Want You Back in Philly

Almost 11 o’clock this morning when a request comes in from So-&-So at one of the hotels across from City Hall. Two blocks away, so I give So-&-So a call.

“Right around the corner, So-&-So. Which hotel? Residence or Courtyard?”

“Courtyard.”

“Light just turned green. Be there in less than a minute. Silver SUV.”

“On my way out.”

So I pull right up to the front door and one of the valets starts giving me shit.

“My guy’s coming right out,” I say, and here comes a chunky, middle-aged businessman.

“No,” the valet says. “Not he. See. He holding a ticket. You should be out there.” He’s pointing out in the street, wants me to move, and here comes one of his buddy valets for a show of strength.

“Thanks,” I say. “Just talked to my guy and he said he’s coming right out. I’m not moving. Next time I’ll remember that.”

I see someone coming out the door with a suitcase. He sees the silver SUV and gives me the high-sign.

“There’s my guy.” And I’m out the driver’s door and around the back of the SUV, opening the hatch. My guy’s there at the same time. Don’t remember which of us loaded the suitcase inside, but pretty sure he did.

“You’re not So-&-So,” I say with a smile. “I know who you are. Hop in.”

We’re both inside the car, me behind the wheel, him in the back seat, passenger side.

“Made you as soon as you stepped outside,” I say. “My daughter used to live with a rock-star. I’m familiar with code names.”

He tells me where the name comes from.

“This is just between you and me,” he says.

“Of course.” That’s why I’ve been calling him So-&-So. Our little secret. “Where we goin’?”

“Sugarhouse. Parked my car there last night. No way I’m paying forty-five dollars to park here. Rather pay you guys.”

“I’m with you.”

“How about the weather yesterday,” he says. “Flew in from Tampa. Right into snow.”

“Yeah. Quite a surprise. What are ya here for?” Hoping he’s here to discuss a new contract, but no.

“Doing a signing at Valley Forge Casino.”

“I recorded all three playoff games and watch them over and over.”

If Trey Burton doesn’t know how Eagles fans feel after I get done with him, he’ll never know. I rattle off a few reasons, one after another:

  • “Everyone knows you threw the TD pass to Nicky in the Super Bowl
  • “I saw you through the key block on Blount’s TD against the Falcons
  • “Just this morning I watched you make a key third-down catch against the Vikings.
  • “I see your body-language.
  • “You love playing for the Eagles.”

Trey admits it. Believes the Eagles will be contenders for the next few years. Would love to be part of it.

“You guys were the definition of a team,” I say. “As much as I like Brent Celek, I’m hoping, like Donnie Jones just did, that he decides to go out on top. I’m hoping that frees up enough cap-space to keep you here.”

Mention I started a Nicky Football FanPage five years ago, during Foles rookie season.

“One of his first preseason games, he comes in with two minutes left in the first half, ball on the one yard-line. Figure he’s gonna kneel it out and go in at halftime. But no. Zip-zip-zip. Pass to the left, pass to the right, pass down the middle. Right down the field. Touchdown. This kid can fire the ball. Recorded his games with the Rams. Nick Foles and Case Keenum at quarterback. What’s his name at running back.”

“Todd Gurley.”

“Right. Rodney McLeoud was on that team. One of the best defenses in the league, and Jeff Fisher couldn’t win more than seven games. New coach comes in and they win the division … Do me a favor. Next time you see Nicky, tell him his biggest fan just gave you a ride.”

“I’ll be seeing him in twenty-five minutes. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks. And if my son was with us right now, he’d be telling you the same thing. We want you here in Philly.”

“Tell your son I said hi.”

“Will do … Look … You gonna give me a hint, or what?”

No talks so far from the Eagles. It’s a business. Has to listen to any and all offers.

“I apologize if I heaped too much praise on you. But that’s how I feel.”

This guy’s down to earth. Real. Great character. Great work ethic. Team player. Winner.

We arrive at Sugarhouse. Find his car in the lot. Get out, meet around the back. Get his bag out. Shake hands.

“Thanks for everything. Hope to see you back in Philly.”

 

Written by Barry Bowe
Former sportswriter - first to put Timmy Duncan's name on the sports page.

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