In Defense of Donovan McNabb: Best Eagles QB Ever

November 12, 2000: I'm sitting in my apartment in Alexandria, Va., having just gotten married the month prior.  Boxes abound, as my new wife and I had bought our first house and are getting ready to move.

Sitting in my red, beat-up, hand-me-down recliner that I inherited from a neighbor when I moved into my first apartment after college, I watch as the Eagles trail Pittsburgh 23-13 with 3:26 to play.

It's Donovan McNabb's first full season as the starting QB, and the man has some work to do.

"Okay, kid.  Show me you what you've got," I said out loud to the TV.

McNabb then proceeds to lead the Birds to a 26-23 OT win—the team's second overtime win in a row—going 12 of 18 passing for 106 yards and a TD in the process.

Since that day, I have believed in Donovan McNabb.

I've never been much of a college football fan, so on draft day in 1999, when all of the pundits were clamoring for RB Ricky Williams, I jumped on that bandwagon. I was disappointed when McNabb was drafted, since I had never heard of the kid. I wasn't part of the vocal throng that WIP sent to New York that day, but in my ignorance, I agreed.

Fast forward to that game against the Steelers, and that day my opinion on the kid from Syracuse changed forever.

Since that time, all McNabb has done is lead our team its greatest period of sustained excellence in franchise history.  You know the stats: He's 6-0 in the first round of the playoffs. Four NFC Championship games and a Super Bowl appearance.  And he's one game away from another appearance in the NFC title game.

Buddy Ryan and Randall Cunningham never won a single playoff game.

So why does McNabb not own this town?

I'm a life-long Philly fan.  I grew up in Upper Darby, Pa., just outside West Philly. You could see the smoke rising in the distance the day of the awful MOVE fiasco in 1985. My family actually lived in West Philly for almost a century, dating back to the mid-1800s. So, I get the blue-collar Philly thing.

What I don't get is why many Philly fans don't appreciate their stars until they're gone.

People are waxing nostalgic on Pat Burrell's departure to Tampa. A couple years ago, people were calling him a bum.

Eric Lindros resurrected a Flyers franchise that had missed the playoffs for five straight years after its Cup runs in the late 90s. Then, he gets hurt playing hard—which is what we're supposed to love in this town—and he's run out of town.

Mike Schmidt was the greatest third baseman to play the game. Ever. And fans rode him harder than Smarty Jones down the stretch.

And now McNabb.

The man played on a broken ankle against the Cardinals in 2002 and threw four touchdown passes.

He led the team to a TD drive in the Super Bowl down the stretch to get the team to within three points of the Patriots when rumors have it he blew chunks in the huddle. Some have called that weakness. I call it perseverance.

He's rehabbed from a devastating knee injury from which many—including fellow Class of '99 QB Daunte Culpepper—never recover.

So why this perception that McNabb is soft? That he's not a "Philly guy?"

McNabb certainly had a bad stretch earlier this season, leading up to his benching. Since that time, he's responded like a professional and has the Eagles on an improbable run.

Whether the chip on his shoulder is deserved or not is up for discussion. What is not debatable, however, is that it is clearly motivating him to succeed now.

If that's what it takes to get Philadelphia its second parade in six months, so be it.

All I know, having seen Kevin Kolb in limited action, is that Eagles fans should appreciate McNabb now while we have him.

Because all golden ages come to an end. It sure would be nice to have a Lombardi Trophy to show for it.