THERE IS NOTHING more magical than football in the snow.What will it take for America to (literally) get it's balls back?
If you grew up anywhere in the wintry half of this country, you probably have fond memories of hiking up your snow pants and sloshing around with your buddies and your Pete Rozelle-signed football in the backyard drifts - and the only thing that comes a close second to playing football in the snow is watching a classic NFL matchup in a furious downpour of the white stuff.
In 1948, the Eagles won an NFL championship at Shibe Park in a raging blizzard, a game that was never forgotten by the 36,309 die-hards who didn't think twice about braving those conditions to watch history in the making. Then there was the "Snow-Plow" game in New England and the Pats' memorable playoff victory over Oakland in a snowstorm years later, and the frigid 1967 Ice Bowl in Green Bay. To paraphrase Frank Capra this Christmas season, for a true football fan it would not have been as wonderful a life had those remarkable games never been born.
That's why the decision by the NFL and the Eagles, with input from the city of Philadelphia, to postpone last night's game because of a snowstorm that isn't really all that (we might get 11 inches in the city - not exactly Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer territory, not even close) is more than downright disappointing.
This is the height of wimpiness, and the girly-men who made this sad decision should be ashamed of themselves. The NFL has been rightfully called the No Fun League for a number of years, but this takes that to a whole embarrassing new level. In fact, let's name names here: NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, Eagles' owner Jeff Lurie and president Joe Banner, and Mayor Nutter - you are the Wimps Who Stole Christmas from football fans in Philadelphia.