The Silver Linings Playbook - By Matthew Quick Page 0,23
- shooting out two arms and a leg to make an E, touching our fingertips high above our heads to make an A, and so forth.
When we finish, my brother makes his way around the couch, puts an arm around my shoulders, and starts to sing the fight song, which I remember and sing with him. "Fly, Eagles, fly! On the road to victory!" I'm so happy to be singing with my brother I do not even get mad at him for putting his arm around me. We walk around the couch as we sing, "Fight, Eagles, fight! Score a touchdown, one, two, three!" I look at my dad, and he does not look away, but only starts singing with more enthusiasm. Ronnie throws his arm around me, and then I am in between my brother and my best friend. "Hit 'em low. Hit 'em high. And watch our Eagles fly!" I see that my mom has come in to watch, and she has her hand over her mouth again like she does whenever she is about to laugh or cry - her eyes look happy, so I know she is laughing under her hands. "Fly, Eagles, fly! On the road to victory!" And then Ronnie and Jake remove their arms from my neck so they can make the letters again with their bodies. "E!-A!-G!-L!-E!-S! EAGLES!" We're all red-faced, and my father is breathing heavy, but everyone is so happy, and for the first time I really feel like I am home.
My mom sets up the food on TV trays, and the game begins. "I'm not supposed to drink," I say when Mom distributes the bottles of Budweiser, but my father says, "You can drink beer during Eagles games." Mom shrugs and smiles as she hands me a cold beer. I ask my brother and Ronnie why they aren't also wearing Baskett jerseys, since Baskett is the man, and they tell me the Eagles were able to trade for Donte Stallworth, and that Donte Stallworth is now the man. Because I am wearing my Baskett jersey, I insist that Baskett is the man, to which my father blows air through his teeth, and my cocky brother says, "We'll see soon," which is a weird thing for him to say, considering he was the one who gave me the Baskett jersey in the first place and just two weeks ago assured me that Baskett was really the man.
My mother watches the game nervously, like she always does, because she knows that if the Eagles lose, my father will be in a bad mood for an entire week and will yell at her a lot. Ronnie and Jake trade facts about different players and check the screens on their cell phones for updates on other games and players, because they both play fantasy football, which is a computer game that gives you points for picking players who score touchdowns and gain yardage. And I glance over at my father from time to time, making sure he sees me cheering, because I know he is only willing to sit in the same room with his mentally deranged son as long as I am rooting for the Birds with everything I got. I have to admit that it feels good to sit in the same room with my father, even though he hates me and I still have not forgiven him a hundred percent for kicking me in the attic and punching me in the face.
The Houston Texans score first, and Dad starts cursing pretty loudly, so much that my mother leaves the room, saying she will bring us new beers, and Ronnie stares at the television, pretending he has not heard what my father has said, which is, "Play some fucking defense, you piece-of-shit overpaid secondary! This is the Texans, not the Dallas Cowgirls. The fucking Texans! Jesus fucking Christ!"
"Relax, Dad," Jake says. "We got this."
Mom distributes the beers, and Dad sips quietly for a while, but when McNabb throws an interception, my father starts pointing his finger at the television and cursing even louder, saying things about McNabb that would make my friend Danny go wild, because Danny says only black people can use the n-word.
Luckily, Donte Stallworth is indeed the man, because when McNabb starts throwing to him, the Eagles build a lead and Dad stops cursing and starts to smile again.
At halftime, Jake talks my dad into joining us outside for a catch, and then the four of us are