As you might remember, it was Vince Young’s preseason boasting that birthed the “dream team” moniker for the Eagles that has been the go-to mocking referent every single time the team has faltered in some way. And falter they have. Oh, such beautiful falterings. It’s been pretty fantastic, all things considered. And now it falls to VY to maintain whatever faint hopes the Eagles cling to for a playoff run. THE IRONING IS DELICIOUS.

Besides Ookie, Philly will also be without Jeremy Maclin, who was team’s leading receiver when the Giants won 29-16 in the Linc in Week 3, so this should be extra one-sided. Now seems like a good time to catch up with the new Zelda game that I could have been playing all afternoon.

Buddy Ryan, defensive mastermind and begetter of hilarious coaches, will be honored at halftime tonight. Not that we’ll see any of that, what with the Lamest Three Minutes being the first priority of ESPN. Even if it doesn’t have anything to do with his tenures in Philly or Chicago, my version of the ceremony would simply be showing footage of the time Buddy punched Kevin Gilbride. It never get old.

If you watched the Eagles-Cowboys beatdown last Sunday, you might have heard Al Michaels mention that Michael Vick during the bye week “played some golf and bought a parrot”. Perfectly suitable stoner activities. This was welcome and KSKharacter affirming news on its own. Then today I happened upon this photo of Ookie posing with a parrot at a pet store.

And all became right with the world.

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Under no circumstances will this game not be all about Michael Vick all the time. Which I guess is all right. Worse players to suffocatingly hog the spotlight. Especially when we get tender moments between Ookie and Mr. Home Depot Man.

Really wish they had saved that one for the coin toss. Nothing like hearing an entire dome breaking into a collective BAWWWWWWWWWW.

Eagles and the Packers in the playoffs should evoke memories of the 4th and 26 conversion the Eagles pulled off en route to losing yet another NFC title game. If nothing else, it gave ESPN cause to dredge up the festering corpse of Freddie Mitchell. Fred-Ex had quite the recollection of the play. One might say incredibly delusional. Another might say hilariously self-absorbed. I’ll say DERPtarded.

You know that play is a love-hate play for me because that was the first time they threw to me the whole friggin’ game. I was blocking my ass off doing everything it took, doing the stuff that society doesn’t recognize.

A block that dare not speak its name.

That whole year sucked for me, and the next year sucked even more. But anyway…

Back to my flash in the pan…

I actually had to go tell the coaches that I was wide open and to throw me the ball. The coaches literally had to talk into Donovan’s headset and tell him I was wide open and to throw it to me.

Donovan looked at me in the huddle and said, “Ready?” And I said, “Dude, I’ve been ready the whole game.”

“Dude, I was born ready to tell you I was ready.”

I started reading the defense as soon as I got to the line of scrimmage. For most guys, it takes a lot of years to read defenses like that.

The name of the play was a 2 Jet Double Go. What it does is sends Pinkston and Thrash on “Go” routes and what I do, as the Sultan of Slot, is I read the middle. I had to take a certain angle that most young receivers wouldn’t have taken. Any other angle and it would have been a bum play. I was the master of finding holes, and I knew right where the hole would be. It was money.

Rookies would never be able to cram as many douchebag cliches into a single paragraph. Fred-Ex got at least a half dozen in there.

First of all Donovan’s pass was behind me and it was wobbly, but I had to take advantage of the opportunity that was presented to me. Right when I caught the pill, I kind of knew I had the yardage right away. I looked at the sticks and to see where I was at and I knew I got it. I felt like Michael Jordan hitting a last-second shot or Tiger Woods sinking a 50-foot putt.

Then I had to pull out the belt…

“And drop my pants so I could shit the bed on the rest of my career.”

Normally, Ed Rendell is a never-ending font of fatheaded Filthydelphia f*cktardery, but I’ll give the Pennsylvania governor credit for ragging on The Rog for postponing the Vikes-Eagles game on Sunday on account of a blizzard. And he threw in some right fine racial stereotyping for good measure.

If this was in China, do you think the Chinese would have called off the game? He’s right, the people would have been marching down to the stadium, they would have walked, and they would be doing calculus on the way down.

And when they got there, they wouldn’t even watch the game until they finished their piano lesson! And if they complained – BLAM! – gunned down on the spot. Won’t even do the decency of hauling away your corpse. Just let you bleed out all over South Street. That’s the America I want to live in: China!

I guess it is ironic that the Eagles ever won a title.

Derpwhile, Ol’ Brittfar remains listed as doubtful, though he’ll probably pull some horseshit an hour before kickoff, whether he actually starts or not. Don’t know about you guys, but I got enough brainless knob slobbing for ill-advised throws last night with Breesus, so we’re probably set for the rest of our lives. Thanks anyway, Favraro. Please watch your career’s final primetime loss on the sideline like a nice Dongslinger.

And to get the endless fantasy discussion started, what with many a league championship being determined tonight, I’ll give you the outlook of my three teams still in contention.

