by  Jack Kerwin  |  ydkjack1@gmail.com

Am sold.

Completely.

Oh, not on his arm strength. Not on his accuracy. Not on being some other-worldly talent bequeathed that ever-popular, but often-unfulfilled title of “franchise quarterback.”

For me, now, Carson Wentz is beyond that.

In this, arguably the Eagles’ worst season since his arrival in 2016, Wentz has emerged from the pie-in-the-sky clouds created by his ardent supporters and become a real, viable pro at his profession’s most critical position, capable of carrying his team to greater heights than they, or anyone else, might think possible because he – gasp – has put his faith in him.

Considering the ranks around him for the most part since this past summer, that has been one helluva leap.

Well, hello, maturity and true leadership. You are not part of Wentz’s repertoire.

Frankly, it is the growth he has shown in those aspects that has very comfy with the Birds’ postseason prospects, even as they limp into the new year with a 9-7 record greatly aided by four-game win streak against tissue-soft competition to close the 2019 regular season.

In short, am sold now that Wentz can get them past Seattle on Sunday night and take them on to bigger and better things not just this year, but beyond.

Because he changed. He gave up trying to do everything on his own, and on his own terms. He saw the club crumbling around due to injury and ineffectiveness, and instead of going full-bore into control-freak, me-Thanos mode at a time where it would seem most natural for him to do so, Wentz opened up and let everyone around him in.

To share the load … and the recognition.

In the past, something like the emergence of Miles Sanders as a real threat running the ball would have been met with less carries as Wentz audibled as much as possible to pass plays, warranted or not.

It’s not just Sanders, or Dallas Goedert, though, that Wentz has given his trust. Those guys, as high draft picks the past couple years, were expected to be productive pros. But the likes of Greg Ward and Boston Scott – who?!! – weren’t even in the “relevant” plans, never mind key cogs in coach Doug Pederson’s wildest dreams.

Wentz has given all the greatest gift of all: opportunity.

In return, he has been rewarded with all of them making the most of each.

It has been extraordinary to watch.

For me, Wentz’s evolution hit me not with some 60-yard strike or Houdini act to escape a sack, but, rather, with a simple gesture to a teammate – a teammate perhaps not quite sure of himself in that certain situation.

It was third-and-four at the Eagles’ 37. Just 3:44 remaining in regulation and trailing the Giants by seven at the Linc. Wentz hadn’t played particularly well up to that point; in fact, he had been outperformed by his counterpart, ageless non-wonder Eli Manning, by a pretty wide margin in the first half. He also hadn’t received much juice from those around him.

Didn’t matter. As the team broke the huddle, with the Birds’ season hanging in the balance thanks to the previous week’s loss at lowly Miami putting them at 5-7, Wentz’s intended target J.J. Arcega-Whiteside seemed a tad timid heading to the line of scrimmage … and Wentz, in uber-cool and confident fashion sidled up next to him, gave him a little tap on the helmet, a knowing smile and what appeared to be a wink.

Now, wink or not, that was a wonderful display of confidence in himself and his receiver that Wentz gave Arcega-Whiteside.

Seconds later, they connected on a 22-yard hookup that paved the way to a game-tying touchdown (and PAT) en route to an overtime victory, then wins against Washington, Dallas and, finally, the Giants to get to this point.

In the postseason, with Wentz at the helm.
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Am sold, and excited about the possibilities.

by  Jack Kerwin  |  ydkjack1@gmail.com

Play along for a few minutes ....

We got two NFL quarterbacks. Veteran starters. Taken in the same draft.

Still young, but the narratives to their careers seemingly written in stone already.

One considered a superstar, the type of once-in-a-lifetime franchise quarterback who would lift the spirits of any fan base, no matter how emotionally torn and tattered it may be.

The other considered, well, almost an afterthought. OK mostly, and, perhaps, even good at times, but, really, not the kind of QB who has anyone thinking, “yeah, he is THE guy.”

Funny thing is, when you cut through the hype, skip the BS and just get down to facts, it’s pretty hard to differentiate between the two, say, during the past three seasons.

Or, more to the point, which is which.

