compliment, he had a thing during the repeat season that his thing was before practice started every day, he had to try and make two consecutive half-court shots, and the whole ethos was ‘We’re trying to do something that’s incredibly difficult, that’s rarely done, so each day, I have to try to do this thing that’s also incredibly difficult.
I don’t know if I explained it as well as I could have. I’m usually trying to sleep at this time, but hopefully that made some sense.”
“Yeah, it does,” says Nick. “We’re not gonna use that method, but it’s really creative and it clearly worked for him and them. I respect it.”
“Yeah, I’m not trying to force it upon you,” you say. “Just wanted to give you another perspective.
From the looks of things, you guys seem ready. I was just honest with you about the messaging, so you know I wouldn’t say you seem prepared if I didn’t think it.
We always go through the schedule, so we can go through some of the schedule.
Actually give me a minute here. I got a missed call, and I’m assuming it’s our food because no one else calls me on my cell phone at this time.”
You dial the number back. The call was from only one minute ago, so you’re not particularly concerned about the delivery person leaving without finding you.
“Hi sir, over here,” you say. “11th and Pattison. I know it’s hard to see me. I’ll walk to the corner and wave an Eagles Super Bowl hat in the air. You probably can’t see the hat, but that’s okay. Here, I’ll stay on the phone to make sure you can find me.”
By this point, there’s fewer and fewer cars going by, so this shouldn’t be an issue for either of you.
The fresh smell of three pollo asado tacos greets you less than 30 seconds later as the delivery man fully rolls down his windows and extends a bag towards you.
“Thank you, sir. Go Birds,” you say while taking the bag in your possession.
“Go Birds,” he replies before quickly speeding off into the darkness.
Chapter 11: Time After Time
Friday, August 8th, 2:33 am ET
“Here, I got a water for you,” you say to Nick, opening the bag with one hand and extending the bottle in Nick’s direction with the other.
“Preciate that,” says Nick.
Not wanting to risk the prime attraction getting cold, you open the styrofoam container, successfully separate one of the tacos from the other remaining two, and go in for a bite.
“So fucking good,” you say. “Tastes way better than last September. You sure you don’t wanna try this?”
“I’m all good,” says Nick. “My staff and I had a little pizza after the game.”
“Alright,” you say. “Well, I feel bad you’re just standing here watching me eat. We can get into the schedule.”
“Schedule’s your thing,” Nick says, nodding back in your direction. “Right now, I’m focused on camp, and then we’ll be focused on Dallas with Week 1. I don’t even know who we play after that.”
You sense this is a lie considering there’s a Week 2 Super Bowl rematch in Kansas City but can understand the bigger point.
“Yeah, so we’ll get more into Banner Night once we go through the full thing, but I think…it’s weird, man. That’s the best way I can describe it. It’s a weird schedule.
I really thought it was gonna be the Lions or the Rams coming here on Banner Night, and the more I thought about it, I was kinda hoping for the Lions since the national media’s favorite coach — Dan Campbell — is breaking in two new coordinators. Was hoping to get them early, but it’s alright.
So there’s not a gauntlet like 2023, but there’s not a lot of breaks either. Both Giants games should be meant to serve as softballs, but that first one is on a short week on Thursday.
Now look, I think the Cowboys could be a disaster waiting to happen, but we typically don’t play great down there, and that isn’t until right before Thanksgiving following a tough stretch coming off the bye.
Some might think the Raiders are a soft spot in December right before we go into the final turn with those two Commanders games sandwiched between Buffalo, but the Raiders, is also on a short week where we’ll be flying back from Los Angeles after a Monday Night affair.
Here’s what I’m gonna tell you, Nick.
“I know. I know,” Nick laughs. “You tell me every year. You don’t go on the record until right before the season.”
“Yes, but no. I mean yes, but I wasn’t referring to that here,” you say. “What I was gonna tell you is that I think right out of the gates could be a pocket to rip off a big winning streak.”
“So pretty much your other go-to line,” Nick says in a tongue-in-cheek manner.
Nick is really on a roll here as you polish off the first taco and cool your mouth with some water.
“I for real think it’s significant though,” you say, attempting to push back. “The years we’ve been to the Super Bowl, think about it. Eight-game winning streak in 2022. Ten-game winning streak last year.
