The Silver Linings Playbook - By Matthew Quick Page 0,37
lines, and with hundreds of other fans, we wait to be frisked. I don't remember being frisked at the Vet. I wonder when it became necessary to frisk people at NFL games, but I do not ask Jake, because he is now singing "Fly, Eagles, Fly" with hundreds of other drunken Eagles fans.
After we are frisked, we climb the steps and have our tickets scanned, and then we are inside of Lincoln Financial Field. People everywhere - it's like a hive full of green bees, and the buzz is deafening. We often have to turn sideways just to squeeze between people as we walk the concourse to get to our section. I follow Jake, worrying about getting separated, because I would be lost for sure.
We hit the men's room, and Jake gets everyone inside to sing the Eagles fight song again. The lines for the urinals are long, and I am amazed that no one pees in the sinks, because at the Vet - at least up in the 700 Level - all sinks were used as extra urinals.
When we finally get to our seats, we are in the end zone, only twenty or so rows up from the field.
"How did you get such good tickets?" I ask Jake.
"I know a guy," he replies, and smiles proudly.
Scott is already seated, and he congratulates me on my fight, saying, "You knocked that fucking Giants fan out cold!" which makes me feel awful again.
Jake and Scott high-five just about everyone in the section, and as the other fans call Scott and my brother by name, it becomes obvious that they are quite popular here.
When the beer man comes around, Scott buys us a round, and I am amazed to find a cup holder in the seat in front of me. You would never see such a luxury item at the Vet.
Just before the Eagles' players are announced, clips from the Rocky movies are shown on the huge screens at each end of the field - Rocky running by the old Navy Yard, Rocky punching sides of beef in the meat locker, Rocky running up the steps of the art museum - and Jake and Scott keep saying, "That's you. That's you," until I worry that someone will hear them, understand that I just fought the Giants fan in the parking lot, and tell the police to take me back to the bad place.
When the Eagles' starting lineup is announced, fireworks explode and cheerleaders kick and everyone is standing and Jake keeps on pounding my back with his hand and strangers are high-fiving me, and suddenly I stop thinking about my fight in the parking lot. I begin to think about my dad watching the game in our family room - my mother serving him buffalo wings and pizza and beers, hoping the Eagles win just so her husband will be in a good mood for a week. I again wonder if my dad will start talking to me at night if the Eagles pull out a victory today, and suddenly it's kickoff and I am cheering as if my life depends on the outcome of the game.
The Giants score first, but the Eagles answer with a touchdown of their own, after which the whole stadium sings the fight song - punctuated by the Eagles chant - with deafening pride.
Late in the first quarter, Hank Baskett gets his first catch of his NFL career - a twenty-five-yarder. Everyone in our section high-fives me and pats me on the back because I am wearing my official Hank Baskett jersey, and I smile at my brother because he gave me such a great present.
The game is all Eagles after that, and at the start of the fourth quarter the Eagles are up 24 - 7. Jake and Scott are so happy, and I am beginning to imagine the conversation I am going to have with my father when I get home - how proud he will be of my yelling whenever Eli Manning was trying to call a play.
But then the Giants score seventeen unanswered points in the fourth quarter, and the Philadelphia fans are shocked.
In overtime, Plaxico Burress goes up and over Sheldon Brown in the end zone, and the Giants leave Philadelphia with a win.
It is awful to watch.
Outside of the Linc, Scott says, "Better not come back to the tent. That asshole will be there waiting, for sure."
So we say goodbye to Scott and follow the masses to the subway entrance.