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  • HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

    To the Dads, and the non-Dads, and all Eagle brothers.





    Eagles, Dads Form A Special, Lasting Bond

    June 16, 2007
    By DAVE SPADARO

    It's something that starts from the moment dad can put his child in front of anything Eagles green: It is a way of life, of raising a kid the right way, of sharing time with fathers everywhere.

    The Eagles and dads share so much time, so much emotion, so many experiences. This is a weekend to celebrate dads, and in the same breath Eagles and fathers and sons and daughters are all linked forever.

    Now we celebrate it all, every bit of it: Dads, Eagles, kids and memories.

    How many of you were weaned on Sunday afternoons and Eagles games? Whether you watched on television, or made the trip to the stadium, or simply lived by the emotions of your father based on how the Eagles played: Dad was always happy after an Eagles win, and he was always mad about something for days and days and days after an Eagles loss.

    Everyone has cherished moments with Eagles football and dad together. Mine came later in life. Early on, football was not a religion in my house. I remember becoming hooked on the NFL in 1972 when my father and I watched Joe Namath and the Jets battle Johnny Unitas and the Baltimore Colts in an epic battle. We sat there at 1297 Country Lane in West Chester in our living room in the split-level home in which I spent my years until age 20.

    The Eagles were a passing thought in the house then. They weren't a good team, and even when we watched and I was all twisted in the throes of the game, my dad would always tell me the Eagles were not going to win.

    "They'll find a way to lose, son," was what he always said.

    And back in those days, that is what usually happened.

    Then Dick Vermeil became head coach and the Eagles become a real team and then they reached the playoffs and then even the most ardent doomsayers -- my dad included -- came around and jumped on the bandwagon. We never went to a game -- I still, to this day, have never attended an Eagles game as a fan (although some would say I have attended every game as a fan -- because we just didn't have a lot of money and my father never sunk his heart and soul into the team.

    In 1980, though, we were just like every family in the Delaware Valley. The Eagles were good -- every team in Philadelphia was good -- and the Spadaro family watched every game. The NFC Championship Game was a thrill, and my father yelled and screamed and jumped around like all of us.

    The Eagles were going to the Super Bowl!

    That Super Bowl game was a bummer -- I vividly remember writhing around on the living room floor watching Oakland beat the punchless Eagles 27-10 in Super Bowl XV -- and the party we had deflated quickly and, yes, my father told me once again: "David, the Eagles will find a way to lose."

    For many years after that, Eagles football was not much of a part of my time with Dad. I was into my late teens. My mother was sick. I had a job and my dad had to take care of the household.

    My mother passed away after my sophomore year in college and then my father moved closer to his job, in Baltimore. I finished college and got into the business -- one that Dad took a long, long time to understand -- and then, starting in 1987, I was covering the Eagles for a daily newspaper. In 1989, we started Eagles Digest and suddenly, the Eagles were a bigger part of my relationship with my father.

    He started taking a keener interest in the team. He enjoyed the victories more and hurt with the losses because he saw how I hurt.

    As the years passed, Dad and I spent more and more time talking about the Eagles. He came to a few games and once helped me in the press box and we stood on the field at Veterans Stadium as Eric Allen intercepted a Redskins pass to perserve an Eagles victory. I saw my dad moved that day -- amazed by the sheer spectacle of the NFL and of the sound on the field at Veterans Stadium -- and he grinned ear to ear the whole rest of the day. He loved every minute of the experience.

    Dad came to a few games at Lincoln Financial Field since 2003 and always loved the experience. The seats were roomy. The view was great. The video boards made for a terrific fan experience, even if I was always too busy with work to see him once the game began.

    In February of 2005, Dad and his wife drove from their vacation in Hilton Head, South Carolina to Jacksonville, FL and arrived at my hotel room on the morning of the Super Bowl. By now, he was immersed in the Eagles, in my experience. He had met Andy Reid and spent time with him, and he had been greeted by Donovan McNabb and had seen the life I lived in my career.

