In the Twin Cities, they are on all-Favre, all-the-time duty. As rumors continue to swirl, there is the belief that if something is going to be announced, it won't be this week -- because Vikings coach Brad Childress and Eagles coach Andy Reid have headed to Alaska for a week-long fishing trip.

The two have been close forever, since before Childress was Reid's offensive coordinator with the Eagles. They've been close, their families have been close, they have gotten together in the off-season before. But it's funny. Say you're an accountant. Do you really, really want to spend a week of vacation with another accountant? But these guys do it.

It is such a different world, being a professional football coach. The hours, the pressures -- when you talk to them about it, they all say the same thing. That is, that nobody else really understands what they go through except for people who have gone through it. So they find comfort in each others' miseries, or something.

These two guys are good enough friends that they have other things to talk about than football, like their families. Still, it is hard to believe that football -- old stories, funny stories and current predicaments -- won't be a part of the conversational menu. So they travel four or five time zones away to have the same conversations that they have every week during the season on the telephone.

The point being, NFL coaches never seem to get away sometimes, even when they travel to Alaska.

And they would tell you that you have to be a football coach to understand.

There's a story on Yahoo! about Terrell Owens and his exit from the Cowboys. It quotes Stephen Jones, son of owner Jerry and the guy who runs a lot of what goes on in Dallas these days. It seems to me, Jones hits it just right -- because it sounds so much like the reality the Eagles faced back when T.O. was here.

The operating shorthand is that Owens is a pain in the ass, such an organizational irritant that it isn't possible for a team to survive his nonsense over the long term. There is truth to that, no doubt. There is absolutely truth to that. But when you really look back on it, the issue for the organization is different, deeper, more nuanced. In Dallas, as in Philadelphia, the real issue was the way that Owens divided the locker room and prevented the quarterback from leading. The problem was not that he tore down the organization. Instead, it was that so many of the players were attracted to him.

Listen to Stephen Jones:

“It’s hard to take over leadership when you’ve got a strong personality like Terrell,” Jones said. “If you look back at our old teams [from the 1990s], a lot of people would say maybe Michael [Irvin] was the leader. Then you might say, ‘He was a receiver. What about Troy [Aikman]? He was the quarterback. Wasn’t he the leader?’ And the answer is, yeah, Troy was a leader. But if Michael wasn’t supportive of him, Troy would’ve had problems.

“A lot of our players thought the world of Terrell – they still do. They loved the way he prepared and how hard he played, and everybody respected his skills and what he’d done in the league. And with him here, I think he was always going to carry that kind of weight.”

It is exactly what happened here. The whining about his contract was the pain-in-the-ass part, a splendid sideshow. But in the end, the Donovan McNabb part of it was what drove everything. It was the potential division of the locker room. It was the impediment that placed in the quarterback's way. And while he is declining now, and the Cowboys do have other receivers -- led by Roy Williams -- that wedge in the locker room is why Owens had to leave Dallas and go to Buffalo, just as he had to leave Philadelphia.

The hits keep coming. Now, pretty much out of nowhwere, a lingering groin problem that nobody mentioned for months has landed Phillies leftfielder Raul Ibanez on the disabled list.

From here, the glass is starting to look a little less half-full.

The starting pitching has begun to revert, unable to give the Phillies the requisite innings. The bullpen, in mid-June, is a smoldering husk, overused by necessity. Brett Myers, the No. 2 starter, is likely gone for the year. The closer, Brad Lidge, is still on the disabled list. The record at home is as abominable as it is inexplicable. And Ibanez, everybody's favorite story of the 2009 season, is on the shelf with the kind of injury that only kind of gets better when it decides to get better. An MRI is likely coming -- and say a prayer that he hasn't torn it.

Murphy is all over the details. I'm just here to convey this growing feeling of unease. I know, I know, the Phils still have their lead in the National League East over the Mets and the rest -- and that is why the glass is still viewed from here as half-full, not half-empty.

But if you are the Mets, watching this all from a distance, what do you think? The Mets have been clobbered by injuries this season, absolutely slaughtered. They also have a bit of, uh, history to overcome if they are ever to be considered serious challengers. But they're hanging around. As the Phillies begin to drop here, they're hanging around. It's a long year and stuff happens and enduring the stuff is what baseball is all about -- all of that is true. And the Phillies have shown a significant ability to endure the last few years. It is just that the challenges are growing here while the biggest challenge -- starting pitching, underlined -- remains unresolved.

And so, on the day Raul Ibanez goes to the disabled list, you wonder what's next. That is what this is starting to feel like. That is what the dominant question is starting to become. What's next?

Haven't had a chance to write much about the big wet kiss that the Eagles gave Donovan McNabb last week. We all know the basics: that the Eagles threw about $5 million at their quarterback, in the year after he was benched and felt disrespected by the club, in an attempt to keep everybody happy and on the same page as they make another run at that elusive Super Bowl. And that's all fine.

