A frightening scene if you happened to be a concession stand or a timeout in FedEx Field last night.

So… Ookie had a bit of a night in Raljon. If you happened to be starting Vick in fantasy, congratulations on your win, because there’s no excuse if you did start him and still lost. Even Jerome Harrison, the incumbent Browns starter in preseason who turned out to be a waste of
a mid-round fantasy pick, was incredibly productive in that game. And man did I love LaRon Landry talking shit before the game then getting toasted for 88-yards on the game’s opening play.

As for the Reid doppelganger, I especially enjoy how this is at least the second straight game where the broadcasters have made an effort to make fun of Reid. The previous instance, of course, came last week when CBS unearthed little footage of Baby Huey Reid competing in the Punt, Pass and Kick competition in 1971. Not surprisingly since Andy sprang almost fully formed at birth already at 5′ 3″ 240 lbs. If Momma Reid didn’t die in childbirth, she must be the single strongest woman ever.

John Feinstein, in an opinion given a startling amount of serious attention, found racist coding in the many inane excuses Mike Shanahan used for justifying his benching of Donovan McNabb in the final two minutes against the Lions. No, no, NO! How could Feinstein be so misguided? Shahahan doesn’t dislike McNabb because he’s black. Shanahan is just an asshole who mistreats every quarterback who isn’t Elway. Race is why Philly fans hated him.

Oh, calm down, Philly scum, I’m just cruelly baiting you.

Still, there’s no outcome that doesn’t lead to unbearable media reaction. Even with the new ludicrous contract, a Redskins win means sanctimonious writers like Feinstein get to obtusely claim how racism has been proven wrong yet again. An Eagles win gives occasion to thousands of smug Philly writers to try to smugly explain how McNabb losing justifies the city’s retarded obsession with hating his guts. All the more reason to silently resent the media borg I have allowed to assimilate me.

Don’t forget to while away the pregame with this week’s edition of The Designed Rush at SB Nation.

The Giants play an NFC East opponent for the second week in a row, and this one might even be capable of giving them a game. If there’s anything left to torch in the city after the Phillies celebratory riots, it might get it tonight if the Eagles can eke out a victory. For big ticket free agent acquisition Asante Samuel, it’s the first of many chances he’ll have against Eli, but the first since flubbing a chance to put away Super Bowl XLII. We here at KSK salute your butterfingers, Asante. If only you had remembered to bring them in Week 3. Guuuhhh.

The biggest problem with night games in Philly: No chance of Day Man showing up.

Oh, and a pic of the superhot Eagles cheerleader who forced a thousand people to e-mail me for a screencap after the jump.
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Iggles fans, WTF is up with this guy? Philly is supposed to a hardass sports town, yet you tolerate this twerp? This guy wouldn’t last a week in Pittsburgh. Sorry Philly, but when you’ve got an unofficial mascot more embarrassing than the barrel guy, you forfeit any hardass status.

Part of Birdman’s problem is that he has adopted a moniker that has been used repeatedly by other amici aves over the years. According to the Old Gray Lady, this version of Birdman is an ordinary carpenter during the week. That’s just not as compelling as some of these other Birdmen of note…

A. Harvey Birdman Super-hero lawyer. I often repeat Harvey’s catchphrase, “I’ll take the case!” Of course when I say it, I’m talking about a case of GooGoo Clusters.

B. “Birdman” aka “Baby” aka “The #1 Stunna” If I tried to make pigeon calls sound tough I would probably adopt plenty of aliases too.

C. “The Birdman of Alcatraz” Robert Stroud Researched canaries while in the joint. Wrote some books. Shanked a screw.

D. “The Birdman” Koko B. Ware WWF mainstay during the mid-to-late 80s. Sang lead on the spectacularly crappy “Piledriver”. On a scale of one to gay, this video ranks Liberace.

Come to think of it, all these other Birdmen are pretty lousy too. If Philly doesn’t mind this tights-wearing twinkie, then I don’t either. Go nuts, dude.

It may not mean much in the grand scheme of the league, this meeting of the 2-4s, but it does mark the first showdown between Andy Reid and his former coordinator, Brad Childress. And it may be the last. They were once allies, now they’re – well, they’re not really bitter foes. But they have embittered the fans of their respective teams. Let the bad blood flow while they still have jobs. WHO YA GOT?

We’ve been so engaged in mock-sincere recriminations over who is most slighted, black quarterbacks, white receivers, Asian claims adjusters or half-German and half-Brazilian big tittied personal palm frond wavers that it seems that we’ve lost sight of what matters most. Sunday, it was reported that this year’s Meast namesake Kevin Everett made still more remarkable progress when he was able to lift his right arm and give paralysis the finger.

It makes you think of all the parallels with Christopher Reeve, like how they both wore red and blue outfits, and sucked stem cells dry to reach an arduous recovery.

But the debate hung over everything this week, especially the selection of the Meast. You knew we had to honor someone from the Eagles for their -temporarily- season-saving, face-melting 56-point performance against Detroit Sunday. With McNabb and Curtis canceling each other out with outstanding but co-dependent performances, it was the open field running of Brian Westbrook that proved most deserving of our recognition this week. We don’t care how many yards you had, Ronnie Brown. Fucking loser.

The Eagles’ back gained more than 200 total yards and had three scores, in the process getting an abdominal strain from eating so many Lions’ players souls.

And, hey, we didn’t pick a Patriot this week! There’s another “disrespect” card they’ll shuffle into the deck.

• Donovan McNabb was super pissed when he opened the media guide and saw that Kevin Kolb’s middle name is Kyle.
• Not to be outdone, Andy Reid’s kids have begun staging Persian cat fights in their drained jacuzzi.
• Jevon Kearse and Correll Buckhalter share a single pair of knees.
• Jeremiah Trotter says he’s just 30 years-old but dendrochronologists insist that he’s at least 52.
• Sean Considine looks like he’d enjoy a ham sandwich on Wonder Bread slathered in Miracle Whip washed down with a tall glass of milk.
• Chunky Soup is made out of the McNabb family’s collective excreta.
• Philly’s backup tight ends form the city’s nineteenth most popular barbershop quartet–George Harrison’s ghost finds them derivative.
• Chris Berman has spent several sleepless nights debating the pros and cons of various nicknames for Chris Gocong–each is more insufferable than the last.
• Max Jean-Gilles is pregnant with triplets.
• Jean-Gilles tried to eat Uga VI on two non-consecutive occasions–poor guy’s still scared to leave his house.
• Dedrick Roper refuses to answer all questions relating to Three’s Company.

And now–because I’ve run out of shit to talk about–here’s a video of rather raucous tailgate featuring every Eagle fan you’ve ever met. It should keep hold your attention for precisely 64 seconds (much like the rest of this post!).

Don’t worry folks, the season’s almost here.

P.S. Fuck Da Eagles