The Eagles have once again toyed with Philadelphian's collective nerves, emotions and hearts -- and just like in years past we have all been left with questions rather than answers.
Why wasn't the pass interference called on fourth and 10?
How could the defense allow so many points?
Is Larry Fitzgerald superhuman?
Is this it for the slew of decade-tenured Eagles?
Instead of trying to answer these questions and more (like what made those shots I was drinking during the game green?) lets try to evaluate the up and down nature of another heart-breaking loss.
The game started amidst excitement as friends and barfly alike came together to toast the Eagles. Just a few minutes into the game it looked like the good Birds (not the Cardinals) were toast.
In a flash of an eye the Eagles were down double digits. Eagles fans felt a growing pit in their stomachs.
There was a ray of light that sparked some optimism after David Akers second field goal put the Eagles within a score.
Then came a punch to the midsection -- a low blow from the mighty hands (and feet) of Fitzgerald. The amazing Larry pulled another trick out of his hat -- Eagles fans took another Maalox from the pillbox.
To add insult to injury the Eagles defense again allowed the Cardinals to climb up the ladder -- 24-6 at the half made the sinking feeling in Philly feel like quicksand.
Halftime was morose as clouds thickened and some snow flurries began to fall in the Tri-state area.
Whatever storm was beginning to brew in Philly was nothing like whatever storm was unleashed in the Eagles locker room in Glendale, Ariz.
The Birds suddenly played like they were alive and tears of pain became tears of joy as the Eagles fought back.
The Birds came out in the second half and grabbed the hopes and dreams of the bleeding green nation back up the mountain.
In a flash of Brent Celek the score was manageable -- just one score again. "In Brent We Trust" could have easily been printed on all the money in this city after that second score.
But just like "Ace Ventura" the laces were in on the extra point attempt as the sure-footed Akers muffed the kick. The Birds and all of the green-clad fans would be chasing that point together for the rest of the afternoon.
The defense went from sleeping lion in the first half to the king of the jungle in the second. They started to treat the ageless Kurt Warner like a rag doll -- throwing the Cards' signal caller to and fro.
Suddenly one play felt like an eternity -- DeSean Jackson juggled the ball -- we worried, we screamed and finally the fans exploded. The Eagles were in the lead!
But alas -- like most things Eagles -- all good things can't last.
The other birds danced down the field while the vaunted Eagles defense laid an egg.
Empty, heart-broken but still with hope the Eagles faithful tried to will Donovan and the green men to a miracle drive.
But, this is Philly -- Lenape for heart breaking losses. There would be no comeback -- no glory -- only pain, loss and questions.
So, we drink to another season of what ifs and never weres.
Vent -- let it all out. The floor is yours.