Much has been made about how both remaining years of the contract were adjusted. The key provisions for 2010 are these: that $3.5 million of the money that season is guaranteed (none was guaranteed in the previous deal), and that there is a $6.2 million roster bonus that kicks in if McNabb is indeed on the roster on May 5, 2010.

Odd date, that May 5th. My first thought was that it was after the draft -- but, strangely, a few weeks after the draft. Now comes word that the draft might be moved to the first weekend in May next year, which means it will be only a couple of days after the draft. Interesting.

It seems to me that the draft will be the decision point for the club. At that time, McNabb either will be traded or have his deal extended.

People have said that this new contract gives McNabb two years to win the Super Bowl or be gone. I really see it as one year. I cannot imagine the Eagles would allow McNabb to play into the last year of his deal. Elite quarterbacks just don't do that, especially in a media market such as this one. Think about the furor that arose this off-season, the constant discussion and potential distraction, when McNabb had 2 years left on his deal. Can you imagine him playing a season with the contract set to expire at the end? I can't.

Think of how McNabb has dealt with this kind of thing. He was really insulted last season by the benching (and played better after it). But his demeanor has been off ever since then. He has become very hard to read, at least from this distance. Maybe he and the club are fine and the rest of this is just public relations, but I don't know. Something seemed to change with that benching -- and if McNabb were allowed to play into the last year of his deal, I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine about how it would affect him.

I think we're all going to be back in the same spot next spring. I really think the Eagles, in buying McNabb's happiness, bought only 1 year of peace.

Last week, Andy Reid and Joe Banner walked a few Daily News reporters through the process they used in obtaining left tackle Jason Peters from Buffalo. They talked about seeing reports of Peters being disgruntled, checking to make sure their evaluation of Peters as a player was as good as they thought it was, and then making a phone call to the Bills. The way Banner told it, the Bills quickly rejected the idea of trading Peters. But Banner then asked if he could receive a phone call from the Bills if they changed their mind. The Bills agreed, saying that the Eagles were the first to express interest -- and, months later, they did call.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying that you have to hope the Eagles have already called the Denver Broncos and asked about wide receiver Brandon Marshall.

You know, 6-foot-4 Brandon Marshall.

You know, 230-pound Brandon Marshall.

You know, big red-zone target/Pro Bowl player Brandon Marshall.

His is the perfect stylistic complement to what they have. Of course, that doesn't mean the Broncos are trading him. Every indication, in fact, is that they aren't trading him, even though there are reports all over that Marshall is unhappy with his contract and with other unspecified problems with the team following hip surgery that will keep him on the shelf until training camp.

Think about it: after Jay Cutler whined his way out of town, it is hard to believe that the Broncos would agree to another whine-induced deal. The precedent would quickly become untenable. So they aren't likely trading him -- not now, anyway.

But there is always the off-season.

The Eagles are not dying for a receiver right now -- they really aren't. But you never know how things are going to play out -- who is going to develop and who isn't; who is going to get hurt and who isn't. And if there is any kind of a chance that this guy could shake loose, well, don't you want to get in line?

Joe, make the call now -- because you never know.

The world that orbits around the Phillies is still talking about the call on Friday night, when Greg Dobbs' extra-inning, potential gamewinning bomb against the Red Sox was ruled a foul ball by first base umpire Jim Joyce. The ball was high, so high, that it was higher than the top of the foul pole in rightfield. There has been talk about how long Joyce took to make the call, about how they had to go to replay on a play that close, and how this is a sign of the typical arrogance that baseball umpires have exhibited forever.

Well, no.

My guess is that he didn't go to replay because there is no earthly camera angle that could tell you if the call was right or wrong. Because, you know, there isn't.

The NFL has the same issue with field goals. They do not tend to be controversial plays, and field goals were not reviewable at all until recently. But there was a wacky one a couple of years ago, one that hit the curved base of the upright oddly and bounced back onto the field of play. The officials eventually got it right but, after that, replay was instituted for field goals.

Except in this case, from the NFL rulebook:

Non-reviewable plays include...Field goals that cross above either upright without touching anything.

The reason is simple: there is no way to tell. There is no camera on earth that can pinpoint the location of the ball at the instance it crosses over the upright. (Well, maybe if they had a camera embedded in the upright, pointed skyward -- but, I mean, come on. Even then, I'm not sure you could tell.)

The NFL won't even allow its officials to take a whack at that one on replay because there is no chance the camera can tell you for sure -- which is the standard you need in order to change the call. Baseball's standard is the same, by the way.

