Strip away the game's benevolence - the rules, man - and fade the stadium glow into simple moonlight, and what's the difference for a LeSean McCoy? He can feel their eyes tracking him. He can hear them panting. They are trying to corner him. Taking angles. Closing exits.
McCoy laughed. A polite laugh. An "I can't believe you expect me to respond to that weird of a question" sort of laugh.
Do you? Do you ever dream about that? I asked.
"Nah, not me," he shrugged, brushing aside the question by taking issue with its premise.
"I'm not great yet," he says.
Not yet. But debatable.
Definitely soon then. Soon like this weekend soon.
Entering tomorrow's game against the Cowboys, McCoy already has eight touchdowns (six on the ground) and 569 yards rushing, placing him in sight of Wilbert Montgomery's single-season franchise record of 1,512. He's averaging 5.4 yards per carry. That's half a first down every run.
"McCoy," says Dick Vermeil, Montgomery's old coach, "has a chance to move into a very special category if he keeps going like this."
Just when did this happen? And where in the world is Brian Collins Westbrook? Thirty-six? Remember him? Eight seasons in green. Better all-around back than - please say the following in hushed tones - Montgomery. Westbrook averaged 4.6 yards per carry for his Eagles career. He also caught 426 passes in his Eagles career, 90 in one season. Between rushing and receiving, he nearly amassed 10,000 Birds yards. And nobody was better at picking up a blitz than the 5-8 Westbrook.
So strange how he left for that 1 year in San Francisco with kisses and hugs but no hue and cry. When Brian Dawkins left for Denver, signs were scrawled and petitions signed. There was Occupy NovaCare. A guy lost his job at Lincoln Financial Field over Facebooking outrage. When Donovan McNabb left for Washington, the noise rivaled a fallen regime.
