The wonder from Down Under

The Eagles announced that they had signed 33-year-old Aussie, Saverio Rocca, as a punter today. Rocca, the latest from Australian Rules Football player attempting to make in the NFL as a punter, looks as if he has a really strong leg to go along with some un-punter type athleticism.

But the signing and the fact that Rocca played for 15 seasons in the Australian Rules Football league for teams called the Collingwood Magpies and North Melbourne Kangaroos, isn't the interesting part... well, actually, it kind of is and it makes one wonder why American sports teams have nicknames that are so boring. Plus, with Rocca as the punter, the Eagles' kickers might be as tough as any player on the roster.

Think anyone wants to tangle with David Akers?

Anyway, the interesting thing about Rocca's signing was that the Eagles PR staff sent out a YouTube highlight reel of Rocca's work with the Magpies and Kangaroos:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huMDqWxF6mI]

Looks like this Internet thing is pretty popular.

A conversation between A.I. and Jim Mora

***

Latest on CSN.com: Howard Focused on Big Season, Not Big Contract

Hamels Focused on Health, Winning for '07

***

When we struggle, we reach for help. That's why I've been running with my iPod lately. Of course "struggling" is a relative term, but for some reason I've needed a little extra motivation in order to put in the miles. So in that regard, these digital files that randomly were pumped into my skull during this morning's jaunt:

Love Sick - Bob Dylan
There's a nasty guitar lick on this one that I just can't get enough of.

Trigger Cut - Pavement
Interestingly Mark Ibold, the bassist in Pavement is a Lancasterian and his brother, Hans, was a year ahead of me at J.P. McCaskey. Mark, however, went to Lancaster Country Day, which I am staring at out my window as I type and ran past as this track played... on another note, Pavement's first album is one of those "desert island" type records.

Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield
Believe it or not, there is some interesting guitar work on this one -- OK, that's pushing it... just let me have some fun. Besides, this one worked very well in that bizarre scene in Boogie Nights. You know the one -- John C. Reilly, Thomas Jane and Marky Mark go over to Alfred Molina's house where his houseboy keeps lighting and setting off firecrackers. That scene should be studied in film schools across the country. Rick Springfield should be proud his song was used in that manner.

Southside - Moby
I read something that Moby hated this song and Gwen Stefani's effort in it and that he nearly cut it from the album. It's kind of a cool song, I guess.

There Goes My Gun - The Pixies
From a Peel Session. Wouldn't it be great if there were a way to dig in to John Peel's collection?

Knowing Me, Knowing You - Evan Dando
Just Evan and a guitar playing an ABBA song -- that's hard to beat.

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction - Devo
During the early days of MTV -- back when they showed videos and were interesting -- this was a staple. It also makes me think about a Devo and John Belushi story that can't be repeated here.

Last Exit - Pearl Jam
Recorded in Camden on July 5, 2003. Eddie Vedder was at the Vet that day before a Phillies game and he is really very short... then again, I'm 6-1 so maybe it's not him. Maybe it's me? Nevertheless, I watched and enjoyed Vedder's appearance on Iconoclasts on the Sundance channel where he's spends a day surfing and hanging out with Laird Hamilton in Hawaii. Most impressive is Hamilton who has inspired me to run or bike to the ballpark one day this upcoming summer. It will probably have to be a day game though, because I'm not riding or running home on the Turnpike after dark.

I Will Refuse - Pailhead
Ian MacKaye and Al Jourgensen? Get out of here!

It Didn't Turn Out That Way - Mose Allison
Mose Allison writes and performs perfect songs perfectly. Lately, it's taken force to get me to hit the shuffle button instead of listening to the new Evens record and Mose Allison.

Bonzo Goes to Bitburg - The Ramones
My favorite Ramones song ever.

Bleeding Powers - Ted Leo & The Pharmacists
Ted and the gang has a new album on the way. As a live performer, Ted is hard to beat.

A Doubt - John Frusciante
OK... I forgot to include Frusciante with The Evens and Mose Allison. Better yet, Frusciante's epic output last year is some of the most interesting stuff I've heard in a while. I just don't understand how a guy can put out piles of exciting and great work like Frusciante has and then moonlight in a band as predictable and tired as the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I Grow Cold - Shudder to Think
There was a time when all I listened to was Shudder to Think's "Ten Spot," "Funeral At the Movies," and "Get Your Goat." I think that was 1993 or 1994.

Good Day Sunshine - The Beatles
This one played as I ran by my mom's house and James Buchanan's Wheatland.

Spirit of the Radio - Rush
This one reminds me of walking to school in fifth grade at James Buchanan Elementary. That was about 25 years ago.

