Diggs’ catch-and-run game-winner brings Vikings to Philly

Good God almighty! Can you Diggs it ? “That did not just happen!” I exclaimed, leaping from the couch. Alright, I embellished the leaping from the couch part, but the Stefon Diggs walkoff 61-yard catch-and-run-into-Vikings-folklore that produced a win over the Saints (of all names) happened because “God put me there” (Diggs after the game). If true, God also put Saints rookie Marcus Williams into the story for his armless “air tackle” and made him a leading candidate for a Snickers Wanna Get Away commercial. Destiny and fate are metaphysical/religious terms; the more you read the less you understand. That’s why a new millenium school of American philosophy developed, known in Ivy League circles as the Stuff Happens period of enlightenment.

Compartmentalizing crazy - NFL athletes are of world-class caliber. Their talents, on display during the playoffs, are unharnessed and out of control. They are thoroughbreds, and they are nuts. You see great plays followed by boneheaded behavior. That’s why you see fewer NFL head coaches under headphones than in college. The pro guys know stuff is going to happen - like Julio Jones slipping and falling on an end zone pattern for a potential game-winning catch versus the Eagles, and the Steelers defense giving up 45 points in a 45-42 loss to the Jaguars.  Destiny collides with fate this Sunday at Lincoln Financial Field as the dachshund dogs of South Philly - minus 3 points - rumble with the Norwegian Elkhounds of the North Country. And the Brady and Belichick Patriots are the least insane of all teams left on the board. Clear your calendar for Sunday, Jan. 21. It’ll be two games for the price of one; definitely better than Super Bowl Sunday.   

Fortunate Fournette - Leonard Fournette is an absolute beast of a running back for the Jacksonville Jaguars . The fourth-round pick out of LSU scored three touchdowns in the 45-42 win over the Steelers. But in the first half he limped to the locker room with an ankle injury and his return was listed as questionable. “Questionable” pinged on smartphones around the U.S.  Fournette came back to play in the second half, scoring a touchdown. After the game, he told a sideline reporter: “My mother came to the locker room at halftime and we read some scripture together. There was no way I wasn’t playing in the second half.” Reporters are trained that when athletes go down the God road, don’t go with them. Just ask the next logical “non-God” question. “So what passage did you read?” I would ask, figuring the next time I roll my ankle, I’m all over it.   

Snippets - Doug Harvey, a Hall of Fame umpire, died Jan. 13 at age 87 . Players referred to Harvey as God; his silver hair and in-charge manner gave him that “God, the father” look. As reported in the New York Times: “One Christmas, Joy Harvey gave her husband a T-shirt that read: ‘We’ll get along just fine as soon as you realize I’m God.’” Sportscaster Keith Jackson, The Voice of College Football, passed away Jan. 12 at age 89. Jackson’s signature phrase was, “Whoa, Nellie,” and he referred to enormous linemen as The Big Uglies in the Trenches. As a member of the Lineman for Life Club, I’m particularly fond of that expression. You know what high school teams are No. 1? The ones that walk off with a state championship at the end of the season. The regular-season rankings are just talk for entertainment purposes only. Interviews for the position of Cape head football coach should be the last week in January. I have my ear to the track in a town where the train don’t run (train talk), but I’m hearing like a dozen applicants and my suggestion to throw half of them out is falling on deaf ears. But I know my voice is heard. Cape Athletic Director Bob Cilento went into the athletic closet before Friday’s Smyrna girls’ game and cued up the national anthem. But the door locked behind him, and pounding on a padded door produced no noise; it was a good thing he had his cellphone and Mike Dmiterchik had the key. Bob came out of the closet, his release caught on camera. I think I may write a folk song about it. “Let me tell you a story about a man name Bobby...” Go on now, git!