Feature Article |
Why Do We Care So Much?
By Robert Huber
“Because we were drunk,” Sean admits.
“We weren’t drunk!” she protests. “We were having fun.”
During the season, Sean listens to WIP every day, calls in to Anthony and Stevie’s show once a week, worries the X’s and O’s. He played ball in high school. Now he sells advertising for Clipper magazine — that’s how he met the tailgaters, one of them was a client. When the Birds lose, he likes to be alone, the social thing becomes a bit much. That annoys Margaret. She could talk to every one of the 70,000 people in the stands; that’s why she’s there. Which is fine, it lets him focus on what’s important, he can grumble off into himself, figure out exactly what’s wrong with his screwed-up team. It usually takes Sean until Friday to come out of his funk when the Eagles lose, but he’s ready to tailgate by Sunday, after his week of WIP, of brooding, of coming to terms. He’s ready to go to war. Margaret’s ready to dance.
Their Eagles, our Eagles, do not play a game — this is far too important to be a game. “I was bawling my eyes out in Jacksonville at halftime,” says Margaret. “Because we really were going to win.” Just like Sean was sure, back in eighth grade, that we would come back and win that Super Bowl.
This — both Margaret and Sean are sure — this is our year.
“We weren’t drunk!” she protests. “We were having fun.”
During the season, Sean listens to WIP every day, calls in to Anthony and Stevie’s show once a week, worries the X’s and O’s. He played ball in high school. Now he sells advertising for Clipper magazine — that’s how he met the tailgaters, one of them was a client. When the Birds lose, he likes to be alone, the social thing becomes a bit much. That annoys Margaret. She could talk to every one of the 70,000 people in the stands; that’s why she’s there. Which is fine, it lets him focus on what’s important, he can grumble off into himself, figure out exactly what’s wrong with his screwed-up team. It usually takes Sean until Friday to come out of his funk when the Eagles lose, but he’s ready to tailgate by Sunday, after his week of WIP, of brooding, of coming to terms. He’s ready to go to war. Margaret’s ready to dance.
Their Eagles, our Eagles, do not play a game — this is far too important to be a game. “I was bawling my eyes out in Jacksonville at halftime,” says Margaret. “Because we really were going to win.” Just like Sean was sure, back in eighth grade, that we would come back and win that Super Bowl.
This — both Margaret and Sean are sure — this is our year.
Originally published in Philadelphia magazine, September 2007
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