Philadelphia Eagles Vs New York Giants: Who Will Be King Of Trash Heap?
Two dismally bad teams are going to butt heads. The result? The winning team will have bragging rights to be the best of the worst in the NFL.
No, we can’t reminisce about the good old days, those rugged ones, when the NFC East were the barbarians of the league, showcasing the hardest hits, the most brutal rivalries, and the grittiest defenses.
There is a reason why the division is now nicknamed the “least,” and it earns its name proudly in 2013. The Philadelphia Eagles are pathetic, allowing teams to score an average of 35 points. Peyton Manning, in the last game, didn’t even see a third down for an entire quarter. He just kept tossing passes and getting second down conversions until his team pranced in the end zone like happy gazelles.
Philly is going against the New York Giants on Sunday, who are fighting with limp-fisted pride to be at the top of the trash barrel. Eli Manning is awful this year, throwing interceptions like his fans hurl colorful obscenities at him; his decimated line has allowed him to be sacked 14 times. They have been beaten soundly and confidently by every team that had the fortune to get them on their schedule.
So, two pushover teams are clashing at Met-Life Stadium, if “clashing” is an appropriate term anymore.
When the little pink pixie dust settles, which soft team will be mincing and posing in celebration like the ballerinas that they are? It is hard to say, but in the mist of this tea party, there is the running game of the Eagles and LeSean McCoy. Thank you, Shady!
McCoy will be the difference maker. He doesn’t run over people, but his power when he goes east and west, with some blocking help, shows why he is the league’s best rusher. I expect him to have a big game against some aging linebackers on the opposing team. The Giants will show to the world, or the three remaining people interested in the game, why they are at the bottom of the heap, smothered by soiled newspapers and banana peels.
The stench of NFC East is unbearable right now.
I’ll still watch, howeve, and cheer for the midnight green as I clamp a clothespin to my nose.