Today in Jason Kelce, Everyman, we find the bearded wonder taking in the St. Denis fair in Havertown, which might be the most everyman thing a human in the Philadelphia area could do, just short of picking up a hoagie at Wawa on their way to a birthday party at Pica’s.
Meanwhile, for contrast, the last time we heard from LeSean McCoy he was hopping a private jet to Vegas to eat hot wings out of the cleavages of a harem of wannabe socialites:
Side note: I’m passing no judgment here. If I had LeSean McCoy’s money (or Kelce’s, for that matter), I’d be encircled by so many rings of handlers and PR consultants that my pictures from the tarmac wouldn’t be Gram’d out until I was safely on final to my private island. Which I suppose is the sort of temptation that makes Kelce’s normality all the more impressive.