Might Joyce have gotten it wrong? Yes, he might have. But replay could not conceivably have offered evidence either way to overturn the call on a ball hit that high over the foul pole. So if that's the case, if there was no possible way to overturn it, there was no reason to go to replay.

It just would have been a waste of time.

ESPN is reporting that Donovan McNabb's new contract adds a potential total of $6.3 million to the value of the deal over two seasons, including incentives. It was worth $19.2 million and now it could be worth $25.5 million.

You wonder if Andy Reid knew it would cost the team that much when he benched McNabb that day in Baltimore.

Because that's what this is -- flowers, candy and $6.3 million all wrapped up in a pretty bow. It isn't an apology, not exactly, but it is an acknowledgment that the relationship changed on the day when Reid had quarterbacks coach Pat Shurmur tell a terribly-struggling McNabb to sit down at halftime against the Baltimore Ravens. McNabb was personally offended and could not hide the fact. He would never acknowledge the struggles and would never acknowledge that aftermath -- that is, he ended a month-long slump and played much better after the benching.

It was more than that, though -- because despite Reid's denials, everybody believes that backup Kevin Kolb would have retained the job if he had found a way to beat the Ravens that day in a pretty impossible situation for a young quarterback. The truth was, McNabb's contract had made him disposable.

This contract makes him less disposable, at least a little bit. That the deal was not extended beyond 2010 is significant, leaving all options open. But in the here and now, depending upon the level of guarantees put into the deal for 2010, another benching just got less likely from a financial standpoint.

So, on a cosmic level, McNabb got to win one here. He got to reassert his McNabb-ness. He forced the Eagles to demonstrate to the world that he is still strong and still valued. All of this boiled over that day in Baltimore, and now it is finally resolved.

Now, all he has to do is win the last game.

Good column in the New York Post today by Mike Vaccaro. What it did, more than anything, was paint a picture of the dynamic that exists between the Mets and the Phillies, about how the Phillies know how to win and how the Mets know this all too well.

Everybody has lived the rivalry the last couple of years. Everybody knows what happened, about how the Mets gagged away their chances as the Phillies caught fire at the end in both 2007 and 2008. Faced with the need to win, a desperate need, the Phillies responded and the Mets wilted.

Gamer. It is a baseball word, even if it sometimes gets applied to athletes in other sports. Gamer. A guy who plays the game. A guy who does what it takes to win. A guy who recognizes those moments in games, those moments when fortunes pivot, and gets himself on the right side of those moments.

Gamer. It is the word that defines so many of the Phillies. And on a night when Jayson Werth makes a great diving catch to save the game in the 10th inning, and then Chase Utley hits his second home run of the night to win it in the 11th, it is a words whose definition was writ so very large. The Mets read it, too.

Manager Jerry Manuel could read it. He said, "It's no secret that this is a team that knows very well how to win baseball games. They take advantage of anything you throw at them."

David Wright -- who hit the ball that Werth caught, who rounded first base with this excruciating look of frustration on his face as Werth tumbled and held on -- could read it. He said, "What we have to do is a better job of answering. Like they do."

The statistical anomalies of the Phillies' 2008 run to the World Series were these: a starting pitching staff that remained completely healthy for the entire season and closer Brad Lidge remaining completely, pristinely, impeccably perfect for the whole year.

Now comes the backlash, the statistical reversion to the mean. Brett Myers is now out for the season following hip surgery and closer Brad Lidge is now on the disabled list with a bum knee after blowing a bunch of saves already in 2009.

This is the same knee that Lidge had surgically repaired twice before the 2008 season. He had cartilage repaired in October and his meniscus repaired in February. He was on crutches, in fact, when the Phillies signed him that winter as a free agent. It seems like a long time ago.

But the knee bothered him in late April, they all admitted. He had an MRI done back then and it was said to have shown no tears and no structural damage. A little rest and a cortisone injection was the prescription and then it was back to work. But the work has been spotty at best and alarming at worst.

All through it, Lidge said he was fine. Now, this -- the disabled list, without a hint that it was coming.

The hope is that this is it -- that a couple of weeks of rest will cure Lidge of what ails him. But you don't know. You have to assume that more testing will be done or already has been done. You have to assume, also, that he is finally frustrated enough with his outcomes to tell the truth about how much this has been bothering him. You want athletes who pitch through pain sometimes. You don't want athletes who try to pitch through injuries -- because this tends to be what happens. It is a fine line, obviously. But you would hate to think that Lidge made things a lot worse by stubbornly ignoring the pain.

There is another possibility, too: that this is just a convenient way of dealing with a confidence issue. Pray that that isn't the case. Because if it is, the next months will be tenuous at best and gut-wrenching at worst.

There is a lot we don't know yet, obviously. The only certainty is that it isn't 2008 anymore.

Poll: Is Lidge to the DL the best move for the Phils? (2975 votes)