Even before you. Ten-game winning streak again in 2017. Seven in 2004. When the Eagles are about to make a run, you know. We know. Everyone knows. It’s not a sneak in and get hot situation. We play stretches of dominant football, and more often that not, last year being a bit of an exception, we shoot out of a cannon.
I think we have a path to do it. The Chiefs and the Rams — two revenge games for the opponent, and we can admit that Tampa has been our Kryptonite, but if we can come out of that quarter turn unscathed and in good shape, I think there’s a pocket there.
The Broncos coming here in Week 5, I don’t think they’re that good — at least not as good as the national media seems to think they are. Then we got the Giants, Minnesota with a rookie quarterback, Giants sandwich.
People might say the Packers coming out of the bye is a revenge game for them, but man, I think you guys are gonna be so fired up to play in Lambeau that night after what they tried to do to the Tush Push.”
Even amidst the pitch black outside, this one got a smile out of Nick.
“Detroit,” you continue. “That’s a tough one knowing they may be more settled at that point with the new assistants, then after Dallas, we got Chicago on Black Friday. We should win the game, but there’s always a surprise team in the conference, and it definitely wouldn’t shock me if it was the Bears.
Chargers out on Monday Night is cool. Great coaching matchup, it’s getting to be now or never time for the quarterback, but they’re one of the few squads that I think can come close to matching our toughness and physicality.
Then the Raiders back at The Linc before the homestretch Washington sandwich. I know I alluded to it earlier, but the Raiders are SO intriguing to me. Pete Carroll at the helm. Chip’s homecoming as the OC. If the AFC wasn’t so loaded, I think they could be a surprise playoff team, but that conference is just stacked.
I kinda think it might be Baltimore’s year in the AFC. Feels to me like the Chiefs are primed for a small step back, and Lamar has to break through, but we’ll see there.
Ooo should we call Chip?” you ask while picking up the second taco.
“That’s your decision,” Nick says rather casually. “He’s your friend. I don’t know him. Just feels a little weird to call someone at 3 am, and this is coming from someone who works an unpredictable schedule.”
“It’s only before midnight on the west coast,” you say. “I got it.”
Chapter 12: 867–5309/Jenny
Friday, August 8th, 2:52 am ET
his is where being an infrequent user of FaceTime benefits you. Outside of a couple celebratory calls immediately following the Super Bowl, there’s not a long log, so you’re able to quickly scroll to when Chip called you last summer and dial it back.
“Honestly, you did make a good point now that I think about it. The chances he answers are super low,” you say. “About as likely as you hiring Matt Patricia for a job again. Chip was always a big early to sleep guy.”
You count the number of rings in your head. Once it reaches nine you realize it’s not happening.
“It was worth a try,” you say to Nick. “We can keep moving.”
Chapter 13: Our Lives
Friday, August 8th, 3:03 am ET
ou let out a quick yawn while fidgeting with your phone. It’s been a bit of time since you voluntarily saw 3 am.
“I ain’t trying to be annoying, but you sure you don’t want the final taco?” you ask.
“You don’t seem like you’re giving up on this,” answers Nick. “Hand me the damn taco. I will take a small bite.”
“There we gooo,” you say, while passing the container Nick’s way.
“It’s good,” Nick says following a quick chew. “Nice flavor.”
You also take a final bite of the remaining taco you’re holding, catching a stray lime before it falls on the ground.
“Back to before, it’s a weird schedule, but we should be in great shape to win a lot of games.”
“So people are gonna be pretty excited in a few weeks here?” Nick asks.
You assume he’s referring to opening night and run with it, figuring he’ll stop you if that’s not the case.
“Oh it’s gonna be unbelievable,” you say. “Especially the extra juice with the Cowboys being here having to watch us raise a banner in front of them.
When I think about it, Nick. there’s been two times in my life so far when teams opened a season coming off a championship, and I’m not counting Penn State Women’s Volleyball or UConn Basketball in this.
There was the 2009 Phillies coming off their championship, and then 2018, and I’d say both times, it was…odd.
“MLB, they don’t do it like here. They have to make the schedule ahead of time, so it wasn’t a guarantee that the Phils would even be home to start, but we were, so they gave us the Sunday Night treatment — christened the new league year.
Brett Myers served up three home runs to the first eight Braves batters. Lost 4–1. It was a real dud.
Then Banner Night in 2018 — I told you a little about this in summer 2021. The lightning strike that resulted in a delay, which resulted in the whole ceremony feeling rushed because they had to get the game started.
