Phawker

The eldest son of Eagles coach Andy Reid [not pictured] admitted using heroin on the same day he was involved in a traffic accident in Plymouth Township, according to court documents released today.

Garret Reid [not pictured] “waived his right to remain silent and provided two written statements,” according to a search warrant affidavit. “Reid acknowledged using heroin, a schedule I controlled substance, on Tuesday, January 30, 2007.

“Reid also acknowledged possessing drug paraphernalia including hypodermic syringes.”

The affidavit enabled police to obtain search warrants that led to the discovery of two handguns, ammunition, white powder and other items in two vehicles and the Main Line home owned by the veteran Eagles coach.

Garrett and younger brother Britt, 21, [also not pictured] await the results of a series of lab tests that could plunge them deeper into legal trouble.

INQUIRER: That’s Strange, We Were Just Talking About Rich White Privlege Getting Stupid

Police in two suburban municipalities and the Montgomery County District Attorney’s Office are continuing investigations into separate traffic incidents involving two of Eagles coach Andy Reid’s sons.

The first incident, on Tuesday morning, involved Britt Reid, a second man, and a gun. Law enforcement officials would not say who possessed the weapon.

NBC10, quoting a law enforcement source, reported last night that investigators found a gun in Britt Reid’s car, and a platinum handgun during a search of the Reid home Tuesday night in Villanova. That gun was reportedly in a lockbox in the basement.

When asked last night if a search warrant had been served on the Reid home, Montgomery County First Assistant District Attorney Risa Vetri Ferman said: “West Conshohocken police served two search warrants yesterday… . I will not comment on what was found during the course of the search.”

INQUIRER: Shit, Coach Is Gonna Make You Run A MAD Of Laps For This, Son

Since Andre Waters killed himself in November, an explanation for the former Eagles safety’s suicide has remained a mystery. But after examining remains of Waters’ brain, a neuropathologist in Pittsburgh is claiming that Waters had suffered brain damage from playing football and he says that led to his depression and ultimate death.

Dr. Bennet Omalu, of the University of Pittsburgh, a leading expert in forensic pathology, determined that Waters’ brain tissue had degenerated into that of an 85-year-old man with similar characteristics as those of early-stage Alzheimer’s victims. Omalu said he believed the damage was either caused or drastically expedited by successive concussions Waters, 44, had sustained playing football.

DAILY NEWS: Bang Your Head, And Mental Health Will Drive You Mad

LOTS OF FANS responded to my request for alternate suggestions as to the story behind the young lady wearing the “(Bleep) Da Eagles” T-shirt on camera during the Fox telecast of Saturday’s game. Many were creative but unprintable.

The image and story behind it have taken on a life of their own, to the point where Maxim magazine is looking for the woman for a possible photo spread. (With actual winged, feathered, strategically placed eagles, one would hope… maybe they can borrow the one Stephen Colbert uses in the opening to his show.)

– Reader Mitch Gerhart feels there is a language- based misunderstanding, that “Fuck Da Eagles” is actually Cajun for “John 3:16.”

DAILY NEWS: Stay Classy New Orleans

Friday night was the last episode of “Quite Frankly,” the weeknight ESPN2 show hosted by Inqwaster‘s Stephen A. Smith. The station canceled the show, and on his ESPN Radio show Friday, Smith said he accepts blame for the ratings being lackluster.

According to the sports network, Smith will continue to play a large role for ESPN/ESPN2.

“The other things he does for us are going to increase,” an ESPN spokesman said Friday night. He added that Smith will be seen on air “as much or more than ever.”

However, Smith’s comments to Phawker.com on Friday, suggest he is leaving the sports network.

Smith said doing a new show on ESPN2 was a tremendous challenge, but he’s proud of what he and his staff accomplished. Smith wrote: “Now I move on to future challenges – while enthusiastically embracing old ones like writing for the Inquirer on a more frequent basis.”

Smith did not respond to our e-mails seeking comment.

DAILY NEWS: Gee, That’s Funny, He Responded To PHAWKER’s Email
PREVIOUSLY: Stephen A. Smith Responds To Phawker’s Email

BY PATRICK BERKERY Down in the Big Easy, where the Eagles’ unexpected playoff push came to a screeching halt Saturday night, there’s a colloquialism called lagniappe. It means “a little something extra.” And what Jeff Garcia, Brian Dawkins, Brian Westbrook, Marty Mornhinweg et al gave us after Donovan went down was a totally unforeseen little something extra. Well done, boys. Well done. That said, the way it ended stings. Badly. Lagniappe, schmaniappe, I say. The defense might’ve been sucking wind late in the fourth quarter, but Garcia was still cocked and loaded (insert rumors of Garcia being homosexual-related punch line here). We could’ve won that game. The fine city of New Orleans hasn’t seen strategy as bad as Andy Reid’s decision to punt on 4th and 15 since FEMA was running the show down there. Our boys didn’t scratch, claw and overachieve their way to a division title only to be cockblocked with such a gutless call. Heckuva job, Big Red. Speaking of egregious in-game decisions: FOX can show Jeffrey Lurie waving his arms in protest for a good 10 seconds when he thinks the refs spot the ball short of an Eagles first down, but they can’t get a camera on him and Joe Banner when it became clear Andy was totally not shittin’ us about this 4th and 15 thing? Was Lurie fashioning a noose from his wife’s scarf? I’ll bet he was. And now Valania wants me to go Dutch with him on a Soul season ticket plan. Man, fuck this shit. The only thing that makes the whole mess easier to take is the following: 31 days until pitchers and catchers. I repeat: 31 days until pitchers and catchers.

