Feeds 
By the time Terrell Owens completed his end zone production last week and 68,000 tortured souls were evacuating the Linc, the 2007 Eagles had nothing left but slim mathematical chances and fading memories of past great escapes.
Jeffrey Lurie bought the Eagles in the morning, and by that afternoon he was in City Hall Courtyard. There, just before the evening rush, he would spring for sandwiches, shake hands and make one promise. He would, at any cost, restore pride to a tattered, tired organization.
Deep inside the arrogance, wrapped in all those on-field celebrations and championship declarations, and soothed by years of laughter, the Eagles always have hidden a deep, enduring inferiority.
Super Bowl XXXIX was over and a good one it was, a close game between qualified, determined opponents.
Andy Reid had never coached a football game at any level when he grabbed Donovan McNabb around the waist and danced to wherever the conga line would snake.
When Reggie Brown said it once, it floated quietly to the locker room floor like a stream of spent adhesive tape. When he said it again, suddenly it was sticky, useful, therapeutic and unlikely to be easily scissored away.
Through the 10, through the 20 and now through close to the 30 years since they canonized Bernie Parent, Flyers fans have been haunted by the notion of goaltending as an afterthought. There were some exceptions — Pelle Lindbergh was one, as was Ron Hextall.
Three seasons after their Super Bowl trip, none particularly inspiring, the Eagles arrived at their bye week in deep need of a capable, committed head coach. If he is interested, Andy Reid would be ideal.
The more Brent Celek crawled around the pile of opportunity, the more convinced he was that he would find something of value. Turns out, he may have found a belated job as the Eagles' starting tight end.
The Eagles' 75th season unfolds Sunday, and with it they can expect one, and only one, guarantee: In any measurable category, it will beat their 74th offseason. "Every team faces distractions," Sheldon Brown said Wednesday, between practices. "That's just life."
The Eagles broke training camp Sunday, and that ran the table. By then, they had broken just about everything else. They were in Bethlehem for only 11 days in what was outlined as an in-and-out period of preparation.
Barry Bonds stomped on home plate this week with his 756th career home run, fans cheered and TV networks cut into the action and the commissioner issued a statement. Thus, it reiterated the truth: The only person who is ever punished in baseball is Pete Rose.
Aaron Rowand wants to be a Phillie. He wants to be a Phillie at the price the Phillies are willing to pay, and he wants to play hard for them, every inning of every game.
One is a $24 million, free-agent investment, a former first-round draft choice in the prime of his career at age 29. The other has won in double figures 12 times, is a relatively recent All-Star and at age 44 is still a pitching craftsman.
The Phillies' determined march to 10,000 losses would have been over years ago, not stuck now on 9,999, if not for one battle cry and the period of success it inspired.
For the only two reasons that now matter, Curtis Sumpter did not wear a brace on his twice-rebuilt left knee Monday when he worked out for the 76ers at the PCOM Center.
Even with the loss of another pitcher, the Phillies survived a telling, six-game road trip in dignity, then returned for a week that should say anything and everything about their organization. N.L.
From the time they traded Allen Iverson, through the rest of the season and even as Billy King boards a plane today for California, the 76ers have been bombarded with opportunity. They needed draft picks, and they acquired draft picks.
When he was apparently murdered, he was building bridges between crime and decency. Howard Porter was a probation officer working the potholed back streets of St. Paul, Minn. And so it would be that for all his efforts, some work would be left incomplete.
Professional golf is and always has been played for one enduring purpose. Somewhere along the 18-hole journey through all the quiet, there must be something to elicit a roar. Ladies golf now is hearing that elusive sound. And as usual, it is courtesy of Annika Sorenstam.
The NHL scout, once remarkable player, was squirming in the Wachovia Center press box during last season, suffering the commitment of passion-free hockey in an atmosphere better fitting a library. Somebody had to hit something. So he rattled a table with his crooked fist.
The Lakewood Blue Claws were deep into their pregame stretching ritual when it started, and as the familiar figure climbed three dugout steps to join his new teammates in right field, there were murmurs turning to cheers and cheers turning to screeches and screeches becoming plea …
The nose may or may not have become re-straightened, but the bruises would fade, the cuts would heal and, soon enough, Aaron Rowand had to know, he would be back to baseball reality. Then, it would be production, not effort, that would most matter.
PHILADELPHIA -- With their first selection in the draft, the Eagles took a quarterback. As they did, their fans in the audience booed. That was how the Eagles' Donovan McNabb era took off in 1999. That is how the Donovan McNabb era began its descent Saturday.
Since the people have spoken, not to mention the ultimate football results, it is a matter of time before the Eagles listen and act. Soon enough, they will add a big, physical back.
Code of Honor
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