We did win, but there were some weird vibes around that team. We didn’t know who was gonna start at quarterback until a few days before, and it was more of an exhale situation than anything. In a vacuum, that’s okay. Week 1 is ultimately just about winning, it doesn’t have to be pretty, but yeah, I think fans are gonna be on another level that day and night.
I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going yet or not. I was there in 2018 but still figuring out my schedule.”
Nick looks your way while asking “You weren’t at the playoffs games, right?”
“That’s right,” you say. “Watched it all on TV. By the time we reached the NFC Championship Game, it wasn’t even necessarily just having a newborn, but I started to get in my head that I was gonna jinx myself since the only game I had been at was that Week 2 Falcons game.
But trust me, I was locked in — Nailing some predictions, providing the stats.
Can you believe it, man? Can you believe we’re here? Remember the Central Park bike ride last summer?”
This got a full on cackle out of Nick.
“I do,” Nick says.
You literally yelled at me to ‘PUT YOUR PUSSY ON THE TABLE AND RIDE THE FUCKING BIKE.’”
“Most of the time people need to be built up,” says Nick. “That was a rare case where you needed to be yelled at. I knew you had that in you, just needed to hear it in a different way.”
“Oh I could totally do it even better now,” you add. “Got in the gym and in wayyyy better shape now.”
“You look A LOT slimmer,” Nick says. “Fuck yeah, man.”
Nick extends his hand out for a fist bump. You oblige and proceed to put the taco container in the plastic bag that accompanied it.”
“Appreciate that, Nick,” you say. “I honestly don’t pay attention to that. I don’t weigh myself, just focus on the inputs and I know I feel good, but if I look in the mirror, I can see it, and I won’t say it doesn’t matter to me.”
“What do you mean by that?” Nick asks.
You realize how that sentence could have been confusing. Word salad isn’t abnormal at this hour, so you opt for an analogy.
“It’s like AJ’s speech at the parade,” you say. “‘You gonna get all those things wrong about me, but there’s one thing you can get right.
I’m a fucking champion.’
I ain’t fucking fat no more, so my haters can’t go around calling me fat. They’ll find something else, but that’s fake news. They can’t go to that well no more.”
You for approximately 30 seconds pace in a circle as a way to calm down after that moment fired you up.
Chapter 14: You Oughta Know
Friday, August 8th, 3:36 am ET
“Take what I’m about to say as a compliment,” says Nick.
You’re often unsure what to expect when someone qualifies an upcoming statement with that.
“Hit me,” you say.
“Your ability to find any sort of slight and use it as motivation reminds me in a way of Jalen. Obviously not close to that level but…”
“Absolutely not to be clear,” you say.
“But you really have a pattern of taking these insults and making people eat their words.”
Something dawns on you as you process what Nick says.
“That’s all I can do,” you say. “And you have this quality too.”
Nick looks at you, seemingly confused as to what you’re talking about.
“Oh yeah, don’t hide from it, Nick,” you say. “I heard you after the NFC Championship Game during your press conference — that little quip about ‘I didn’t bring my family up here.’
I fucking see you. I love it.
Live your truth. Live your pettiness.”
Nick is trying impressively hard to keep a straight face here.
“The whole discourse around that back in October was ridiculous by the way. Honestly, I think a lot of folks were mad about how the Phillies season ended and took it out on you bringing your kids to a press conference.
I really thought you were gonna cut it loose at the parade. I’m talking pull out all the receipts. I was so here for it and ready and was just waiting for you to go in, but you were pretty toned down with it.”
“Yeah, that was intentional,” Nick immediately says back. “I wanted to set a tone that was gonna keep us on track for 2025. Make the messaging clear from the very beginning.”
“I respect it but we win another one, and you gotta let it fly.”
“Easyyy,” Nick says. “Get ahold of yourself. Lock in.”
“You’re right. Hand up,” you say while quite literally putting your right hand in the air to signify the mistake. “I got a little carried away. That’s on me.”
Chapter 15: Walk On Water
Friday, August 8th, 3:47 am ET
You emerge from the concrete you had previously sat back down on and begin to survey the surrounding area.
“Nick, I’ll be back in a couple minutes,” you say while beginning to walk in the opposite direction.
“Where you going?” Nick shouts while still seated.
“Gonna go use one of those port-o-potties,” you say. “Drank a lot of water.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Nick says. “There’s a bathroom right in my office.”
