My life can succinctly be divided in two parts: everything that happened before Jan. 21, 2018 and everything that’s transpired since.
I was 23. I had just graduated college a few weeks prior. The Eagles’ post-Carson Wentz playoff run was the only thing on my mind.
After an all day tailgate out in Jetro, I walked into Lincoln Financial Field with family and friends alike that evening to see the Birds, as home underdogs, take on the Vikings in the NFC Championship Game with a Super Bowl berth on the line. What else could be more important in our earthly existence than the Birds going on the path to finally hoisting the Lombardi Trophy?
The most thorough Eagles playoff thrashing of the 21st century didn’t start too well, though that’s forgotten a bit to history. Vikings tight end Kyle Rudolph hauled in a first quarterback touchdown to make things 7-0 Minnesota. You could hear a pin drop at the Linc. I was sick to my stomach and it wasn’t just due to the parking lot hoagies and cold ones.
Then Patrick Robinson happened.
Robinson’s pick-6 off Minnesota’s Case Keenum later in the first quarter made it feel like an earthquake had been summoned by the gridiron gods to South Philadelphia. With a pass rush from Chris Long that caused an errant pass, Robinson nabbed the ball, scurrying around the field until he was in the end zone. Much props to Ronald Darby for getting knocked into the seventh circle of hell while blocking for Robinson’s eventual score, too.
Up until that moment, it did truly feel like the peak of living. I was with a ton of people I cared about as well as tens of thousands of people who shared a common dream of seeing a February parade down Broad Street. I never heard a stadium louder before. I still haven’t since. It’s something I wish I could re-live all over again.
It was only a tie game at that point in the first quarter, but it was over. The Eagles had as rabid a crowd that ever existed going wild. Robinson ignited a fire in all of us. That’s before the legend of Nick Foles took another turn as well…
Foles, whose birthday is this Tuesday, went supernova against the Vikings’ top-ranked defense. throwing for 352 yards and three touchdowns. Bombs to Alshon Jeffery? Check. Perfectly lofted passes to Zach Ertz that made Harrison Smith look silly? Check. A flea flicker touchdown that felt like a victory cigar for every Eagles fan watching? Mega check.
I was such a Foles skeptic heading into that postseason. Guess what? I was wrong and I’ve never been more happy to be wrong about something in my entire three decades on this rock of ours. Now Foles is one of the greatest heroes this city has ever seen. Life comes at you quick!
Even with a matchup against Tom Brady, Bill Belichick and the Patriots looming in two weeks, that monumental 38-7 beatdown of Minnesota made it crystal clear in my mind that the Eagles would win the Super Bowl at all costs. Foles’ right arm was magic. The defense had a knack for timely game-altering plays. Doug Pederson and Frank Reich were more locked in than anyone’s ever been coaching wise. What a glorious winter 2018 was!
The Linc never rocked harder. From the “Dreams and Nightmares” pregame warm-ups to PatRob’s heroics to Foles rewriting the story of his own career, “anyone could’ve gotten it that night.”
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