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10. The Eagles had the worst pass defense in the NFL in 1987, allowing a league-high 240 passing yards per game -- at the time 10th-worst in NFL history. That was a year before Eric Allen arrived. Wes Hopkins missed the entire season with a torn ACL, Roynell Young got old overnight, Elbert Foules was dreadful and Terry Hoage was a year away from becoming a terrific safety. Andre Waters, on the other hand, was playing lights out. So late in the season, I wrote a column for my old newspaper, The Burlington County Times, blasting the play of the secondary, although I made sure to mention that Waters was the one exception, that he was playing at a high level. I had just started covering the Eagles during the player strike, taking over the beat when my esteemed colleague Phil Sheridan -- who you remember from his days with the Inquirer and ESPN -- was promoted to general sports columnist. So my piece on the secondary ran in the paper on a Tuesday, and the next day, a bitterly cold December afternoon, I went to watch practice at JFK Stadium.
The Eagles were in the midst of dropping out of the playoff hunt with four losses in five games, and these were tense days around the team. As soon as practice ended, there was Andre in full pads with his intimidating No. 20 jersey and helmet still on stomping along the sideline, screaming at the top of his lungs, "WHERE'S REUBEN FRANK??? WHERE'S REUBEN FRANK???" My initial instinct was to run like hell and hide in a cave in the hills for the rest of my life. But I walked over and said, "I'm Roob." Turns out Andre was furious with the column I wrote. The problem wasn't that I criticized his teammates, it was that I praised him. "We are a team," he told me. "We are a group. We play together, and if we're not playing well, it's all of us, not just two or three of us. You don't praise one of us, you criticize all of us. We're not getting it done as a TEAM. And that means I'm not playing well enough."
We shook hands, and he thanked me for my time. That remains one of my favorite interactions ever with a player in the 35 years I've covered the Eagles. Andre's been gone over 15 years now. God bless him.
The Eagles were in the midst of dropping out of the playoff hunt with four losses in five games, and these were tense days around the team. As soon as practice ended, there was Andre in full pads with his intimidating No. 20 jersey and helmet still on stomping along the sideline, screaming at the top of his lungs, "WHERE'S REUBEN FRANK??? WHERE'S REUBEN FRANK???" My initial instinct was to run like hell and hide in a cave in the hills for the rest of my life. But I walked over and said, "I'm Roob." Turns out Andre was furious with the column I wrote. The problem wasn't that I criticized his teammates, it was that I praised him. "We are a team," he told me. "We are a group. We play together, and if we're not playing well, it's all of us, not just two or three of us. You don't praise one of us, you criticize all of us. We're not getting it done as a TEAM. And that means I'm not playing well enough."
We shook hands, and he thanked me for my time. That remains one of my favorite interactions ever with a player in the 35 years I've covered the Eagles. Andre's been gone over 15 years now. God bless him.
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