Boredom - The Buzzcocks
The Passed covered this one back when we were in high school.

That was fun... maybe I'll try to get out again later since it's supposed to be really cold tomorrow.

What have you done for us lately...

Heard and seen at the Phillies media luncheon on Tuesday:

It seems as if the Phillies have cooled on Chris Coste. With the arrival of Jason Werth, Karim Garcia and Rod Barajas, the Phillies’ bench is packed. That could mean that Coste, who hit nearly .900 (actually.463) last spring training and .328 in 65 games with the Phillies, could be on the outside looking in.

“I like Chris Coste, and the reason I like him is he played good for us,” manager Charlie Manuel said. “The big thing is what happens in spring training. He had a job at the end of last year. Now, he's got to keep it. I'm not going to take it away from him.”

This is different from past comments where Manuel said that Coste didn’t look pretty swinging the bat but he got the job done and lauded him how he caught a lot of big games down the stretch.

Still, as Charlie says, “this game changes every minute.”

Since players like Coste are only as good as their last AB, baseball’s most interesting and a true feel-good story of 2006 seems destined to start 2007 in Ottawa.

Pitching prospect Scott Mathieson showed up at the luncheon after his check-up with team doctor Michael Ciccotti. Mathieson, who underwent Tommy John surgery in September after pitching in nine games for the Phillies in 2006, says he could start throwing in the next two weeks though he isn’t expected to pitch in minor league games until July.

Aaron Rowand says Phillies fans and the writing press will enjoy Freddy Garcia. Not only is he a big-game pitcher, according to Rowand, but also Garcia likes to have fun.

Rowand also said that one of the biggest reasons for the Phillies success in 2006 was the manager.

“He's a big reason the chemistry on this team is as good as it is,” Rowand said about Manuel. “You guys don't get to see it, the fans don't get to see it, because you guys aren't in the clubhouse all the time. You guys aren't in the dugout during the game when he's talking to the guys, when he's conversing with people, helping guys out, pumping guys up. He's one of the best managers I've ever had a chance to play for, and I would have been very sorry to have seen him go after last year.”

Like Coste, newly-signed reliever Antonio Alfonseca has to prove he belongs on the team this spring. Still, the veteran closer could have the inside track on the set-up job in front of Tom Gordon though Manuel says he likes some of the guys already on the roster.

“We need one of our guys to step up. Somebody like Madson or Geary. I definitely think Madson can compete. You guys always talk about how good he could be in the back of the bullpen. I hear our organization talk about how good he could be in the back of the bullpen. The door is open for him,” Manuel said. “[Alfonseca] can definitely take over that job right now. We might have that guy in-house. We need to beef up the back end of our bullpen. The more depth we get in the bullpen, the better we'll be.”

Whoever the set-up man will be, Manuel says he will lean heavily on him in order to keep Gordon fresh and healthy for the entire season.

Talkin' baseball

Jimmy Rollins says the Phillies are the beasts of the NL East.

Cole Hamels chatting with reporters this afternoon.

Charlie Manuel talks baseball with a few writers.

Charlie wants Ryan Howard to just say no to too many interviews.

Best bets

Last week: 2-2

Year-to-date: 27-24-2

It just could be the Magic vs. Bird of this era. Manning vs. Brady. Brady vs. Manning. Talent vs. Grit. The Prodigy vs. Someone Who’s Dad Wasn’t an NFL QB.

The comparisons between Tom Brady and his Super Bowl victories and Peyton Manning and his great regular-season records have even garnered a Wikipedia entry that reads:

Amongst active quarterbacks, Manning is most often compared to New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady. Brady's statistics, while impressive in their own right, do not meet the record-setting level that Manning has established. Brady, however, has won 3 Super Bowls while posting a career 12-1 postseason record, best in NFL history. On the other hand, as Manning's supporters often note, Brady has been supported by great defenses in his Super Bowl runs, whereas Manning's offense is counted on to shoulder most of the load for the Colts. Manning has, however, had the luxury of superstar wide receivers Marvin Harrison and Reggie Wayne, and RB Edgerrrin James for much of his career while Brady is considered to be the only offensive star for the Patriots. The Manning-Brady debate has evoked comparisons to the Marino-Montana debate of the 1980's.

But the on-the-field comparisons are only half of it. Manning and Brady seem as different as night and day. Example? Try this – Manning, even though he is from New Orleans where he attended the same high school as Harry Connick Jr., likes country music. Actually, it’s not even the good country music. It’s the conformist, watered-down-for-mass-production, derivative country music perpetrated by the likes of Kenny Chesney… whoever that is.