To wit:

• Quarterback A has a 57.5 winning percentage as a starter in that time.
• Quarterback B 66.7.
• QB-A completes 63.7 percent of his passes throughout his career, averaging 7.0 yards per attempt and has a passer rating of 92.5.
• QB-B 66.1, 7.4 and 96.0.
• QB-A has been named to one Pro Bowl.
• QB-B two.
• QB-A has never taken a snap in a playoff game.
• QB-B has started in three playoff games, posting a 95.7 passer rating and accounting for seven touchdowns.
• QB-A has directed four comebacks and four game-winning drives.
• QB-B has eight and 14.
• QB-A has run for two touchdowns, averaging 3.8 yards per carry rushing.
• QB-B 18, 5.0.
• QB-A is considered the superstar.
• QB-B is considered … OK.
• QB-A is Carson Wentz.
• QB-B is Dak Prescott.

Welcome to reality, Philly fans, media and the national talking heads far too influenced by their man-crushing comrades who cover the Eagles masking themselves as professionals with unbiased insight.

Look, you wanna argue that Wentz is better, or will be? OK, fine. Not even gonna debate that, even though the above evidence pretty much destroys any case you could make right now – and, sorry, being injury-prone such as Wentz happens to be is not a “chalk one up” for you.

Thing is, it’s never about who is better. It’s about the absolutely absurd levels to which some fans – and, yeah, hell, yeah, that includes a lot of media members anymore – push their favorites as the ultimate, alternating hyperbole with almost hallucinogenic rationale to make their, uh, point.

The Wentz craze is unlike any in my lifetime as far as Eagles players go. So much so that it has no barriers.

Nope. No sticking within city limits, or just within the region. It’s gone national. Hell, it’s gone international.

To where any amount of money paid to him is considered a bargain … and any Prescott may want from Jerry Jones in Dallas even remotely in the same ballpark is labeled an outrage.

​More? Unthinkable.

It’s beyond laughable. Just a complete disconnect with what is and has been. All that discarded for what the hope is for the future.

You know, where Wentz is the ultimate superstar and Prescott is, grudgingly at best, OK.

Here’s the deal at this point: No matter how you slice it, or how much you really want it to be otherwise, neither of these guys has proven to be elite or awful for any extended period. They’re both flawed and they’re both talented.

Their legacies are far from the foregone conclusions being put out there en masse.

Besides, all that matters is that they’re both better than Jared Goff. Way better.

​Cue the comedy laugh track.

by Jack Kerwin  |  ydkjack1@gmail.com

Dear Sean Payton:

Feel your pain, buddy, and am sorry for it.

That missed pass-interference call in Sunday’s NFC title game against the Los Angeles Rams … brutal. Just brutal.

It’s the kind of thing that can haunt you, your New Orleans Saints and the rest of Who Dat Nation for an eternity.

Understandably.

But that’s really not what is bothering you, is it?

When you get past the frustration, the pain, the “goddam, we had ’em” teeth-gritting, the reality is … you and your team blew the game, not the officials.

That’s the thing that is eating away at you.

Sure, it’s easy to point the finger at that one play, a third-and-10 pass attempt from Drew Brees to Tommylee Lewis blown up by Rams defensive back Nickell Robey-Coleman is almost cartoonish fashion, a pass interference so obvious that anyone could have called it – yet no official in this game did.

Game, set, match right there, huh, coach? Cost you the game, huh?

If only damn reality didn’t get in the way of such a good gripe.

For starters, the teams were tied 20-all at that point, with 1:48 remaining in regulation. If memory serves, Saints placekicker Will Lutz then drilled a 37-yard field goal to give the hosts a three-point cushion, right?

To me, and am sure you as well, coach, a championship squad shuts the door on the opposition right there and soon commences plans for its second Super Bowl trip in a decade.

Didn’t happen, though, did it?

Nope. Rams went right down the field and kicked the tying field goal.

No biggie, though. Overtime merely gave you, your MVP candidate and your team another opportunity to shine, and ultimately earn that berth to Atlanta.

What’s that … Brees threw a pick on the first possession in the extra frame? Geez, probably still decimated from what didn't get called minutes before, huh?

Well, certainly the defense picked him up, right? That's what title-winning teams do.

Alas, it didn’t. Gave up just enough yardage on the Rams’ ensuing series to pave the way for Greg Zuerlein’s game-winning 57-yard field goal.