You really don’t mind just walking into the parking lot and finding the closest port-o-potty but decide this isn’t worth going back and forth on.
“Alright, I’ll walk with you to your office, but I want to come back out here after.”
“Good with me,” Nick says with a nod.
You find the nearest trash can to dispose of the empty tacos bag and begin the brisk walk towards light and indoor plumbing.
Chapter 16: Island In The Sun
Friday, August 8th, 4:01 am ET
This area is a lot easier to walk through when maybe seven people are inhabiting it and not 70,000.
“You know, I’ve never been out here at this time. Even those night games, usually out by 2 am at the latest. It’s kinda peaceful in a way. One final chance to take everything in before shit gets real.”
Nick appears buried in his phone and doesn’t respond for another 10 seconds.
“Sorry,” he says. “Was texting Kevin about something from the game.”
He holds his phone up as you reach a door that immediately slides open.
“Bathroom’s the third door on the right. I’ll grab us a couple waters from my office.”
You manage a nod and head in the direction of the bathroom. After hours in Doc’s car followed by the time outside, the light felt blinding upon first coming into contact with your eyes.
“I’m good to head back out,” you say a minute later as Nick stands with three water bottles outside his office door.
“Wait, wait,” says Nick. You’re unsure where he’s going with this.
“I just noticed your shirt for the first time. What the hell does this mean?” asks Nick.
His tone gives off some mix of both intrigued and worried.
You attempt to think through how you’re gonna explain this.
“Ahhh, it’s… it’s a radio bit. You know how islands are isolated pieces of land?”
You repeat that back in your head. If it was socially acceptable to hit yourself in the face in front of another person, you would do so.
“I may have heard that once or twice,” Nick says, while trying to hold back laughter.
“Yeah, I probably could have articulated that better, but basically it’s meant to signify the minority of people who had your back after the Browns game in early October before it was cool to be a fan of you.
So if someone supported you at the time, they’d say that they were on ‘Sirianni Island,’ and honestly, I should probably make a T-shirt with you holding the Lombardi Trophy, but we’ve talked about this before, you mean mugging for the camera while decapitating the Giants in the playoffs is one of my favorite non-Super Bowl moments.
Another dude a week before the Super Bowl said something to the effect of ‘Listen, you know I ain’t on Nick Island, but I might send a postcard. He’s growing on me.’
So that’s the idea. It’s really not that deep, but it’s simultaneously the greatest thing ever.”
Chapter 17: The Spirit Of Radio
Friday, August 8th, 4:17 am ET
“I think I get it,” Nick says. “That’s super cool.”
The outside air hits your face as soon as Nick pushes open the door for you both. The humidity appears to have gone down slightly as you begin your walk through a mostly empty Lincoln Financial Field parking lot.
“I got to mention it on WIP on Super Bowl Sunday, so that was a highlight for me,” you say. “Had to commemorate it somehow.”
“Now I know about McAfee, but what you’re referring to right now, I haven’t heard or seen,” says Nick. “What was this exactly?”
This will be a fun one for you to detail.
“It was shortly after 10 am eastern that morning — I know you guys were an hour behind in New Orleans — on the Go Birds WIP pregame show. My guys — they kicked off the day, and I’ll just be blunt, right? Like, it’s the fucking Super Bowl.
That’s not really a day where you do stats or analysis or Xs and Os or anything. You get that all out of the way in the days before.
or a big chunk of the day, and I actually would go on to catch it on Monday, but that’s not important right now.
This is all just to say that I was exhausted, but I knew that if I nailed the call, then I would just run on adrenaline for the rest of the day and night, and I just tried to speak from the heart for a few minutes, and…you know what…
Let’s just listen to it. I actually haven’t listened to it in months. Give me a minute here. I’ll pull it up on my phone, and I’ll play it for you.”
“You got it,” says Nick while opening a water of his own.
You open Twitter on your phone and after a quick search that you’ve now memorized by heart pull open the video and quickly press the pause button before it begins. You make it a point to make sure the volume is turned all the way on the phone despite the mostly quiet area right now.
“There was actually a little more at the beginning, but this is the big monologue. You’ll know when we’re hitting the crescendo.”
For nearly three minutes, there is largely silence other than your voice from the morning of February 9th.
About two minutes in, you subtly make use of the flashlight feature on your phone so you can see Nick’s reaction when this concludes a minute later.