Sorry, folks. I hate racism, injustice, poverty, genocide and commercial country music. I can’t help it. What makes it worse is that Manning, from a city with a distinctive and unique music history, allowed himself to photographed with that Kenny Chesney dude.

Whoever that is.

Professor Longhair is from New Orleans, for God’s sake.

But let’s give Manning some credit for one thing – he has a personality. He performs in all of those wacky commercials for some type of product (cell phones? Wireless networks?) that I don’t recognize because I feel that if someone feels the need to make a commercial to tell me how great they are, they have some issues that simple therapy won’t remedy. Plus, they probably don’t have my interests at heart. People, by design, are selfish… and Bleep Commerce!

Diatribe aside, I have no idea what type of music Tom Brady likes. In fact, I have no idea about anything regarding Tom Brady. No one does. Get this – The Smoking Gun searched to find which political party Brady belongs to -- because, as everyone knows, political parties explain everything about a person – only to learn learn that he doesn’t belong to anything.

Is this just pure indifference or because Brady doesn’t want to offend anyone? Maybe it’s kind of like when Michael Jordan didn’t want to endorse Harvey Gantt over Jesse Helms because “Republicans buy sneakers, too.” Smart. Safe. Just like Brady’s game.

But not particularly inspiring – it’s not exactly “I ain't got no quarrel with those Vietcong.”

Put it this way – if there is nothing else on television except for two football games on opposite channels featuring Manning in one game and Brady in the other, which one will you watch?

Right. The one with Manning.

There is one thing we know about Tom Brady besides the fact that he has those Super Bowl victories, went to the same high school as Jim Fregosi, Barry Bonds, Lynn Swann and Gregg Jefferies and played against Bellarmine Prep’s Pat Burrell... Brady also apparently has a thing for Brazilian models.

But then again don’t we all?

Take Manning’s Colts minus 3 over Brady’s Patriots.

Super Saints?
The Internet is a neat thing. Where else would get to see this guy:

The Internet is also a place where that guy was derided and made fun of for being a whack job, which is fair. It’s probably even correct. But let me ask you this… when is the last time an Eagles fan roamed around the parking lot giving the heebee-jeebee to the visiting fans? When the last time an Eagles fan did something other than the tired old fat, drunk and stupid routine?

Perhaps being a unique, whack job with a cape doesn’t work here? Nevertheless, give the guy credit for so baffling the visiting fans from Philly that they couldn’t even beat the guy back with a boo, a drunken right uppercut, or a D battery tossed between the kook’s eyes.

Rumor has it that the guy might show up in Chicago. If that’s the case, take the Saints and the 2½ points over the Bears.

'It won't help anyone... '

I was going to hold a live webcast press conference on this site this afternoon to let the fans know how everything is going and what the organization expects, going forward. However, my wife decided to cancel it.

"He's been working like crazy right now and I don't want anything distracting him," she told the local press. "I want him focused in on taking care of the laundry, yardwork and dishes, and that's what he's doing. He came out (Thursday) and trimmed the bushes out back for the first time and he didn't have a limp when he was finished. Those are all positive things.

"Right now, talking to you guys, it won't help anyone."

Sorry.

Bloggy blog

Though he didn’t even make it through July with the Phillies last season, Sal Fasano left a bigger mark on the Philadelphia sporting scene than Chris Webber ever did. Hell, Dan McQuade of Philadelphia Will Do and the greatest intern in the illustrious history of CSN.com (there was Alex Fineman too, but let’s not rank them… for arguments sake let’s just say McQuade and Fineman are in the Hall of Fame and we’re still thanking our lucky stars that John Turner didn’t set fire to the place), would argue that Fasano needs a plaque on Memory Lane on Ashburn Alley.

Memory Lane and Ashburn Alley haven’t been co-opted by some corporation? What gives?

Anyway, ol’ Sal signed a deal with the Toronto Blue Jays this week, which means he’ll be sending $4 (less Canadian – probably a looner and change) slices of pizza to his “pals” in right field at SkyDome or whatever the hell they call it these days.

Here are the interesting and coincidental parts about Fasano’s signing with the Blue Jays – he’ll train in Dunedin, Fla., just around the corner from Clearwater where the Phillies train. That means all the baseball snowbirds will get plenty of chances to root for ol’ Sal during the Grapefruit League season while others will shake their heads and wonder how a career .221 hitter can warm over the cold-hearted Philly fans, while stars Bobby Abreu and Scott Rolen had such a difficult time with the hometown rooters.

Fasano also could take the roster spot earmarked for catcher Rod Barajas, who spurned the Jays in favor of the Phillies. Barajas will likely split time with Carlos Ruiz behind the plate in 2007, fired his agent and signed with the Phillies.

