Screaming At The TV

In poker, Aces sometimes lose to deuces. A bad beat. The Eagles bad beat the Cowboys tonight. The better team did not win. I’ll take it.

We were screaming at the TV. Screaming at the Cowboys. Screaming at Jerry Jones. Screaming at Chris Collingsworth.

We were especially screaming at Chris Collingsworth.

We both told him to **** himself. That’s right. Sitting on the sofa in pajamas, the Foxes let him have it. Game get to us too much?

We are the consummate homers. And we’re fatalists. On the game’s first play, a six yard run off left tackle, we assumed all was lost.

The TV sound remained up the whole whole time.

“If you weren’t here,” she said sometime in the second half when I asked if she’d rather watch in silence.

“He’s limping.”

“He’s rubbing his arm.”

“Oh, that’s not good.”

We see more hurt and illness than any family of hypochondriacs.

The Eagles move on to the playoffs. They’re playing New Orleans next Saturday in Philly. Every game from now on is win or walk.

Too much tension. Can you be fined for profanity in your own home?