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October 20, 2004

Hey, Subway Guy

Fellow Travelers Well Met on the UWS-Linc Commute

Sunday morning came early. REAL early.

I knew ahead of time that this would be an ambitious mission.
Commuting to South Philadelphia for the 1 pm Eagles-Panthers
game following a, ahem, rather late night was going to be tough.
But when the Gods favor us with Greg Dulli concerts and Eagles
tickets in the same weekend, it is unwise to cross them. Plus, I'm
young and should be able to handle a little spot of sleep
deprivation.

And so there I was, on the downtown platform of the 1-9 train at
79th Street, with my Eagles-lubbin' roommate, decked out in our
football costumes at 7:35 am on a Sunday morning. Weren't we
then surprised that standing just ten feet away from us on the
platform was another dude decked out in Eagles gear. Eyebrows
arched all around.

"You headed to the game?"

"Yeah. You guys?"

"Yeah."

I won't pretend we all had a ton to say to each other. It was still
7:35 in the morning. But we managed to make amicable chit-chat
about the Birds' prospects (after cursory debate, all agreed that
they would be beating the snot out of the Panthers later that
afternoon) and other NFL news and notes, at which point this
gentlemen distinguished himself with some good top-level
familiarity with the previous weekend's statistical highlights (mostly
having to do with Tim Rattay, which is impressive unto itself). It
goes without saying that none of us was actually that shocked to
see that there was someone else from our specific neighborhood
in the city WITH TWO NFL TEAMS OF ITS OWN OVER 100 MILES
AWAY that was willing to travel to Philly for the Eagles. Made
perfect sense.

This fellow was planning to catch the 8:05 Amtrak (we were
shooting for the 8:14 New Jersey Transit) and as the 1-9 train
continued to not show up, he panicked a bit and bailed on the
subway at about 7:52 in favor of a cab. We understood -- can't
miss that train or your whole day is blown.

The mathematics of Eagles travel planning is largely an exercise in
reverse engineering. That is, one begins at the kick-off time and
works one's way backwards event by event and segment by
segment in order to generate a travel schedule with appropriate
goals and milestones. For example, our subway friend noted the
1:00 pm kick-off time and decided that it was essential that he
rednez-vous with his buddies at their tailgate by 10:00 am. To
meet this crucial deadline, he would need to be at least as far as
Philadelphia-30th Street Station by 9:35 am, since the Broad
Street line would take at least 20 minutes at that hour on a
Sunday. To get to Philadelphia-30th Street Station by 9:35 am,
he would need to be on a train by roughly 8:00 am (assuming
Amtrak service -- for us po' folks, you would substitute New Jersey
Transit here and add another hour to your journey). To get on
that 8:00 am train (actual departure time, 8:05 am, but close
enough), he needed to be on a 1-9 downtown train at 79th
Street no later than 7:45 am. To be on the subway by 7:45 am,
he would need to arrive at the subway station by about 7:38 am,
which implied that he should be out the door of his apartment by
7:33 am. Allowing twelve minutes of personal processing from the
moment of getting out of bed to walking out the front door, he
needed to have his ass out of bed by 7:21 am at the latest, which
(depending on his relationship with the snooze button and how
much rest he had gotten the night before) meant that he should
have set his alarm for about 7:11 am.

I know it seems like a bit much, but what can I say: me likey
Eagles!

In any case, our commute down to the game worked quite
elegantly and we were treated to a strong effort from the Birds.
My talking point for the day (where "talking point" = my bit of
nonsense that I use to break the ice in conversations with Birds
fans I haven't met yet; see also, "what I run my mouth about for
most of the day") was that this game wasn't about revenge, it
was about punishment.

And punish they did! My quick-hit game highlights:

Why Do I Even Bother With Seats: the corner platform areas
on the ground-level concourse are far superior to the 200-level
seats for game viewing. In all fairness, I'm pretty tall and I could
see how it could get a bit dicey when the sections in front of the
platforms stood up en masse, but still. You're in the middle of the
action, you have easy access to concessions, bathrooms, and
merchandise, and you don't have to bother 12 people if you need
to get up for a second. Very clever, Linc designers.

Where Were The Balloons?: the Septa folks cheaped out on the
green and white balloons at the Pattison Ave. subway stop this
week. BOOOOO! What, this game wasn't big enough? Would it
kill you to put the balloons up every week? This isn't baseball or
basketball -- all of these games are big games! (And yes, I'm
aware that the NFL's marketing has worked on me like a charm.)

That About Wraps It Up For Jake Delhomme: I have no ill will
for the guy, but I won't be starting him in a fantasy league any
time soon. He was playing tough for a guy whose top playmaker
and two best running backs had both suffered serious injuries. But
when Kearse popped him from the side...he really wasn't the same
after that. It looked pretty bad, and all credit to him for
continuing, but that hit looked like it deleted 1.3% of his personal
hard drive space. That interception he chucked up to Dhani Jones
(the one preceded by me jumping up and down like a lunatic
shouting "There's a linebacker on Muhammad! Somebody get on
that!") was pretty sad. I hope he's okay.

The Answer is FORWARD: now that the so-called secrets of the
Denver "insert 1,000-yard back here" rushing game have been
revealed, I must admit that I'm very jealous. From a fan's
perspective, the ethos of "make one cut and then get upfield" is
VERY attractive. Brian Westbrook, we're looking in your direction.
Forward, young man, forward. Get into the secondary and make
something happen.

Secrets of the Mercedes Benz Club Level: first off, it's really
nice. Of course. But did you know that you can buy alcohol there
through the end of the game? I guess we have to have the
no-beer-after-half-time rule for the proles, but the high rollers can
be trusted not to drink and drive. Uh huh.

Certainly a day well spent. As we queued for the Amtrak back to
New York at 30th Street, basking in the glow of the Birds' 30-8
victory ("This was not about revenge, it was about punishment."),
we spotted a familiar face.

"Hey, subway guy!"

A startled subway guy turned to face us, and ambled our way for a
few minutes of amicable we-sure-kicked-their-asses chitchat. All
agreed that this was a strong effort from the Eagles, and well
worth the commute. I somehow doubt that this will be the last
time we run into this character.

What can I say: we likey Eagles.

Posted by thatkid at October 20, 2004 12:47 PM under Sports

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