Thing is, New Orleans blew this game long before that final kick. Even long before that laughably pathetic non-call.

Championship outfits don’t blow 13-0 first-quarter leads in the playoffs. At home. After they’ve posted a 13-3 mark in the regular season to earn that advantage.

They don’t get outgained 363 yards to 160 after that initial frame, either. With the opposing team’s most lethal weapon riding the bench most of the time.

They certainly don’t have their head coach go into brain-dead mode near the end of regulation and see him call a stupid pass play on first down at the opposing team’s 13-yard line with less than two minutes on the clock when the obvious call there is a run to force the other team to burn a timeout after making a tackle.

The pass, of course, was incomplete … and pretty much encapsulated the entire afternoon for the Saints.

Everything was right there for the taking, and they tossed it away.

Even after a horrible missed call.

When you get past all the bitching, the moaning and the rationalizing, that is what the real issue is.

Right, coach?

A word to the wise: Just deal with it. The denial only delays the healing.

Signed, Your Conscience
 

by Jack Kerwin  |  ydkjack1@gmail.com

It’s fickle. It’s phony. It’s totally Philly.

This farewell to Nick Foles silliness with all the dripping-with-sincerity well-wishers making sure that he, the only quarterback in franchise history to lead the Eagles to a Super Bowl victory, knows that he will forever be … a legend in town.

Puh-leeze.

The majority of people sharing such sentiments were the same ones who either outwardly stated how things would have been even better with Carson Wentz at the helm or inwardly wished Wentz was at the helm because he – not Foles – was their guy.

The memory of what Foles accomplished not only last season, but this one that was careening off the rails for the Eagles until he took over for an injured Wentz yet again, started to fade immeasurably the moment that spot-on pass went right through Alshon Jeffery’s hands and into New Orleans defensive back Marcus Lattimore’s lap to seal an NFC divisional-round clinching victory for the Saints.

You could hear the collective sigh of mindless rationale immediately emanating from Midnight Green Nation, headed by, laughably, the media, across the country – or at least read about it in ridiculously stated code.

The gist of it all: “Well, now we can get back on the path we wanted. With our ‘franchise quarterback’ at the helm.”

Yes, you can … and, at this point, you – and, more importantly, the Eagles – should.

This is the reality: The Eagles have believed in Wentz from Day One. They bent over backward to move up in the 2016 NFL Draft to get him with the No. 2 pick. They traded Sam Bradford the moment it became possible to do so in order to make Wentz the starter. They gave Wentz carte blanche to do whatever he decided was best to do from his first snap.

With that, he has performed well. As well as credited as performing? That’s debatable. Highly debatable. We could argue stats all you want, but they can be skewed. Heck, Wentz was a shell of his 2017 self this past fall, yet his quarterback rating was better in 2018 than it was in his “record-setting” one.

Foles, conversely, has never, ever gained the trust of the Birds’ braintrust. Didn’t matter how well he performed, or what ungodly numbers – or wins – he put up. Or the franchise records he set. When they cast a shadow over anything Wentz did, the Eagles ignored it, or, worse, downplayed it. They, like most fans and media, just chalked it up to “in the moment” momentum, or luck, or magic.

Insulting. Totally. With Eagles head coach Doug Pederson further piling on true lack of appreciation just two days after this title-defense season ended, proclaiming, essentially, he now knows how to handle Wentz better – because, geez, if we can accomplish this, that and the other with a guy like Foles, the mind boggles at what we’ll be able to do with Wentz running the show.

Yeah, coach, get back to me when your boy makes it to the playoffs, and wins a game. Doesn’t even have to win the whole shebang. Just one postseason game.

But, we digress …

Keeping it real, Foles didn’t exactly play stellar in either of the playoff games he started this month. Oh, he performed exceptional right at the outset against Chicago and New Orleans. Then Pederson pulled in the reins, got conservative and reverted to his fetal position of calling on Darren Sproles’ number all too often. Both games.

Doesn’t matter. Even with that, Foles had opportunity to shine, and he didn’t.

