I’ve been a lifelong stathead. But recently, a particular bird species has proven me dead wrong: the Eagles. Their run sometimes seriously defies the fundamentals of gridiron football.
Week after week, or so it seems, opponents that were even projected to have a shot at winning—determined, red-hot, healthy, or what have you—fumble, crumble, and choke as they take on the Philly squad.
The latter always seems to materialize, out of which a lethal helmeted rabbit springs out to deliver a crushing blow to the opposition. I’d even go so far as to claim that the Philadelphia Eagles have been the spottiest, yet the luckiest, 10-1 team in recorded history. And, mind you, I’m not just penning this nervously as an anxious 49er fan ahead of our Week 13 rematch.
But there’s one more consideration that gradually overwhelms a stathead like myself. This NFL season has been awash with crazy games, bad calls, and nail-biters that were never supposed to take this trajectory. That leads me to believe the winning franchise may well not end up being the one that outscores its rival in a Las Vegas spectacle come February 11. Instead, the ultimate victor should hope not to be outreffed so egregiously that all their efforts draw a blank when it truly matters.
To avoid sounding like a conspiracy-minded nutjob, I’ll tell you this: however bitterly I’m sometimes tempted to think the game is rigged, I’m going with Hanlon’s razor and don’t attribute to malice that which can be explained by stupidity and the waning professionalism of those officiating crews.
Anyway, I’m not giving you a screed this time. I’m praying that CMC, BA, Kittle, and Deebo catch all those bullets thrown by the (hopefully) impeccable Brock Purdy for the 49ers on a rainy December afternoon at Lincoln Financial Field.