“I never signed a deal,” Barajas said after signing with the Phillies. “I never gave anybody permission to do a deal. It just wasn't the right fit for me.”

Either way, it was a Phillie who opened the door for Fasano and his mighty Fu Manchu to resurface north of the border. That’s a good thing, Fasano says. You see, after getting traded from the Phillies to the Yankees, Fasano had to give the big, bushy ‘stache a trim since Big Stein likes his Yankees looking like the Vienna Boys Choir. In Fasano’s case, he was allowed to grow a little mustache, but nothing like the Sam Elliott look he was seeking. Instead, Fasano said, he looked like Borat.

That won’t happen in ’07. Fasano is going to be back and as bushy as ever.

“I'm going to go back to the Fu Manchu,” he said. “That's my standard look anyways. I'm growing it out now, getting it ready for the season.”

The facial hair should cover it. Forget about figuring out how to hit those pesky breaking pitches.

More: Manchu dynasty in Toronto? Stay tuned from The Globe & Mail

Now that I have this big, shiny ring, I forget what I was angry about
Speaking of former Phillies and Scott Rolen, it appears as if the gold-glove third baseman and his manager/nuclear scientist, Tony La Russa, have ironed out that tiff that started during last autumn’s playoffs.

What? Rolen not getting along with his manager? Turn the channel Marge; I’ve seen this one before…

For those who don’t remember or simply blocked the memory because they are holding on to some phantom slight regarding Scott Rolen, the Phillies and the beloved City of Brotherly Love (let it go – Rolen doesn’t think about you), the Cardinals won the World Series despite winning fewer games than the Phillies and a post-season benching that became national media fodder.

But the benching proved to be yet another genius move by La Russa, because Rolen – suffering from a tired and sore shoulder worn down after a long season and intensive surgery – couldn’t make an out afterwards. In fact, it took Endy Chavez’s ridiculous, fence-climbing catch to keep the former Phillie from becoming the hero of Game 7 of the NLCS.

But with spring training less than a month away, Rolen feels better than ever, according to a story in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Better yet, he considers the feud ancient history and doesn’t think he and La Russa need to sit down and iron things out.

“We haven't spoken,” Rolen said of La Russa. “I went home. We went about our lives. I don't think there's a conversation in spring that needs to take place.”

Said La Russa in picking up Rolen’s gold glove at a hot stove banquet: “I love Scott Rolen.”

But before anyone says, “yeah, but didn’t he say that before going to spring training in 2002?” And didn’t Larry Bowa say, “I love Scott Rolen… ”

Well, maybe. But Tony La Russa isn’t walking around the corner and ripping Rolen to his front office or favorites in the media. On top of that, Rolen isn’t trying to get himself traded, either. See, the Cardinals won the World Series. Things like that have a tendency to make people feel good about things.

Take Rolen and his shoulder: “I'm a different guy sitting here today than I was sitting here last off season, when I was hopeful or optimistic about the season coming up or about my shoulder progress. When I was here last year, I hadn't lifted a weight yet. I don't think I was capable of lifting a weight. That's not the case anymore. I'm doing my old routine. I am totally free from any limitations.”

Free to do what I want any old time...

More: Rolen feels 'free' in '07 from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch

I’m still not sure about this Jordan character…
In a stunning turn of events (insert sarcasm font here), the Baseball Writers Association of America voted not to permit Internet writers from large news/media conglomerates to become members in 2007. That means guys like Jayson Stark, Jerry Crasnick, Bill Simmons, John Finger, and any other web dude won’t get a vote for anything and will have to fax teams in order to get credentials for specific games.

That’s no really a big deal since I know for a fact that John Finger has a fax machine in his house. Jayson Stark might have one, too. You never know.

Anyway, what’s interesting about this (I know you’re wondering), is that even though all writers of all mediums are writing for the Internet already, the membership of the BBWAA is waiting to see if this Internet stuff is going to take off.

Yes I borrowed that last line from a blogger.

Moreover, perhaps the BBWAA is waiting a few years until the names of the newspapers are changed from the arcane like The Philadelphia Inquirer or The Washington Post to something snappier like philly.com or washingtonpost.com.

True story: back in 1999 when I was working for a newspaper in Pennsylvania I noticed the stacks and stacks of old newspapers taking up space and thought, “why don’t we just put all this on the web already. What kind of dinosaur goes out and buys a newspaper?”

And look where we are now… but don’t laugh TV. The web is coming for you next.

… Where’s my money?
Arbitration-eligible players and teams exchanged salary figures this week, and locally nothing really stood out. For the Phillies, Geoff Geary asked for $950,000 and was offered $750,000; Brett Myers asked for $5.9 million and was offered $5 million; while Chase Utley asked for $6.25 million and was offered $4.5 million.

