
On a Monday night in Philadelphia 34 years ago, the Washington Redskins played the Philadelphia Eagles in what went down in sports infamy as “The Body Bag Game.” Watching that was one of the worst experiences of my sports-viewing career spanning 55 or so years and 550,797 games.
On their way to winning 28-14, the Eagles injured nine Redskin players. Staying on Philadelphia’s classy brand, Eagles safety William Frizell asked after the game: “Do you guys need any more body bags?”
He mocked all the serious injuries such as:
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Jeff Rutledge (broken thumb)
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Stan Humphries (sprained knee)
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Gerald Riggs (sprained foot)
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Walter Stanley (sprained knee)
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Joe Howard (concussion, carried off on a stretcher)
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Greg Manusky (sprained knee)
I can’t recall if the Philly fans cheered when the injuries happened – I bet they did. It would have been a Philly fan thing to do.
Irks me to this second.
Some things you never forget. Including what happened a few weeks later when the Redskins shut up the Eagles in the playoffs with a 20-6 victory.
“We sent a message, and we sent it in body bags,” said Redskins defensive lineman Charles Mann.
That whole punch and counter-punch vitriol captures the visceral disdain these two teams have forever had for each other. They meet this weekend in the NFL championship game with a Super Bowl trip for the winner. High stakes, high drama, high dislike.
The rivalry has always been and always will be a combustible, anti-social powderkey of NFC East contenders who can’t stand pretty much everything about each other.
Deep antipathy brings out the body bag banter.
I hate the Eagles. Everyone in Washington does too.
When I was 7 years old I attended my first Redskins game and it was against the Eagles who won the game. Made the first experience miserable and the billion times since the two teams have played this unlikable nemesis I have felt not a smidge of sympathy or empathy for them. Only antipathy.
Yesterday Skins fans were rooting for the Rams to beat the Eagles so the Skins would avoid having to beat the supposedly all-powerful Eagles. I wasn’t one of them. I want the Eagles and that former Giants Sakwon Jewelry Store. Any guy who has played on the Giants – a team I abhor every bit as much as the Eagles – and the Eagles will never be one of my guys. I don’t speak with Rich Butler, a Giants fan, because he’s unbearable about his team. He brings into my life not a scintilla of joy. Avoid people who bring you down.
Jewelry Store has always been with the other guys, the annoying guys.
I have some rather distant and not very close kind “friends” who are Eagles fans. And they know who they are. Zucca’s OK and Brock is tolerable, but I would invite others to my house for a barbecue or to join the Sammy Sportface Baby Boomer Brotherhood unless they paid a monthly subscription fee.
Remember, Snake, when I was a freshman in college and you gave me a ton of trash every day thinking you were cool or something because you rooted for the Eagles and were a tough Northeastern guy?
I still remember that. You revealed who you are then and haven’t stopped since.
Philadelphia has only one redeeming thing about it. The incomparable Rocky Balboa trained there, ran the streets, punched cattle in the meat refrigerator, knocked out Apollo Creed and Clubber Lang, married Adrian and had a kid, and had a statue of himself erected at the top of some city building steps and threw his motorcycle helmet at it one time when he was frustrated.
Everything about Rocky’s story, from the underdog role to the hard work to being honest about his fears about getting back in the ring, resonates and inspires me.
Conversely, everything about the Eagles and those associated with Philadelphia, underscored by the classless and callous mocking of my team’s players in The Body Bag Game, turns me off.
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
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