Guest TigerBlog - Go Birds

Warren Croxton is the kind of person you like to have as your friend. 

He's genuine. He has a good, solid, sarcastic wit about him. He works hard at his job in the Office of Athletic Communications.

He's also very loyal. There's his wife and two kids, and yeah, he likes them and all. He really, really, really likes his Philly sports teams though. 

He emailed TigerBlog the other day and said this: "It's long but sums up my feeling the last week. I'd love to get it on TigerBlog."

Say no more, Warren. Oh, and this line? How perfect is this: When I found out I was going to be a father, I dreamed of the idea of taking my kids to a championship parade.

Here you go: 

It’s been a week since the Eagles won the Super Bowl.

That’s a weird sentence for me to type out. It’s even harder to comprehend that they’ve now done it twice.

Back in grade school, my friends and I got together to watch Eagles games at each other houses. It was right around the time Andy Reid was hired.

I remember exactly where I was during each of Reid’s NFC Championship losses. The Rams one, I was sitting on my couch, thinking to myself, "oh they’ll get back and win one."

The Bucs one was at my house, surrounded by friends. This was the one. The Eagles were favored, it was the last game at Veteran Stadium … the Bucs couldn’t win in the cold.

As you can imagine, I’m not a fan of Ronde Barber. The Eagles lost and I started to believe the higher powers did not like Philadelphia (something about the fans being mean).

The next year, while watching at my friend Tyler’s house, the Eagles hosted the Carolina Panthers. The week before, they converted a 4th and 26 against the Green Bay Packers and won in overtime.

Surely, the higher powers from above would grant Philadelphia as the team of destiny, right? RIGHT?

As you can imagine, I’m not a fan of Ricky Manning Jr., He picked off Eagles’ quarterback Donovan McNabb three times, leading to the Panthers' winning 14-3.

In the off-season, the Eagles got Terrell Owens. The 2004 season was almost perfect. I was a junior in high school and my friends’ group was still getting together for games, with 35 people squeezed into my mother’s living room to watch the Eagles take down the Dallas Cowboys on Monday Night Football.

For the playoffs, we gathered at my friend Ryan’s house (more on him later). The Bucs NFC Championship game loss basically put my house on the banned list for playoff games as you can understand.

The Eagles took down the Atlanta Falcons, 27-10, in the NFC Championship. They finally did it. Our school had a snow day the next day to top it off.

SURELY, the higher powers above would shine on the city of Philadelphia, right? RIGHT?

As Rodney Harrison picked off McNabb, securing the Super Bowl for the New England Patriots, I just walked out of Ryan’s house and didn’t even acknowledge anyone. I walked up to the Dunkin Donuts down the street and waited for my mom to pick me up. Radio was off and we drove home in silence. She knew the deal.

That same group of friends and I watched the Phillies win the World Series in 2008 (at my house where there was no bad juju for baseball).

I've stayed in touch with most of that group. In 2017, the Eagles were awesome and were the No. 1 seed in the NFC. I did social media blackout for the Falcons playoff game because I was working a Princeton women’s basketball game. (Princeton beat Cornell, 75-54).

Hours after the city of Philadelphia took one big giant breath as Matt Ryan flung the ball to Julio Jones in the end zone, I caught up and celebrated with my wife.

Tired of watching NFC Championship losses, I decided to go to the NFC Championship game against the Minnesota Vikings a week later. Minnesota had won their previous game on a walk off touchdown by Stefon Diggs.

Surely, they were the team of destiny.

Not so fast. Nick Foles turned into Superman and the Eagles dominated the Vikings, 38-7.

We watched Super Bowl two weeks later at my friend Vinny’s apartment in the city.

I cried like a baby. My favorite part was the first text I got immediately after game was from my 92-year-old grandmother. All it said was congratulations. It hit me in all the feels. Broad Street was fun that night and the parade was all I ever dreamed of.

Fast forward to now … I have two children under three. Yes, they will be Philadelphia sports sickos like their father.

When I found out I was going to be a father, I dreamed of the idea of taking my kids to a championship parade. That’s one of the great things about sports … celebrating the end game.

My wife, who is the best, made it very clear, as Will Shipley scored the Eagles’ eighth touchdown against the Washington Commanders in the NFC Championship game last month, the kids absolutely cannot go on Broad Street immediately after the Super Bowl.

Okay, okay, fine, but they’re going to the parade if they win.

As soon as the Chiefs went three and out to begin the second half, I had a pretty good feeling that the Eagles were going to win.

The Devonta Smith long touchdown catch was the dagger to me.

As the game wrapped up, my friends and I walked towards Broad Street. My wife stayed back with the kids.

As we walked down Market Street, I was arm and arm with my friend Ryan. We were all so excited and I told him … man, we have come a long way since I walked out of your house and didn’t say bye to anyone.

We had a great laugh. We got to about 13th and Market before there was large crowd in the middle of the street. We saw Gritty; we saw fireworks. It was a great time.

The rest of the week is much of a blur. Princeton Women’s Basketball played on Friday but there was no world where I was missing the parade.

It was a beautiful day in Philadelphia on Friday. My wife and I along with our two kids drove over to the stadiums and walked up Broad Street. We gathered with friends and watched the buses go by.

The best part? My one-year-old son being enamored with the floating confetti in the sky.

It was then, it hit me how great sports can be. A moment I had dreamed of, and it lived up to the expectations.