If there is one thing the Phillies do well it’s handling potentially messy arbitration cases. Expect deals to be made before anyone gets near the courthouse.

Perhaps they missed the point
Philadelphia native and big-time writer Joe Queenan wrote the best and most thought provoking essay on the Rocky Balboa phenomenon in Philadelphia and all most bloggers could do was point out that he doesn’t know where the Rocky statue is located these days.

Hey, I don’t know where the hell the Rocky statue is, either. Oh sure, I’ve seen it. Just like I’ve seen those paintings of Elvis, still life and setting suns on velvet that people sell on the sidewalk at the bottom of the exit ramp. Same difference to me though one you can hang in your house and the other birds to the bathroom on.

Nevertheless, Queenan asks real questions that will undoubtedly fall on deaf ears. That’s normal, I guess, just like ripping on a guy who doesn’t know where a statue of a cartoon character is located.

Anyway, read what Queenan writes if you can get past the part about the Rocky statue not being located outside of the Spectrum. It’s good for you.

Then tell me when and where they moved the big hunk of junk.

More: America's great white hope? From The Guardian

In case you missed it
The running world is all atwitter about recent events and upcoming races featuring some of the brightest American stars pounding the pavement. Of course the big name these days is Ryan Hall, the defending national cross-country champion, who shattered the American record in the half marathon with a 59:43 in Houston.

The old record was a shade more than an hour (60:55) set in Philadelphia by Mark Curp in 1985. Hall’s run in Houston is the ninth-fastest half marathon ever and the fastest by a non-African runner.

Some of called Hall’s performance one of the greatest runs by an American ever at any distance and he even made it to page 3 of the sports section in USA Today, which is like a ticker-tape parade in running circles. You see, like soccer, distance running doesn’t get a lot of media coverage in the United States. However, hockey does … insert your own wisecrack or misplaced anger here.

But what has everyone as messy a kid in a pile of spaghetti sauce and melted chocolate is that Hall is running in the National Cross Country Championships in Boulder on Feb. 10. There, he will be running against the best of the best of American runners, including, Olympic silver medallist marathoner Meb Keflezighi, Abdi Abdirahman (2:08:56 in Chicago), Alan Culpepper (2:10 in Boston), Adam Goucher (former cross-country champ), Jorge Torres, and cult hero/superstar Dathan Ritzenhein.

Forget about the field, because first of all, the championships are in Boulder, which is the Mecca of American running. Mix in the field and it’s like going to Las Vegas for a heavyweight fight featuring Mike Tyson, Ali, Joe Frazier, Michael Jordan, Wilt Chamberlain, Secretariat and Tiger Woods in the ring at the same time.

It’s a really big deal.

Still, 2007 is shaping up to be another hype-filled year for running. Coming in April the London Marathon has put together another star-studded field, and in November the Olympic marathon trials will take place in the middle of Manhattan.

So to celebrate Hall’s run in Houston I went out and ran 13.1 today (and the day before, and the day before that and the day before that, but not the day before that – I did 17 that day), but didn’t come close to his record with a rather pedestrian 1:26:14.

Then I went home and ate three Clif Bars.

Pops

Ed. note: Every once in a while we like to open to floor to contributors. Actually, the way it works is if someone I know wants to write something and wants to get it out there, they ask me and I post it. It's quite a discerning process. Be that as it may, CSN.com alum and sometime freelancer, John Turner, offered today's post. Under the circumstances we thought it was a really good idea. by John Turner

On most normal Monday afternoons in January, the gym at Nazareth Academy high school is filled with the sounds of bouncing basketballs, giggling high-school girls and coaches who stress the importance of “valuing the basketball” and giving “a maximum effort.”

January 15, however, was not a normal Monday. Around 1:45 that afternoon, as I was preparing to head to Nazareth, where I am in my first year as JV head coach and varsity assistant, I received the news from our athletic director that assistant coach John Godfrey, father of head coach Greg Godfrey and a man affectionately know to the girls as “Pops,” had taken ill during a racquetball match and had been rushed to the hospital.

Just before making the turn on to Grant Avenue, my cell phone rang and my stomach dropped. Greg’s girlfriend Gerri Lynn, barely able to speak, told me that Pops had passed away. His death is a harrowing loss to our basketball program, school and the human race. He is one of the finest gentlemen I have ever known.

When Greg was hired in May of 2006 to coach the Pandas he went through several different options for who would be his top assistant coach. After much consideration he asked his father if he would be up for the job.