This proves to be a wise decision as he can’t hold back a smile and nod combination upon hearing:
‘…Because SIRIANNI ISLAND is about to throw THE BIGGEST RAGER THAT THIS FANBASE HAS EVER SEEN…’ followed by a thunderous ‘E-A-G-L-E-S’ chant.
“Fucking shit,” that was cool, Nick says, holding out his hand for a fist bump.
In the moment, you decide fuck it and just full on embrace him in a hug.
“You weren’t losing after that,” you say. “We weren’t losing. I’m not saying that had anything to do with it — just we weren’t losing.”
“Yeah, I’ve never heard your voice like that before in the times we’ve talked,” Nick says. “That had to feel good.”
“Stressful time between adjusting to life as a new parent, work, obviously the game, so yeah, I mean, we still had to play the game and nothing had been accomplished yet, but yeah, it was cathartic in a way.
Got shared all over social media, and I won’t lie to you, I read the comments. I’ve tried to get better about not engaging with negative comments, but most of these were positive and my favorite comment was…it got posted on WIP’s Facebook page and I’ll show you, someone wrote:
A lot of shit happened between February 4, 2018 and February 9, 2025. What was Terence Mann’s line in Field of Dreams? ‘America has rolled by like an army of steam rollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard. Rebuilt and erased again.’
The world chewed a lot of folks up during that time. Some unfortunately didn’t make it to the other side. Some did physically but maybe not emotionally.
For those who did in this region and fans of the team all around the world, the Eagles were a constant. Maybe not always with quality of play but in terms of being here in the fall and winter.
Now the best caller on the station far and away is this guy Rios. He does a pump up speech every Friday afternoon, and honestly, I’d consider playing them in the locker room. They’re that good. He talked before the Super Bowl about how you guys could save lives by winning the game.
I ain’t never gonna be Rios and I would never try to be. What that dude does is unbelievable, but that was really me leaving my mark on that Super Bowl in my own way.”
Chapter 18: Sicko Mode
Friday, August 8th, 4:41 am ET
“It really feels like having a platform to do that means a lot to you,” Nick says. “That’s awesome.”
At this point, the walk has nearly reached your origin point of the Xfinity Live intersection.
“Yes, and,” you say. “And I wouldn’t say just that. I think, you know, growing up, I had friends who liked the Eagles, but I didn’t necessarily have a group of people who obsessed over it on such a granular level.
So just having that community who cares as much as I do about whether Tristin McCollum or Andre Sam or Lewis Cine is gonna make it as a backup safety or if Trevor Keegan is gonna get the final backup offensive line spot over Darian Kinnard or Cameron Williams.
We invest our time, our energy, our mental health into this, and sure, there’s probably a lot of commentaries and thinkpieces out there about whether that is truly productive, but just to know you’re not on an island — no pun intended — is really comforting.
Like, well, this isn’t a great metaphor because I literally haven’t gone to sleep tonight, but had I done so, I would have awoken in the middle of the night concerned about what we’re gonna do at that second cornerback spot after the way Kelee [Ringo] and Adoree [Jackson] looked out there, and these people who call the show are awake right now trying to figure out that same exact shit.
I’m friends with plenty of people who don’t care about that stuff, and that’s totally fine, but also having friends who do — who don’t look at you like you have two heads when you bring something like that up — is really cool and fulfilling.
There was another cool element that I forgot to bring up about Super Bowl night though. So we had this night nurse helping with the baby, right.”
“I’m sure that was helpful,” says Nick.“It was,” you say. “But there was a slight problem. Now to be clear first and foremost, she was very good. Did a great job, but most nights, she would come in, throw her stuff on the couch, at times be walking in front of the TV, and I started picking up on this pattern and in my head was like ‘Hell no. This ain’t gonna work come Sunday.’”
“Oh man, I’m concerned about where this is going,” says Nick.
“So the Thursday before the game,” you say. “That night, I asked her to talk for a few minutes, and I’m paraphrasing, but I essentially said, ‘Outside of my son and my wife, there is nothing I love more in this world than the Philadelphia Eagles. They play in the Super Bowl on Sunday night. I have strategically rearranged furniture so you have a clear walking path to where you need to go without needing to go in front of the TV. You cannot use the couch that night, but a bed will be provided for you. There may be more noise than usual.’”
“That all sounds reasonable,” says Nick. “So how’d it go?”
“Yeah, Jaime, was definitely concerned about me scaring her. Now the message behind the message was ‘Put your asshole on the table and execute the plan,’ but I delivered it in an extremely calm manner.