Oh, he was directing the Eagles on another thrilling, game-winning drive before Jeffery’s whiff. The masses, incredulously, have somehow skirted over that in their haste to make sure it’s time to move back to Wentz. But, still, Foles was – overall – nothing special against the Bears and Saints.

His efforts paled in comparison to those he gave in last season’s championship run, when he had to throw his way out of Pederson’s “oh, he’s not Carson” shackles to bring Philly its first NFL title since 1960.

The greatness Foles displayed then … that won’t be remembered. It certainly won’t be legendary. Because the Eagles’ organization and the majority of the fan base made that so.

Everything Foles did came with an asterisk attached. Like he didn’t earn it. That he stumbled into it. That everyone else stepped up their game to carry him.

Pretty soon we won’t be hearing Foles’ name linked to Wentz, but, rather, Trent Dilfer.

With those same well-wishing phonies nodding in unknowing unison.

by Jack Kerwin  |  ydkjack1@gmail.com

Don’t mind the high praise for the kid.

Don’t mind declarations of impending NFL greatness for him. Or the favorable comparisons to others, past and present.

Saquon Barkley is a special talent, an elite athlete and, the trigger that pushes all buttons, a tireless workout warrior hellbent on proving doubts, including his own, wrong.

He deserves the attention, the accolades and the faith from his followers.

It’s just you won’t catch me genuflecting at the “best player in the 2018 draft and surefire Hall of Famer” altar anytime soon.

Sorry, just have seen the can’t-miss, chiseled out of granite/faster than a speeding bullet, well, miss before. Quite a lot, actually.

Plus, Barkley – or at least expectation of what he will be – comes with a legit red flag for me, and we’re talking performance between the lines wise, not off-the-field silliness stuff.

What, pray tell, could that possibly be?

Pretty simple. He’s been rubber-stamped as the ultimate, every-down back that any professional team would covet … without showing he is capable of being that.

Oh, he can run, run with power, with speed, with shiftiness. He can catch. He can block. He has shown all that.

In spurts, though. Just spurts.

This is not a wear-down-the-defense kinda guy here, people. Yeah, he looked fantastic in shorts and tank top, strutting that 6-foot, 233-pound frame around the combine. Hell, he looked great in a Penn State uniform, too.

But he never was a start-to-finish player for the Nittany Lions.

He’s a timebomb with no timer – bound to go off for a play, maybe two, in a game and that’s it. There is no consistent production history within the context of most games he has played since departing Whitehall High in the Lehigh Valley.

Now, frankly, that may be enough to satisfy, if not thrill, the New York Giants, their fan base and Barkley worshippers the globe over.

Yo, no doubt home-run hitters are great to have and Barkley certainly is one. It’s just when it comes to projecting a legit future for him, most would be wise to think of him in the Albert Pujols as an Angel mold rather than in the Pujols as a Cardinal vein.

In 38 games in college, including 36 as a starter, Barkley posted 15 games of 100 yards rushing or better. Umm, that’s not a lot for a feature back at that level, regardless of the type of offense.

But it goes beyond that. It even goes beyond him being the second-best player in Penn State’s backfield the last two seasons.

In his final game for the Lions, Barkley went for 137 yards on 18 carries against Washington. Great game, right? Not really. The kid ripped off one great run, a 92-yard touchdown jaunt, and went 17-for-45 the rest of the way.

Against Michigan this past fall, in the “game that sealed the Heisman” that he never won, Barkley busted loose for a 69-yard score on his first carry, then could only muster 39 more yards on his next 14.

Against Ohio State, a 36-yard TD run. The rest: 20 carries for 8 yards.

Against Michigan State, a 36-yard run. The rest: 13 carries, 27 yards.

Against Northwestern, a 53-yard TD run. The rest: 15 for 22.

Against Indiana, he went 20-for-56.

Against Rutgers, 14-for-35.

Yeah, he’s dangerous. He will rip off a long one, either by taking a handoff, hauling in a pass, or, if the Giants dare to allow, by returning a kick.

But he’s not a workhorse. Not in terms of being consistently productive at least.

He will disappear. For long periods of time. In fact, if he doesn’t rip off a long one in a game, his productivity in that game, as history shows, will be nil or not far removed from it.

That is the nature of his game.

So praise him all you want. It’s just you might want to be aware of what, or who, you’re actually praising.
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