In that same section to my left, maybe around fifteen rows down from me, was this rowdy crew of Eagles fans, at least two of whom were clad in these sweet, late ‘80s jerseys that looked like they had been pulled off the wall of Gerry Cosby’s.

Anyway, these Eagles fans were getting pretty heavily heckled, and it very soon escalated into this fat, stubbly, K-Fed-looking piece of Philly trash in a green Cunningham jersey standing up, flipping aggressive birds, and repeatedly (and violently) grabbing his package.

Cunningham’s amigo was this short, slight dude, incongruously dressed in a white Reggie White jersey. The little dude wasn’t being nearly the dick that his Randall-clad buddy was, but Giant fans couldn’t resist the temptation:

“YOU’RE-A-MID-GET!” rang the chant, in the quarto-syllabic rhythm of the “Let’s go Yankees” chant. It was pretty funny, though not nearly as funny as when Jose Valentin was serenaded with “WHAT-A-MOU-STACHE!” at Shea Stadium.

Anyway, the beef continued with the Eagles fans, and at a certain point, Cunningham had clutched his Balzac enough times so that the yellow-clad, Meadowlands security guys saw fit to eject his ass. The crowd loved it, and a pretty coherent rendition of “Na-na-na-na, Na-na-na-na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye” was bellowed in his direction, accompanied by a rolling sea of full-armed waves goodbye.

I didn’t notice it at the time, but my brother pointed out to me that Cunningham tried to stick his arm out to the crowd and do the “bring it on!” gesture, only to have it violently yanked back by one of the security guards. Pretty funny. But with the departure of the scrambler, the beef was quickly forgotten about and the crowd could concern itself with the infuriating events on the field.

But a strange thing happened before the second half kickoff. Randall made his way back into the stands, and as he walked up the stairs to his seat, he waved at his former tormentors in a very cordial way.

What had happened? Sitting a section over, I didn’t really get the inside scoop, but the rumor was that he was taken down into the bowels of the Meadowlands, left to sober up and contemplate his crime against civil stadium society. At the half, he was paroled, and he returned to the stands as a seemingly changed man, one committed to peaceful coexistence with the Giants fans.

But it didn’t last long. The rate of recidivism for Eagles fans reverting back to being assholes is high, much higher than the rate for, say, child molesters. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before #12 was at it again, and it couldn’t have been more than five minutes after that that security nabbed his ass again. The dude got ejected twice from the Meadowlands in the same game – it’s gotta be a record. If that isn’t a perfect encapsulation of what Philly Phans are all about, I don’t know what is.