I'm happy to oblige. I don't own a midnight-green jersey, curse at the radio, or drink beer. But before you label me a second-tier Eagles fan at best, consider that I do have a recliner, a remote, and a penchant for punishment.

Of course, I'd much rather watch and write about baseball, where to the best of my knowledge there are no players named Macho. I will, however, tune into the Eagles after baseball season or whenever one of the footballers' commercial-bloated contests coincides with a meaningless Phillies game, which means that over the years I've witnessed more Eagles games than Merrill Reese.

There was a time when I enjoyed the Eagles so much that I actually attended some of their games. But that was back before tailgating, beer pong and, if I remember correctly, Ecstasy.

I'd ride the El to 34th Street, shower, disarm, buy a couple of soft pretzels, and find a way to sneak into Franklin Field. Normally, that required either stealth, a bribe, or my posing as Tim Rossovich's parole officer.

Oh, the fun we had!

We'd sit on backless wooden benches in the rain, wind and snow, watching players cavort through the mud as, snowballs in hand, we awaited the arrival of Santa Claus and dined on an array of options that ranged from watered-down Cokes to tasteless hot dogs.

The latter had been boiled in a putrid gray liquid that resembled the substance you nowadays often see oozing down the front of some midnight-green jerseys during 4 p.m. games at the Linc.

Once in a while, if the fat guy in front of you didn't stand up or if you weren't too busy warming yourself by a fire fed with Franklin Field bench slats, you'd actually get to see a play or two.

If you missed too much of the action, there was always the next day's Evening Bulletin, whose "machine-gun photos," complete with high-tech dotted lines to replicate the ball's trajectory, left you utterly confused.

"Why did Jurgensen throw a pass to Frank Dolson in the press box?" my father frequently asked.

I was sick when the Eagles moved to the Vet, although I'm still convinced the hot dogs were more to blame than nostalgia.

I recall the day near the end of the Joe Kuharich era - old-timers may know it as "The Trail of Tears" - when disgruntled fans hired an airplane to carry a "Joe Must Go" banner through Center City. That plane was ticketed, booted, and now rests in a Parking Authority lot at 57th and Kingsessing.

The last Eagles game I went to as a fan was in 1982, which is about the same time the Spectrum's farewell events began. I don't remember much of what happened, but I do recall it was a memorable day, perhaps because Ron Jaworski answered a postgame question in less than 10 minutes.

I bring this all up because, quite frankly, I found the Eagles' bye week to be disconcerting, occurring as it did on the same Sunday as a meaningless Phillies game.

I had a couple of hours to kill, and not wanting to encounter any Eagles fans, I went to a bookstore.

There I found many books on the Eagles, most of which appear to have been written to appeal to those the age of the prepubescent girls who participated in the Eagles' 2009 Junior Cheerleading Clinic Presented by Teva Pharmaceuticals earlier this week.

Now there's a shameless event. Moronic parents teaching their innocent young daughters that it's perfectly acceptable to become scantily clad sex objects.

Anyway, there you have it. One Eagles-flavored Morning Bytes. I only ask that those who don't submit this directly to the Pulitzer committee send their laudatory e-mails to Cohen.

A banner day in Georgia. Speaking of ridiculous events involving cheerleaders, those at Lakeview-Fort Oglethorpe High School in Georgia somehow felt that their football team could not possibly compete unless they held up banners containing religious themes and Bible verses.

Authorities correctly put a stop to the practice. But now an area 50 yards from the field has been designated as a spot where such signs can be displayed.

Hey, folks, it's high school. They're teenagers. They'll survive just fine for a few hours on a Friday night without any biblical banners. That's what Sundays are for - that and Eagles games.

Later this month, several NASCAR drivers will be appearing on Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

That one's off the board in Vegas.

St. Timothy. Florida football coach Urban Meyer said he wasn't yet sure whether quarterback Tim Tebow will be healthy enough to play Saturday against LSU.

Tebow, you will recall, broke his halo and damaged a wing in the Gators' victory over Kentucky.