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Like most God fearing Americans, I like my fat people to be jolly and simple. Think Santa. Vern Tessio from Stand By Me. That obese dancing feedbag with a boom box from the WMMR commercials in the late 80s.

Andy Reid, while plenty plump, however, is seemingly joyless and endlessly complex. Which is not to say I don’t like him. It is to say that I just don’t get him.

The man is a study in contradictions. He’s notoriously stubborn, yet his teams always perform better as the season progresses, suggesting that he makes adjustments. He absolutely worships the pass, yet he’s a former offensive lineman, a position that typically loves the run game, since it means aggressive blocking instead of the defensive stance of pass blocking. He takes every bit of blame for his team’s in-game failures, suggesting player loyalty, but will quickly cut ties with a player he feels is even slightly past their prime (Troy Vincent, Hugh Douglas, Duce Staley, etc.). He’s a devout Mormon, but his kid’s lives are an After School Special that not even Meredith Baxter Birney could fix (it’s also a topic I don’t think should be covered by the media any more).

He’s been the team’s most successful coach ever, but it always feels like he could be better.

Well, that last one might be because we’re Philadelphia fans. But regardless, even Andy’s fans–of which I am one–go through stretches of intense doubt of his abilities. Yes, we point to the 4 NFC Championship games, the near Super Bowl win and the nearly annual playoff appearances. But there’s a lingering sense that his game planning is often suspect, his clock management is sub-moronic and he undervalues key positions, such as wide receiver and linebacker.

Indeed, the man is an enigma wrapped in a cruller.

As the Birds now sit at 3-4 (though two plays from 5-2), the region is calling for his head. But let’s remember that the guy typically does his best coaching when his back is to the wall. After McNabb’s first injury, when a completely inexperienced AJ Feeley took them to the playoffs. When they started 0-2 and looked positively atrocious the year after the Tampa Bay NFC Championship Game (on a side note, isn’t it funny how you delineate years in the early 2000s by NFC Championship Game losses?). Then again last year, when McNabb went down and Mr. Carmella Decesare piloted us to some of our proudest moments in recent years.

The only time he failed to rally the team was the famed TO year, which was the perfect storm of clusterfuck-up-nessed that would have made Lombardi cry, Walsh weep, and Belichick’s cyborg circuits fry.

So shouldn’t we know by now not to call for Andy’s head? Shouldn’t we know that these are the exact moments of the season that we all block out when we look back on our 10+ win seasons? Doesn’t the most successful coach in the organization’s history deserve a bit of slack?

I say yes. But couldn’t the guy just make it easier on us? And by “easier on us” I mean “run the goddamned motherfucking ball every once in a while?”

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