Pops was reluctant. Of course he had to check with his wife Carol and he wasn’t altogether sure that he wanted to put work, fishing and time down in Ocean City on the backburner to be an assistant coach.

After weighing his options, Pops decided to join Greg. From May until his death, his dedication to the team was unparalleled. Joining the coaching staff myself in September, both Greg and Pops welcomed me not only into the Nazareth family, but their own. The three of us have spent countless hours coaching the girls, scouting games and simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk about Eagles football, fishing, and life in general, but nothing brought a smile to Pops’ face as much when we talked about Nazareth basketball and his girls.

Pops was the glue that kept everything together. Most coaches strive to be respected by their players and love is just icing on the cake. The girls felt both for Pops. They would run through a brick wall for him because they knew he would do it for them. After all, he was their Pops.

For me personally, Pops always provided a calming effect. Nervous as a first year coach, all it took was a glance or a word or two from Pops to reassure me that I was doing a good job. After a 0-6 start to the JV season, it was Pops that could always help me see the little improvements that the girls were making every day. After all, success is not always measured in wins and losses and Pops knew this.

Before Pops’ last game on Jan. 6, the girls knew he was going away. He had a fishing trip to Guatemala planned and much to his chagrin was going to miss two Nazareth games.

On the chalkboard before the game he wrote three numbers on the board. The first two represented the number of points he wanted the team to score (60), the second was the maximum number of turnovers he wanted (12), and the third, 14, drew curious stares from each of the girls.

After a few puzzled guesses at what 14 represented, Pops asked “How many girls are in this room?” After the girls realized that there were 14 of them, Pops said, “That’s right. I want to get all 14 of you in the scorebook!” He got his wish as every single girl played and the team cruised to a 46-27 victory over visiting Sacred Heart. From top to bottom, the man never had favorites; he just wanted to be sure that every girl be given an opportunity.

The girls sent him away with a victory and even though he was on vacation, he still called Greg everyday to find out how things were going. He was elated with the team’s Thursday victory over Villa Joseph Marie, another game in which all 14 girls saw action, and took a Saturday loss to Villa Maria in stride as usual.

To the very end, Pops was the consummate coach. Among the possessions he had on him when he died was a piece of paper that said “Keys to beating Gwynedd.” Gwynedd was Nazareth’s scheduled opponent for Tuesday. I told Greg to make sure he didn’t lose that paper, not because it was a sentimental keepsake, but because more likely than not Pops had a strategy that would help us beat Gwynedd.

In his short time at Nazareth, Pops formed a lasting bond with the girls on the team. He loved them and they loved him. While sadness and tears are the order of the day for the Fighting Pandas, I am sure that when they are older they will look back on the time they did get with Pops with fondness and love. I know I already do.

Shortly after his death, Greg told me that someone asked him who would replace Pops on our staff. Greg told them no one. After all, how do you replace a legend?

Besides, Pops isn’t really gone. He’s just watching his girls from a different seat.

e-mail John Turner

Not to beat a dead horse but someone get my whip…

Salon.com’s King Kaufman wrote in today’s column that he talked to a stathead friend following the Eagles’ loss to the Saints on Saturday night and his knee-jerk reaction that punting on 4th-and-15 with 1:56 to go was the wrong move was, well, statistically correct.

Kaufman writes: The bottom line: “We estimate that Philadelphia's win probability is about 0.11 if they go for the first down, compared to about 0.05 if they punt. By choosing to punt with 1:56 left against New Orleans, Andy Reid halved his team's likelihood of winning.”

To punt or not to punt

So we’re still talking about 4th-and-15. Of course by “we” I mean the royal “we.” You know, the editorial “we.” Nevertheless, “we” still would have punted on the 4th-and-15 even though there was only 1:56 left in the game and the Eagles appeared to have converted on the 4th-and-10 before it was nullified on a penalty.

Initially, I wasn’t aware that there was 1:56 remaining in the game, which kind of changed things a little bit. With so little time remaining the proverbial onus was really piled on the Eagles’ defense. They really had to stop the Saints despite the fact that Deuce McAllister and Reggie Bush had, as Col. Hap Hapablap says, torn through them like a tissue at a snot party.

But, it was no secret that the Saints were going to run the ball. The Eagles knew that, which is why they punted. It’s just that they couldn’t stop them. It’s as simple as that.

Meanwhile, one thing no one has mentioned is the punt. It was a high, easy-to-fair-catch boot that gave the Saints starting position at their own 22 that went just 39 yards. That’s a good punt for an above-average high schooler, but suppose punter Dirk Johnson was able to kick a 45-yarder? Or a 50 yarder? Does that change things?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Either way, it doesn’t seem as if anyone will stop talking about 4th-and-15 any time soon. It also appears as if the punt will be a part of Andy Reid’s coaching legacy. Only another Super Bowl appearance can make the decision to kick the ball away nothing more than a cloudy memory.

