I’ve been weirdly confident all week. Nervous, but confident. I think the Eagles are better and could potentially win the game handily. There has been a slight worry that Bill Belichick would have cameras embedded where the Eagles are practicing, or that he is responsible for that illness bug that seems to have bitten the Birds this week (I’m not joking), but then I quickly cast aside my fears about tampering or the league being in the bag for the Patriots, because surely that won’t fly anymore.

Until now:

Oh, OK. Just right out in the open then. Let’s skip the pleasantries and just our pants off and ram our parts into one another.

This is the tide we’re up against. Now I’m scared. How long until Pederson’s headset goes out? Why is there crowd noise being pumped in while the Eagles are on offense? Is Chris Long the greatest mole the world has even seen? Suddenly, donating all of your salary makes sense… when you’re being paid by the Patriots to relay every detail back to the mothership. Fuck, I’m in my own head. These voices. They’re speaking to me. I’m losing it. Let’s play the game now, when they’re least expecting it.