Football for the Non-Fanatic

I’m not much of a football fan, but when an Oregon team gets hot, it’s fun to tune in.

I watched the last half of Saturday’s University of Oregon game against Cal, and, like a lot of other Oregonians, I thought the Ducks had it in the bag until that final fumble.

Watching the referees twiddle their thumbs while the Man Upstairs decided whether the fumble would be ruled a touchback, I felt a sense of déjà vu all over again, as Yogi Berra would say.

First of all, I couldn’t help but believe that the call would have gone the other way if it were not for the fiasco last year when the referees were accused of bending their calls for the Ducks and against the University of Oklahoma Whiners — I mean, Sooners.

Second of all, the Ducks deserved to win that game. They were the underdogs, and that alone makes them worthy. I’ll go with the underdogs every time.

And I do know about underdogs. I am a Philadelphia Eagles fan. Really. I don’t usually advertise it, but we all have our little secrets.

The Eagles would be underdogs if they played Grandma Sampson’s Knitting Circle. In fact, if you look up “underdog” in the dictionary, you’d find the Eagles’ team photo. I mean, the Eagles will win the Super Bowl about the time I flap my arms and fly to France.

The reason I root for the Eagles is I went to junior high and high school outside Philadelphia. You either rooted for the Eagles or your tires would be slashed and you’d find yourself flying headfirst into a garbage can.

So every season I start out thinking the Eagles will be great, and every year I have my heart broken. Not really broken. It’s more of a death of a thousand fumbles, flubs and chokes.

I still haven’t recuperated from the 1980 Super Bowl, when the Oakland Raiders rolled over the Eagles. And I mean rolled. I have put the score out of my mind permanently. I think the Raiders were in triple digits toward the end.

I watched that game with several co-workers and had bet them the Eagles would murderize the Raiders. Alas, Eagles quarterback Ron Jaworsky — a.k.a. the Polish Rifle — had the worst game of his career, and Jim Plunkett, the Oakland quarterback, had the best game of his career.

By the time it was all over I was eating crow-flavored popcorn.

There’s an old saying: No one will make a liar out of you faster than your kids.

I have corollary to that: No one will make a liar out of me faster than the Eagles.

That’s why I don’t get excited about sports anymore. Over four decades, I’ve learned my lesson, oh, about 732 million times.

I can embarrass myself just fine, thank you. I just don’t need any help from the Eagles or anyone else.

Ducks fans should take a page from my playbook. A few mistakes and bad calls do not a bad season make.

Unless you’re from Philadelphia.