Semifinal – Down 13. Starting DeSean. Opponent’s starters are all done. That’s a solid maybe.
Semifinal – Up 31. Starting Vick. Opponent has DeSean and LeSean. Probably good here.
Championship game – Up two. Starting Maclin. Opponent (Maj) has Vick. I’m boned.

Oooh, je ne sais quoi. Loogit you, Miles Austin. Very good, you mental midget football functionary. Bob Costas must now know if you know the meaning of several other French idioms that New York Times writers are prone to drop in the middle of trend pieces.

Savoir Faire? You know that one? Huh? Do you? Do you? Stammer some more for me, why don’t you?

Joie de vivre? That means lust for life. You know you sang that song? That’s Iggy Pop, you goddamn simp. If it isn’t Iggy Koopa, you wouldn’t know, would you?

What about esprit de corps, huh? You wanna step into the Costas Chalet and throw down some French? You best be ready to rouler, mon ami.

Ookie might have gotten his first loss of this season this past Sunday (sorry, the Redskins game where he got hurt in the first quarter doesn’t go on him) but he probably made the sickest throw of the season late in the fourth quarter, hitting quadruple-covered Brent Celek in the end zone for a touchdown to at least make the game close for one last onside kick. I’d still rather watch Vick play than soulless manufactured icon LeBron James get booed by a bunch of diptard Cleveland fans using ersatz Cameron Crazies chant sheets. That’s just me, though. I’m sure in the ratings LeBronnukah will destroy a barely relevant Thursday night game on nigh unwatchable (both in quality and availability) NFL Network.

Meanwhile, Asante Samuel is inactive tonight, which is a shame because I could watch Andre Johnson swing on him for hours on end.

During the NBC pregame show, Dan Patrick asked Tony Dungy whether Michael Vick would be as good a quarterback without serving time in prison. Dungy said he would not. The NFL being a copycat league, we can be assured of a panoply of quarterbacks doing whatever they can to land themselves in the calaboose. Roethlisberger has to be pissed that he just can’t himself in the clink despite seemingly trying as hard as possible to get there.

Vick, meanwhile, has yet to throw an interception this season. In fact, he hasn’t thrown one since December 2006, which is a fact no way offset by the several years he spent incarcerated. Nevertheless, if there was any doubt that he is putting the NFL on a rape stand, it was eliminated last week against the Redskins. Ever since getting off to a horrid start, the Giants had been killing pretty much every quarterback they faced until that opposition fielded Jon Kitna against them. Still, I’m willing to chalk that up to the inherent weirdness of division contests.

Hopelessly this game should live up to its promise and be a worthwhile contest. If nothing else, at least we’ll be entertained with the way the broadcasters make fun of Andy Reid for the third straight week.

Welcome back to American Top 10. I’m Casey Kasem.

Before we continue with the countdown, let’s take a moment… and travel back… to December 28, 1996.

Beavis and Butthead Do America was the number one movie at the box office.

On the charts, Toni Braxton held the top spot with the scintillating and sultry “Unbreak My Heart”.

And “America’s Team,”… the Dallas Cowboys… defeated Brad Johnson and the Minnesota Vikings 40-15… in an NFC Wild Card game.

One week later, Michael Irvin is accused of holding a gun to a 23-year-old woman’s head while teammate Erik Williams and another man rape her. An incomprehensible act of evil.

13 years after that, Dallas has been raped in the playoffs… again and again.

And we couldn’t be happier.

All God’s children hate Philadelphia. That much can’t be disputed. But this streak… is too delicious to snap. Plus, we know, the Eagles… will blow it anyway.

Remember, friends: Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.

Except the Cowboys’ star. I wouldn’t touch that thing if it were branded on Jessica Biel’s ass.

Call it East Coast Bias, call it a predilection to avoid games that don’t matter, but it’s probably best for us to live blog a game with actual playoff implications rather than Monday night’s affair where THIS GUY gets to clinch the NFC West crown over THAT GUY. Instead, teams named from cities in New York and Pennsylvania with fanbases largely residing in the Dirty Jerz (F*ck off, Giants fans who try to claim the Jets are the trashy team with exclusively Jersey roots) do battle to take a division title that Dallas aggressively wants to forfeit.

Speaking of Jersey, while MTV might be backing off airing the now infamous Jersey Shore bar punch, we’ll gladly supply you with the footage.

[Note: The Mannings image on the live blog template is included because Peyton, Eli and Cooper are guest starring on The Simpsons this evening. I could have a bit part in an episode and I still wouldn't want to watch that garbage. What's amusing about that Simpsons book that came out recently is that they maybe found one person involved that doesn't admit that the show sucks now. But I still have to know what's with the green jersey on Cooper? Are they saying he was destined for the Jets?]

[Follow-up note: According to a commenter, "the green jersey on Cooper Manning was his high school colors at Isadore Newman in New Orleans." Thank you, New Orleans high school football mavens.]