Monday Night Heartbreak

Last weekend at Princeton Stadium, we all experienced the agony of defeat when the thrill of victory seemed within reach. Two days later, I experienced the same range of emotions and the same disappointing outcome when my Philadelphia Eagles fell to the Dallas Cowboys in the final minutes of their Monday Night Football matchup. I left Lincoln Financial Field with the all-too-familiar feeling of having an imminent victory suddenly snatched away in a surprising fashion.

But I should have known better. The fact that my Eagles crumbled in the final minutes of an important game is far from shocking. Failure is something you just have to accept when you are an Eagles fan. You may be wondering why I would even root for a team that always falls short of its goals. Why would I put myself through this misery every season? I blame my upbringing.

I grew up in a household in which the Eagles were a constant topic of conversation. Eagles memorabilia can be found in every room of my house, including the bathroom — we have Eagles hand towels, no joke. My family has had season tickets for 22 years, and I was lucky enough to go to Jacksonville for the Superbowl last year. Basically, my family lives and dies for the Eagles. I wouldn't be surprised if we bled green.

When I came to college, I still wanted to be able to attend games. So my dad promised me that I could go to the Monday night game against our arch-rivals, the Cowboys. After the agonizing loss to Yale that Saturday, I was looking forward to the game even more. I wanted to experience the solidarity and team pride that I felt at Princeton Stadium, and I also wanted my team to come out on top. I was in for a surprise.

Monday night games in Philadelphia are a unique experience. The smell of beer pervades the air — my Princeton experience thus far has enabled me to appreciate this smell — and everyone is wearing some form of green, usually an Eagles jersey. This is the team pride that I have grown to love.

The game started out smoothly enough. Running back Brian Westbrook was gaining substantial yards for the first time all season. Fighting his groin injury, quarterback Donovan McNabb ran for a two-yard touchdown in the second quarter. After two David Akers field goals in the third quarter, the Eagles went into the final 15 minutes of play with a comfortable 20-7 lead.

But with just five minutes left in the game, things started to go downhill — and very quickly. Shortly after Philadelphia safety Michael Lewis suffered a concussion, Cowboy quarterback Drew Bledsoe threw a long bomb to wide receiver Terry Glenn for a touchdown. The shock and fear that I had experienced in Princeton Stadium was coming back to me.

Despite the Eagles' six-point lead, in the back of my mind, I harbored the horrible thought that the Eagles would falter and the Cowboys would score again and win the game. In a sense, I was right. But I wasn't able to predict the devastating fashion in which it would occur.

On the ensuing Eagles drive, the team faced second-and-seven. This should have been a running play. But McNabb decided to pass the ball and threw an interception. Cowboy cornerback Roy Williams ran the ball in for a touchdown, untouched by any Eagle player.

Adding insult to injury, McNabb reinjured his groin trying to tackle Williams, an injury that is expected to force him to miss the rest of the season. With third-string quarterback Mike McMahon at the helm, Philadelphia was unable to rally back.

The fact that the Eagles now sit at 4-6 — dead last in the NFC East — and without their starting quarterback is a strong indication that this season is over for Philadelphia. But the wonderful thing about football is that there is always next season. And you can be sure that I will be proudly wearing my green jersey on opening day.