The Power of Belief

The Average Joes vs Globo Gym. Charlie Kelly vs. the rats. Me vs. gravity. Moses vs. the Pharaohs. I think you get the picture.

I could talk about X’s and O’s or the Brady-Belichick Axis of Evil taking an elephant sized dump on our collective dream a decade ago. Sprinkle in something about how the entire Chip Kelly era felt like being on the business end of a level 10 case of blue balls. Maybe even the fact that I didn’t realize until yesterday that the plane tickets I drunkenly bought to Minneapolis after we took the Cowboys behind the shed in November have 10 hours of layovers in the exact opposite direction of Minnesota.

Consider this: fuck all of that stuff. I’m not going to tell you what you already know, I’m going to tell you what you already forgot. We’ve been written off at every single turn this season and have defied the odds at every step toward the Lombardi. Do the power of belief and thinking things into existence actually work? I don’t know, that’s a question better suited to your weird aunt. What I do know is that the alcohol-fueled irrational belief that’s been behind every Philly playoff run is on steroids, we all feel like human hurricanes, and that last Sunday night Broad Street looked a green-dyed Purge sequel.

In December I said it was time to dig in and believe in something.

Tempered Expectations and Why God Isn’t Dead

Well guess what you simpletons, here we fuckin are. It’s no longer time to temper expectations and hedge against disappointment. It’s time to double down on that divined belief and get in people’s faces about it. Be the asshole in the Eagles jersey every other fanbase so desperately wants you to be. This is the Philadelphia sports tradition, and it’s precisely why Xfinity Live and McGillins are going to look like a Jameson truck crashed into a new AA chapter’s inaugural meeting regardless of what the scoreboard says when the clock hits zero.

You might be asking yourself if you should make the trek into the city for the game. The parking, drink prices, crowds… is it worth it? While we’re asking questions, let me ask you: should Christ have refused the cross? Should Rocky have stayed on the canvas? In 20 years when your kids ask where you were when we won this thing, make sure you’ll be able to say you were absolutely tanked on the art museum steps with 100,000 of your best friends. Make sure you did your imaginary part. One more game. One more time. #BelieveInSomething

Written by John Renzi

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