Listen to my tale of a typical fan, who lives only for football, drinking, and cheerleaders and bands. In the land of America, there is a crown most sought. It is a crown that must be won by valor and cannot be bought. The gladiators, who wage wars for this crown, are decked in NFL armor and are famous throughout town. Ferocious in attitude like fiery dragons, they attract season ticket holders like me, tailgating in wagons. The football crown is sought by 26 teams, all of them putting 24 warriors onto the battle field who are courageous, strong, and mean.
In the land of America, there is one team considered the favorite of the people, the Dallas Cowboys, whose stadium roof opens to the outside and rises like a steeple. All white and silver these Cowboys are dressed, favorites in the land of the free and the blessed. But in Philadelphia, there is another sign of U.S. freedom, a team helmed by Donovan McNabb, the leader of the fiery Eagles. McNabb is different than America’s favorites, his dark skin long oppressed by those who are racist. His gladiators are headed for a showdown with Dallas, wherein the Cowboys will try to defend their title. But Donovan knows the Eagles will take the crown, if he can lead his gladiators in taking the Cowboys down.
My father acquired tickets to this amazing feat, a reward to me that was considered the ultimate treat. My reward stemmed from my excellent skills at keeping my dad’s and my mugs filled with beers. We gathered our provisions for the weary journey, and made ready to see McNabb and the Eagles go for glory. I made sure as we left to see the fiery dragons, I had stocked plenty of cold beer on ice in our Ford wagon. I now will tell you of that eventful day, when McNabb and the Eagles conquered the Cowboys at the Linc.
We sat in our seats in the war stadium on high, a new battlefield known as the Linc that featured everything including the kitchen sink. The Linc’s...