Hey, at least he didn’t call time out before opting to punt… and say what you will, deciding to punt on 4th-and-15 with 1:56 to go is not the reason the Eagles lost to the Saints on Saturday.

In other news, the Phillies open up camp in Clearwater in 30 days.

No dice... too much Deuce

… but it didn’t result to much.

The Eagles’ failure to capitalize on the lone turnover of the game could result in their undoing. Instead, Drew Brees learned from his laissez flip and smartly gave the ball to Deuce McAllister neatly and carefully.

Was he trying to make it more interesting?

Either way, too much Deuce and the Eagles’ defense that could not stop the run reared its head, again. Afterwards, the chatter was that the Eagles made a mistake in not going for it on 4th and 15 late in the game… I don’t know about that. Sure, the defense was beat and was not able to stop McAllister at all, but a good punt and one stand would have given the team a chance.

Conversely, if the Eagles had converted on fourth down, overtime is happening right now.

Instead, McAllister ran it up the middle, milked the clock and kept the Saints’ magical season alive with his 143 yards on 21 carries.

Lost in this was Westbrook's nice game (13 for 116) and another solid effort from Jeff Garcia (15 for 30 for 240), and perhaps the stalwart quarterback's last game in Philadelphia. Who knows, maybe he played himself into a starting job and bigger contract next season?

Regardless, I'll leave the football speculation for smarter folks... I'm going to turn my attention to the local baseball club.

Good night.

A gift from the football gods?

Sleeping beauty as awakened and is cursing the Eagles’ defense with less than seven minutes to go in the game. Frankly, I’m a little surprised that the Saints have attempted a couple of passes during this series. They’ve had so much success riding McAllister, you’d figure they would try to pound the Eagles down to a little nub while keeping that clock in motion.

But what do I know.

Nevertheless, the Saints seem to have found their rhythm. The pressure is on the Eagles’ defense to make a stand so that they can hand the ball over the offense and put the pressure on them.

Football is a cruel game like that.

And then it happened…

Crunch time

Third quarter vitals:
Saints ran 16 plays for 147 yards and 14 points.
Eagles ran 11 plays for 124 yards and 7 points.

This is a really good game.

On another note, it’s good to see the Punt, Pass & Kick kids out on the field at the end of the third quarter. Better yet, get a good look at those kids now because they’re going places – after all, you’re reading the words of the 1979 trophy winner from the Washington, D.C. area.

Damn right.

Who has No. 26?

I’m no expert so I don’t know why Deuce McAllister is running all over the Eagles. Is it because they are eyeballing Reggie Bush too much? Or is it because they are keying on Drew Brees?

Whatever it is, McAllister is having a game and he’s making it look easy. His 11-yard catch was his second TD of the game and gave the Saints a 27-21 lead. It was also his fourth catch for 20 yards to go with 12 rushes for 110 yards.

So what’s the deal? Is Jim Johnson going to figure this out before it’s too late?

Keep your eyes open

So a guy gets up to go into the kitchen to poke around in the refrigerator and the next thing he see is the Eagles kicking off after a replay of Brian Westbrook’s back dashing 62 yards down the field for a touchdown.

Serves me right.

Westbrook’s run is the longest touchdown dash in Eagles’ playoff history, breaking the 48-yarder Westbrook had last week against the Giants. More interestingly, the Eagles have had four series in which they ran just three plays and have scored in two of them.

Either way, the Saints counterpunched with a big drive of their own culminating in Deuce McAllister’s pack-moving, 5-yard run to make it 21-20.

Don’t blink and stay out of the kitchen.

Backatcha

Following Reggie Bush’s touchdown, the Eagles marched right down the field using a bunch of creative plays as well as some deft running and throwing by Jeff Garcia. With all of that it looks as if the slugfest that was advertised is on.

Brian Westbrook dropped a sure-bet TD pass on a well-established screen pass, but gave the Birds the 14-13 lead when he dived in from a yard or two out. More telling than Westbrook recovering from the drop to score was that it took the Eagles 11 plays and 4:39 to go 80 yards for the go-ahead touchdown.

Try this – the Eagles lead the game despite being out-rushed 97-14.

Reg-gie! Reg-gie!

Reggie Bush could have been tackled as soon as he ran off the rear of his left guard. Instead he bounced to his right, ran hard at an angle to the corner and barely got his right foot inside of the pylon for a touchdown.

It was a pretty good play against some decent defense.

