There are three indisputably great two-word phrases in the Philadelphia lexicon: Go Birds, Dallas Sucks and Dallas Week. With the Eagles riding high off a comeback win last night, they've been gifted 10 days' rest by the football scheduling gods ahead of their Sunday Night Football matchup with the Cowboys next week.
Dallas Week is my favorite time of the year, more so than even the first day of March Madness or the NFL and NBA drafts or Halloween. I spend a week channeling the anger of generations' worth of middle-class rage and put all focus into hating this entity that represents all the worst things in this world. The Cowboys are the Joker to my Batman. The Voldemort to my Harry Potter. We need the life force of one another to survive.
The best part of the first Dallas Week this year? It's more than just a single seven-day week. From the moment Brandon Graham had a strip sack on Daniel Jones at the end of the fourth quarter against the Giants, the clock on Dallas Week started ticking.
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Falling backwards into Dallas Week following a loss is the worst thing possible. Eagles fans want to pump their chest and tattoo-covered biceps and rile up Cowboys Twitter. They need to call their grandfathers and hear them vent about Roger Staubach. They need to ask their uncle about the 1987 NFL strike. They need to watch highlights of the 44-6 game on YouTube. They need to lock themselves in a room and listen to nothing but "And We Danced" by the Hooters on repeat for 200 hours.
Christmas came early this year: Dallas Week is 10 days long. Grab a pumpkin spice coffee, pull your knockoff anti-Dallas t-shirt you bought outside the Vet in 2000 out of the back of your closet and get ready for one of the few things in the world that can truly make you feel alive.