How far down is Andy Reid cutting his undershirt if we can't see any of it within his plunging neckline?
Who had Week 2 in the Michael Vick injury pool?
I didn’t. I thought we would at least get a couple home games out of him before the combination of his unpredictable style and the Eagles’ porous offensive line did him in. Ironically, Vick was concussed while standing in the pocket and slamming into a well-positioned Todd Herremans. I think Paul Domowich said it best… or worst:
Therefore, even though reader Brian dubbed this the Advil PM Game (need it to get to sleep and tough to swallow), I think we’re going to have to call this one the Jesse James Game: shot hanging a picture.
Under the NFL's concussion policy, Vick will have to pass a series of tests before being cleared to play.
The game also played out like most M. Night Shyamalan movies: mysteriously intriguing to start, sloppy in the middle, and, despite a few brief moments of excitement, a frustratingly painful ending that will just piss you off the more you think about it.
The Eagles were poised to take a 17-7 lead into the half… that is until Vick fumbled on the four-yard line. What happened for the next two and a half minutes made it seem like two drunk guys were playing Madden in a dorm room. The Eagles almost escaped danger, as DeSean Jackson and his 100 speed rating tracked down a winded Ray Edwards before he could make it to the end zone. Sadly, the Eagles were unable to stop the Falcons on any of their five trips to the red zone. This one ended with a spectacular catch from the 600-year-old Tony Gonzalez.
The Eagles got the ball back, and Vick promptly fumbled (again). Two plays later, Matty Ice (which has to be the most annoying and self-serving nickname in sports) threw an interception with just 14 seconds remaining in the half. With time running out, Vick completed a quick pass to Jeremy Maclin, and then Alex Henery attempted a 63-yard field goal, which landed about 62 yards short. Half over, thankfully.
We interrupt this ludicrous recap to bring you the grammatical stylings of Bob Costas, who followed the Vick Whisperer, Tony Dungy, on NBC’s 22-man halftime show. Costas’ prose started out on Matthew Stafford and ended up on Bill Clinton. Not even a slutty, I don’t respect myself intern could make the transition that quickly. We’ll spare you the video.
The second half didn’t start out much better. Vick was intercepted on the first drive of the third quarter… or was he?
No, he wasn’t.
The Eagles never challenged the play, however. Doubly worse, NBC showed only one inconclusive replay, with Al Michaels and Chris Collinsworth informing viewers that the correct call had been made.
Eagles coaches in the booth rely on the TV feed when making decisions whether or not to challenge a play. Perhaps the above angle, shown 15 minutes later, would have been helpful, no? Still, Andy Reid should have thrown the challenge flag.
It didn’t look like any of that was going to matter, however. The Eagles scored the next 21 points, the last of which came just minutes after Vick got his concussion.
Now, is it just me, or did Vick's injury resemble Ace Ventura smacking his head into the doctor at Shady Acres?
Yeah, it totally did.
It’s hard to tell if Vick had his mouthguard in during the play (he often doesn’t). We'll assume he didn't. If he did, it might have prevented the injury, or at least him biting his tongue.
Even after blowing the lead in the fourth quarter, the Eagles still had a chance to win the game with Mike Kafka at quarterback. However, these were the team’s final moves:
– Five-yard pass to Maclin- now 3rd and 3.
– 2-minute warning (where you would think Reid would have drawn up two plays, since it was four-down territory)
– Two-yard screen pass on 3rd and 3
– Dropped pass by Maclin on fourth down
Maclin was sorry:
No need, he played a good game. But can someone please tell me why the Eagles burned a timeout just one play after the 2-minute warning? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller? And why in the hell they would – once again – throw a screen pass a yard short of the first down marker on third down? This has been happening for what, a decade? Isn’t the first sign of mental illness when someone repeats the same actions and expects different results?
There are so, so many questions, yet so few answers.
Perhaps my dad summed it up best on the phone this morning: “Every time I watch a game like this, I feel like I wasted four hours of my life.”
That's why the fans at P.J. Whelian's just drink the pain away:
Bonus .gif of LeSean McCoy-Howard Mudd chest bump, after the jump. Ya know, to let you leave this post with a smile.