She nodded along and said she understood. I proceeded to remind her Saturday night and Sunday morning.
I had zero confidence in her to actually execute the plan. I was convinced it was gonna be a complete disaster.
Nick, she executed the plan to perfection. Came in, went to work in another room, and I didn’t hear from her nor see her until the following morning. It could not have gone better, and I remain shocked that she did it, but she absolutely did it.”
You decide to spare Nick the telling of the throw up story and end on a good note.
“Let’s fucking go,” says Nick with a clap of his hands. “It all worked out.”
Chapter 19: The Sun Always Shines On TV
Friday, August 8th, 4:55 am ET
The sun won’t begin rising for another hour, but the tiredness is slowly giving way to a second wind as you pace around the quiet street corner.
“You watching anything good on TV?” Nick asks.
“That was a random as hell transition,” you say back with a laugh. “From CB2 concern to TV, alright.”
“Not really,” Nick immediately says back. “I feel like you make some movie or TV analogy every year. Wasn’t it The Breakfast Club last year?”
“Good memory,” you say.
“Tough. Detailed. Together. I paid attention to the details,” Nick says in a rather amused tone.
Chapter 20: I Can See Clearly Now
Friday, August 8th, 5:01 am ET
You wish you had more to give Nick here. The facts are that you do not, but you try to get creative on the spot. You’ve been trying to get better about that.
“Honestly, not much,” you say. “Just haven’t had time. Still haven’t finished 90210.”
“Shocking,” Nick says.
“Yeah, would be going onto our fourth football season now with it in progress. I really don’t have much else, except for…”
You’re debating if you actually want to share what’s on the tip of your tongue and decide to go for it.
“This probably doesn’t mean much to you, Nick, because you’re about 10 years older than me, so you were already in college at Mount Union by the time this show comes out, but I’ve found myself randomly if I just need to turn my brain off for a few minutes rewatching Lizzie McGuire clips on YouTube.”
Nick gives you a blank stare and looks at you as if you’re speaking another language.
“Childhood crush on Hilary Duff,” you say with a laugh.
“I know who that is. The show means absolutely nothing to me,” Nick answers.
“Not at all surprised,” you say. “It was a Disney channel show. I won’t get too into the details. I guess you could call it a comedy, but it had some real coming-of-age moments focusing on teenagers, and I just feel like we as a collective see stuff so differently based on where we’re at in life.
So the main character is…”
“Bingo,” you say with a quick finger point. “Now one of her best friends nicknamed Gordo, I think his last name was Gordon, and maybe about two thirds of the way through the second and final season, Gordo reveals to the audience that he likes his best friend ‘as more than a friend.’
And as a preteen at the time, it’s like this bombshell. Like whoa — Gordo likes Lizzie. Here, here’s the clip. It’s only like 90 seconds long. Let’s watch it.”
With the sound already turned up from before, you move closer to Nick and hold the phone out in front of him.
“Damn, that’s a heavy scene,” comments Nick. “What happened after that?”
“I think the show made a film in theaters, they kissed, but to be honest, I didn’t follow it too closely. I guess I had by that point maybe outgrown the show or just got busy with other stuff. There were talks of doing a reboot with the characters as adults maybe about six years ago back when you were still with Frank in Indy, but I don’t think it ever really got off the ground.”
“Gotcha, I could see my kids, maybe Taylor at least, being into a show like that when a little older.”
“It was a quality show,” you say. “The reason I bring it up though is that — and we won’t actually do this, I promise — but if you go back and watch clips from other episodes that aired before the one I showed you, the signs are so clear now.
He’s liked Lizzie the entire time, but you don’t see it that way as a child, and maybe that’s the beauty of it, that you’re not supposed to.
But I make the point to say that sometimes we can get so locked into something that we can’t see the forest through the trees. It can apply to game-planning, an in-game decision, messaging, so many things that go into football. Sometimes the answer can be right in front of you, but maybe you just don’t see it, and I don’t have a specific example here.
I think it can just show how perspective can really change over time. You’re not the same coach as you were a few years ago. Jalen’s not the same quarterback. DeVonta and AJ aren’t the same receivers, and that’s all a good thing.
We keep our core values…”
Nick’s face perks up after hearing that phrase.
“I know I’m speaking your language when I say core values,” you say. “We keep our core values, but we don’t stay the same. The people who stay exactly the same are the people who get lapped and fall behind.
