That's never been OK for a small minority of local sports fans.
For them, McNabb, no matter how many NFC titles he wins, will always lack what it takes to get the Eagles a Super Bowl victory.
He's brittle. He's not a real leader. He can't throw accurately. He chokes in the fourth quarter. He may even be a Muslim.
He's not Tom Brady. He's not Peyton Manning. He's not Norm Van Brocklin.
His mother is too pushy. He's afraid to run the ball. He doesn't care.
You hear it on talk radio, often in carefully couched terms. It shows up among anonymous fan bloggers. In angry e-mails. If the Eagles held town meetings, you can be sure the anti-McNabb crazies would shout down his supporters.
Is it any wonder that Rush Limbaugh has demeaned both?
McNabb is not above criticism. Many fans have legitimate questions about him. Just as there are many with real concerns about Obama.
The shame is they can't match the noise or the fervor of the crazies.
A fading Philly game. Does anyone play hose ball any more?
Two weeks ago, I asked readers to recall the ball-related games they played as kids in the streets in and around Philly.
The response was astonishing.
Scores of readers mentioned stick ball, wall ball, step ball, hand ball, wire ball, box ball, sock ball, chink, triangle ball, half ball, Wiffle ball, tire ball, kickball, speed ball, run the bases, puff ball, curb ball, punch ball, long ball, pimple ball, cork ball, roof ball, racket ball, and, my personal favorite, hit the dead guy (those kids lived near a West Philadelphia funeral parlor and their target was a departing hearse).
But far and away the most frequently mentioned game was one that is peculiarly Philadelphian - hose ball.
The game, which was born of economic and practical necessities, appears to have faded away everywhere but in the graying heads of Baby Boomers.
