Dear Philadelphia Eagles Fans:
If you want me to leave so bad, I’ll leave. There are about 31 better cities than Philadelphia to play football in. Just say the word, and I’m gone—like your playoff hopes for the next five seasons.
From the moment I was drafted, when all of you crybabies f****n’ BOOED me, you guys have been all over my case.
You're so quick to forget how absolutely terrible your team was before I arrived. Remember, I was the number-two draft pick, which means your beloved Eagles were the second-worst team in the league that season.
All I have done is come in and work my ass off. I’ve played through injuries, and made myself into a "complete" quarterback. Oh, yes...I remember the whole borderline racist deal about how all I could do was run. I mean, yeah, forget the fact that I have an absolute cannon for an arm—I was so one-dimensional, right?
I led your Eagles to all kinds of playoff appearances and conference championship games with one of the worst backfields and wide receiving corps in the league. Then, finally, you get me a real receiver, and we make the Super Bowl. Then, after forcing him out of town, you go right back to giving me no targets again.
I don’t get it. What’s your problem with me? Your team was a total joke before I arrived. We turned the Eagles into a serious threat for a number of years. Injuries have been an issue the past few seasons—I know this. Hey, I would play through ‘em if the doctors would let me—you know that.
I have been a top NFL QB ever since I first put on an Eagles uniform. And I have done this without any other superstars on offense.
Despite everything I have given you, I have been ridiculed nonstop over my entire career. Your city has some serious issues with how to treat people. The nickname "City of Brotherly Love," could not be less representable of this collection of unappreciative a**holes.
As much as I would die to win a Super Bowl, I’ll tell you what: I’m almost half-glad we lost to the Patriots. This city doesn’t deserve a champion.
Thanks for nothing,