That’s my biggest thing for you. Adversity is inevitably gonna strike at some point. As good as I think we are, it always does for a defending Super Bowl champion.
Make sure in those moments especially that you can see the forest through trees and take a step back to readjust if it gets blurry.”
You proceed to take a long pause to give Nick some time to react.
“I don’t know where the hell you come up with this stuff,” Nick says. “I liked that one though as out there as it may have seemed at the beginning. A good lesson for sure, and I think not calling plays allows me to do a lot of that.”
Chapter 21: On Top Of The World
Friday, August 8th, 5:16 am ET
You’re oddly proud of yourself for being able to cobble that together on the fly. It’s not always a strength of yours.
“We’re here, Nick,” you say. “We fucking did it. We are the team that everyone wants to be right now, and we have a chance to cement that.
I know you only coached him for a super brief period, and things were weird, but in 2019, Amazon Prime chronicled the Eagles season, and it wasn’t quite as all-access as Hard Knocks, but it was pretty good.
BG was an absolute star in it by the way, but heading into the season Zach Ertz talking to the camera documentary style said something to the effect of:
‘I think a lot of people in life are able to accomplish a massive goal once. But the number of people who can then do it again is way fewer, and that’s what really separates the very good from the all-time greats. If you’re able to go win a second Super Bowl after already summiting the mountain.’
I wish I had the clip because I don’t want to misquote him, but it closely resembled that.
That’s our challenge at hand, and that’s our opportunity.
The 2009 Phillies, who I brought up earlier, they came damn close. Two games shy of repeating. They were up 1–0 in the World Series and had the Yankees on their heels, just couldn’t close it, and to be honest, I’m not sure they were as locked in as they needed to be, especially not from the jump.
We had the Superdome scared out of their fucking minds after the first quarter in 2018. You could hear a damn pin drop, and you know as well as I do, how loud that place is. Couldn’t finish the job and obviously there would have been more work to do after that.
Some folks will say it’s another Super Bowl or bust season. I won’t go that far. I can be reasonable. We have a good year, win a lot of games, and say for example lose a close NFC Championship Game, it happens.
I know I’m going in all different directions because I want to embrace it while also telling you to be focused now. We are one more ring away from entering the pantheon with the early and mid 2000s Patriots and more recently the Chiefs.
We’re right there,” you add while clapping diagonally, hitting your right hand into your left palm.
Chapter 22: Don’t You Forget About Me
Friday, August 8th, 5:34 am ET
“I know this wasn’t the main point, but I’m not at all shocked that BG was the star of a show,” Nick says. “Love that guy.”
You’re a tad surprised he went in that direction to start but can certainly appreciate an opportunity to honor an all-time franchise legend.
“Me too,” you say. “Everyone does.”
You both apparently expected the other person to talk next, leading to an awkward silence. You attempt to break it — in a big way.
“Speaking of the Breakfast Club, should we go on the field and reenact the final scene where we throw our fists in the air wearing Super Bowl rings?”
“We absolutely should not,” says Nick. He could not have said no quicker if he tried.
“Field’s already beat up from the game,” you say. “We wouldn’t be doing any damage.”
“Lock in,” says Nick. “I let you reflect on the Super Bowl and tried to be supportive of that, but I gotta be focused here.”
“Alright, we’ll use it as motivation,” you say. “We win another one, and we’ll do it then.”
“We’ll see,” Nick says, putting both hands out to indicate he’s over this topic.
Chapter 23: Born To Run
Friday, August 8th, 5:43 am ET
You’ll take the non-committal answer over a hard no.
“I’ll say this, Nick,” you say. “And I mean this as a full-on compliment. You guys seem READY.
If I said that about the 2018 team at this time, I’d have been lying to myself and trying to speak it into existence. You seem truly ready. The fact that you’ve gotten everyone to buy into the same ‘we’ve moved on,’ messaging is a testament to your ability as a communicator and how much the guys love you.
We know nothing is promised. Dallas is gonna throw everything they have our way in 27 days. I know they’ve had a messy summer, but I still expect to get the kitchen sink.
Goal one in the goal pocket. Go 1–0. Win the next game. Win the one after that. So on and so forth. Then we start building towards the division. We’re gonna get everyone’s best shot because they know that we’re really fucking good.