    So this was a thrill. This was the thrill. The Eagles were in the Super Bowl again and I was sharing the day with my dad. Of course, the Eagles lost the game. It was a bitter defeat, a painful loss. The team held a party that night at the team hotel, a party that was simply fantastic and beautiful and elaborate and my father stayed up late, late, late into the night. I turned in early, exhausted, drained, knowing I had to get up early the next morning.

    I have thought about that game hundreds of times since it ended, as we all have. My depression was deep, yet I also knew -- and still know -- that I had the opportunity to give my father one of the best days of his life and, certainly, of mine. He was able to see his son at the pinnacle of a career and he knew I appreciated being there and that I loved every second of it.

    Knowing how much it meant to my father to be there that day lessened the pain of losing to New England. How bad could it be for me, understanding how much it meant for my father and how he had the time of his life in a 24-hour period?

    My father died two weeks ago at the age of 83. He was a proud man, a wonderful man and a great father. He died with dignity, with his family around him, with a zest for living and loving right to the very end.

    In the end, the bond I shared with my father included the Eagles far more than I could have ever imagined when I was a young boy yelling at the television every Sunday hoping the Eagles would "find a way to win." Dad and I didn't sit around dissecting the team. I'm sure he complained and moaned about the Eagles after a loss, just like he had done for years before. But he never gave me the negative. He was always supportive and hopeful of things to come when we talked about the team, and he was always so impressed by Reid and McNabb that he rooted hard for the team to win.

    This is a weekend to think about those times with my father and the Eagles. This is a weekend for all of you to share some time with your father, to tell him you love him and that all of the times you spent with him rooting on the Eagles will always be special to you.

    He is the one, after all, who planned your life around the Eagles before you even knew you had a life. He made it part of your fabric and he experienced the highs and lows just like you.

    This is to all the dads out there who have tried to raise their kids the right way: Bleed Eagles green, now and forever more.
    "Philly fans are great....It's the only place where you pull up on the bus and you've got the grandfather, the grandmother, the kids and the grandkids - everybody flicking you off. At other stadiums, they give you the thumbs-down. Here, they give you the middle finger.”
    — Michael Strahan

    "No one likes us, no one likes us, no one likes us, we don’t care, we’re from Philly, F—-ing Philly, No one likes us, we don’t care!”
    - Jason Kelce with the best championship speech ever

  • #2
    Last night I became the proud papa of a baby bird. (Not an EAGLE, unfortunately..)

    Just got in from my evening walk to find a baby bird huddled up agaist my doorway. My cat takes walks with me, and she spotted him at about the same time iI did. I wasn't fast enough to keep her from getting to him, but smacked her in the ass and ran her off in time to see no damage was done. Anyway, I brought the younun inside, got the cat inside the garage, and went out hunting for the parents. Mamma came around and squaked at me, and I told her I kew who she was looking for......

    I brought the baby back out, and couldn't find where the nest was. I put the kid in one of my big Hibiscus bushes, and left him with a few bread crumbs.

    This morning I went out to the patio, and mom and pop were there making trips back and forth to the bush to feed Junior. I reached into the bush and picked him up, and his ma yelled at me for a bit. Typical woman! I saved your kid's life last night!!!!!!

    I dropped some bread crumbs down near the bush, and spent my morning cup of coffee watching her give the bread to him in little bits. He's to big for her to try to carry back to their nest, wherever it is, and he's not quite flight ready himself yet, so I'll be playing daddy for a few weeks I guess.

    I provide for, but get no thanks. Guess that's what being a father is all about. LOL!

    HAPPY DADDY'S DAY!
    http://shop.cafepress.com/content/global/img/spacer.gifOK, let's try this again...

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    • #3
      Good job Fresh. I'll pt another baby ...nest? in the bandwagon for you. Remember to buy the little guy his first Eagles jersey before the season starts!!

      Happy Pappy Day to all the Fathers out there!!!
      Official Driver of the Eagles Bandwagon!!!
      Bleedin' Green since birth!

      "Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many." - Mike Willey

      ”Enjoy The Ride!!!” - Bob Marcus

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