Better yet, didn’t we see Bush crawling around on all fours after Sheldon Brown put that big hit on him during the opening possession? It seems as if Reggie Bush is pretty tough and it seems as if his Saints have a 13-7 lead.

Reggie is supposed to be the one Bush to save New Orleans. Actually, it might not be as drastic as that, but he appears to have lifted some of the spirits of the folks in New Orleans. The announcers at the Super Dome can’t stop talking about how loud the joint is as they all chanted “Reg-gie! Reg-gie!” after the go-ahead TD.

Personally, my Reggie of choice is No. 44. If there was ever one player I would have liked to cover on a regular basis it’s Reggie Jackson of Cheltenham, Pa.

How much fun would that have been? No one would have had to dig for a story. Reggie would have one for you every day.

Go long...

Donte' Stallworth used to play for the Saints. He was there last season when it looked as if the world was going to end and, undoubtedly, feels some attachment for that great, suffering city.

It also well known that Stallworth wasn’t too happy to leave New Orleans and, suffice it to say, wouldn’t mind seeing the Saints’ season end tonight. So to further that cause, Stallworth got as wide open as a receiver can get and fielded Jeff Garcia’s long, high-dangling bomb like it was a punt. With another nifty little cutback across the grain, Stallworth had the longest touchdown reception in the Eagles’ playoff history with his 75-yard snag good enough to give his new team a 7-6 lead.

Is that touchdown grab the one to get the Eagles going? They really haven’t looked too inspiring thus far. In fact, my wife expressed her boredom, tossed aside her magazine and fell asleep on the couch. Still, she made it longer than I expected. Earlier I guessed she would fall asleep with 10 minutes to go in the first quarter…

Hey, what do you want? It’s been a long day, she has an active 2½ –year old boy, she’s pregnant and God knows I’m no day at the beach, either.

One more thing about Stallworth: he was a member of the champion Lancaster Crackers in the PSFL.

Si, Un chien andalou, si

Eagles’ linebacker Dhani Jones claims to be a fan of Salvador Dali. I’m wondering if Jones finds Dali’s collaborations with Man Ray, Luis Buñuel or Walt Disney most appealing?

My guess is that Jones likes the melting clocks, or The Persistence of Memory as it’s better known. Just don't tell me that those clocks are a metaphor for the Eagles' season.

It would be nice if Jones tackled as well as he talked, huh? If so, the saints' would not have out-rushed the Eagles 71-6 in the first quarter and it wouldn't be 6-0 early in the second quarter thanks to a few long passes from Drew Brees and another field goal from John Carney.

Sidenote: Dhani Jones and I have the same ART therapist. Mark Simoneau, Duce Staley, Joey Porter and a bunch of other Steelers and Ravens also see my guy.

On another note, don't let anyone tell you ART or chiropractic treatments don't work. They do.

Not so easy anymore

Of all the great American cities, New Orleans is the one place I always wanted to visit but never had the chance. What’s not alluring about The Big Easy? Wine, women and song? It’s like every day is the Mummer’s Day parade in New Orleans, only, you know… it’s cool.

I wanted to go to New Orleans before I read John Kennedy Toole’s A Confederacy of Dunces or watched Easy Rider. When I was in college – and even a few years afterwards -- Mardi Gras looked like it was the must-take trip despite assurances from former New Orleans residents that it was “garbage.” But truth be told I’m in love with that crazy, hoodoo-voodoo jazz music, and if I ever have my way, I want to have a New Orleans-style funeral.

No sense getting everyone down. Why not be happy and think, “Man, we’re sorry that you’re gone but we’re sure glad that you got to be here… let’s celebrate.”

That just seems to make a lot more sense than the cold grimness that accompanies most wakes.

That was then, of course. I don’t think I want to go to New Orleans these days. You know, after. It just breaks my heart too much and even a New Orleans-themed dirge can’t liven my spirit.

That could change, though, as long as the “new” New Orleans isn’t some manufactured, homogeneous Manayunk-looking frat boy/yuppie haven. New Orleans was always appealing because it was down-and-dirty with that don’t-worry-be-happy vibe sung by Satchmo with Dr. John on the keys and the Marsalis and Neville brothers on the backup.

I can go to a Starbucks or Fridays in any suburb anywhere.

Anyway, it looks as if the Eagles’ defense is struggling against the running game with Deuce McAllister racking up 44 yards on three carries. One of those rushes – a 28-yarder up the gut – set up John Carney’s 33-yard field goal for the game’s first points.

Meanwhile, the Eagles’ offense appears to be struggling, too. The only thing keeping the Eagles in it has been the Saints’ mistakes. So far the Saints have the remedy for Brian Westbrook.