Even with the departures on defense, it’s a good roster. Here’s what I got by the way in terms of my final 53. I know you guys don’t have to work through this for a few weeks, but I always enjoy doing these.”
You zoom in on your spreadsheet on your phone and pass the device over to Nick who takes a quick look.
Editor’s Note: While the conversation took place on Friday, August 8th, the below roster projection reflects the column publish date of Saturday, August 23rd. We made the strategic decision to do this beacuse we felt it best served the reader.
“Six receivers, interesting,” Nick says.
“Yeah, that’s a tough one, but especially after tonight, I think so,” you say. “Darius Cooper, I like what I’ve been hearing about him in camp, liked how he played tonight, quickly saw a clip of the postgame interview on Twitter already.
In addition to running good routes, that kid gives a damn. You can just tell. Maybe he’ll be inactive to start, but if he plays special teams, he’s gonna give a damn. On the scout team, he’s gonna give a damn.
That’s some powerful shit.”
“This would be a unique running back room for sure,” comments Nick.
“I’m a big Ben VanSumeren guy,” you say. “Have liked him going back a couple of years.
There’s some creative stuff you can do with fullback packages there that would piss off some folks, and here’s where I’m at with Saquon — early in the offseason I would have said to be conservative. To keep his workload a bit lighter through November.
Fuck it. He got paid. Do I think he’ll get the single-season record? No, but he wants it, and the way I see it, he’s here for a good time, not a long time.
If he plays like the best player in the league again, use him like the best player in the league again. Because that produces results, and we are in the business of producing results.”
Chapter 24: The Boys Are Back In Town
Friday, August 8th, 5:54 am ET
You take a quick look at your phone and see a low battery alert. The mobile chargers are definitely gonna come in handy on the Uber or Lyft ride back.
It’s not quite a smile, but you slightly smirk to yourself knowing you’ve now essentially been awake all night. There’s still a few weeks to catch up on sleep before it’s a full on marathon for nearly six months.
“Your son gonna obsess over this the way you do?” Nick asks.
You weren’t expecting that question. It’d be a deep way to begin wrapping things up as you attempt to formulate a semi-coherent answer.
Nick looks over in your direction.
“You caught me off guard here, if you didn’t already pick up on that,” you say with a laugh.
“I figured as much,” says Nick, offering a similar laugh in return.
“I suppose I could ask you the same thing,” you say. “You think Jacob, Taylor, and Miles will be as into it?”
When in doubt, it never hurts to attempt the old deflection method.
“I don’t know,” says Nick. “I know they enjoy it right now and think it’s cool.”
“That’s great,” you say while habitually biting one of your nails. You often knowingly do this when nervous. “You know, I think my wife would tell you that she wouldn’t hate if it was slightly less than me, which I can understand the sentiment of.
But really, it will be up to him. I guess if you gave me truth serum though, my hope is that he likes it enough where we can go to games together when he’s old enough to understand what’s going on.
Like I spent a bunch of time earlier talking about the Nakobe interception against the Jaguars. To be able to hug him at The Linc after a moment like that as the entire section just turns into a celebratory mosh pit would be awesome.”
“I hear that,” says Nick. “I love that because I miss some of that stuff being in coaching. I get to celebrate with my family after big games and all, but those in the moment impulse reactions, I don’t get to be a part of.”
Chapter 25: Into The Great Wide Open
Friday, August 8th, 6:01 am ET
Your biggest yawn of the night is here to second guess the second wind you thought you were getting under your sails.
An emerging sunrise provides a much-needed psychological boost.
“Gotta begin work in a few hours, so I should probably get going,” you say.
“Yeah, I’ll head back to my office, start grinding the film from last night,” answers Nick.
“This was fun, Nick,” you say. “Walking out of the stadium last September, I really didn’t know what was gonna happen. Like I thought we were still a playoff team. I didn’t think that was a death sentence, but the vibes were just so abysmal going through the concourse and honestly for the next few weeks, even after we beat the Saints.
I didn’t know if a night like this would ever be possible again. I wanted to believe, but there was a lot of arrows pointing in the downward direction.
I fucking love you. We did it. You were great, Nick,” you say. “Everyone was.”
You walk over for a final embrace before departing for your separate but joint missions.
“I love you too,” Nick says. “Let’s go be great again.”
As the hug begins to reach its endpoint, you rack your brain, fishing for some type of profound parting line, finding something that will work just in time.
“Double down on being great.”
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Philly Plain Dealer 
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