BY PATRICK BERKERY Love these Nerf-ish Eagles profiles the local news roll outs during the playoffs. Dunno know about you, but nothing gets me ready for game day more than a reporter who knows nothing about football hanging with player X and his trophy wife at some atrocity of a Toll Brothers home in south Jersey, while the rugrats zip around in toy Hummers in the background. Are you ready for some playoff football? This “On the Sidelines” report from Fox 29′s Michelle Williams is a little different. Watch as she “ooohs” and “aaahs” at long snapper/magician Jon Dorenbos’s card tricks over crab fries and Zimas at Chickie’s & Pete’s. The way she gets all dewy over Dorenbos’s bush league slight-of-hand makes you think the part-time magician had no trouble making Williams’ inhibitions disappear when the cameras stopped rolling, if you catch my drift. And I think you do. Can you say, `Backfield in motion?’ Of course you can.

BY PATRICK BERKERY Name-dropping: it isn’t just for sycophant promo-sexuals anymore. (I’m not naming names, but if you’re feeling a little hot in your complimentary My Morning Jacket fleece pullover, as your Shins advance plays in the background and you’re meeting Irv Fucknut from Suck My Dick records for dinner at the Tin Angel tonight before some emerging singer-songwriter’s 7:30 set, then, yeah, I’m looking right at you.) So humor me, and my little brush with baseball genius. I participated in the annual Hot Stove Cool Music benefit concerts in Boston last weekend. Lots of baseball dignitaries like ESPN’s Peter Gammons are involved (a total gentleman and a very good singer and guitarist, by the by), and the weekend’s festivities benefit a foundation established by Red Sox wunderkind general manager Theo Epstein. Like Gammons, Theo is also a total gentleman and a damn good guitarist.

After Sunday’s show, Theo and I get to talking, mostly about rock and that afternoon’s Eagles and Pats playoff games. Just a couple guys having a couple of beers, really. Then, out of nowhere, he asks, “Man, why’s everyone so down on Pat Burrell?” I give him the usual litany: “He stays out late, he whisky-dicks it in the clutch, his swing has more holes than Rafael Robb’s alibi, he makes too much money, he’s untradeable, he’s not media-friendly.”

Then I add, “But, heck, the guy’s had a bum foot for three years now and he’s still putting up decent enough numbers. If that foot ever fully heals, he could surprise a lot of people.”

Theo nods in agreement and says, with what I took as total sincerity, “You’re absolutely right about that. Maybe he just needs a situation where he could DH and play first occasionally, to take the stress off his foot.” (more…)

“Prior to the Titans loss, the Birds dropped three of their previous four despite being the favorites in each game. Obviously a huge reason for their late season rally has been the reemergence of Jeff Garcia as a top flight QB. Since taking over the QB duties, Garcia has completed 62% of his passes while throwing 10 touchdowns to 2 interceptions. Garcia’s familiarity with the West Coast offense obviously made his transition to starter that much easier. [...] The best part of all is if you were to bet the Philadelphia Eagles to win the 2007 Super Bowl heading into the Wildcard Weekend, the payout odds were listed at 12/1 (or a $1200 payout for every $100 bet).”

GAMBLING.COM: Look Into My Boobs, You Are Getting Very, Very Horny!

BY PATRICK BERKERY About six weeks ago, I’m on tour with the Pernice Brothers. I’m in the lobby of a hotel outside Eugene, Ore., watching some AFC game on a rainy Sunday with Kevin, our merch guy. We’re discussing the rapidly approaching twilight of Donovan McNabb’s career, guesstimating that if he doesn’t bring home a ring this year or next, he’s the Jim Kelly of the ’00s — just with a higher Q rating.

Then they cut to footage of McNabb being helped off the field in Tennessee with a grimace on his face that says “See you in 8-to-12 months.” There went that twilight. The following Sunday, Kevin and I are sitting at a bar in Albuquerque watching backup QB Jeff Garcia getting some reps against the Colts, who manhandled the Birds like a $50 hooker at a Circuit City regional managers convention. Next Monday, we witness Garcia lead the team in a spirited comeback against Carolina as we feast on signature dishes from celebrity chef Tyler Florence in a North Carolina Applebee’s (Kevin — the salmon, me — the herb-crusted chicken).

While that riveting contest actually drove me to high-five another grown man in a chain restaurant and then dry-hump the flair right off our spitfire waitress in celebration, I didn’t dare view it as portent of a division title. Then I get home a few weeks later and everyone starts going ape shit. Wilma McNabb gets borderline Yoko lamenting her son’s injury…ON HIS WEB SITE!!!
Mooks like “Nick from Hatboro” are calling WIP suggesting that even if Jeff Garcia gets a big free agent deal elsewhere (very possible after this current hot streak) they should still unload McNabb because “that A.J. Feely kid can play a little.” Yeah, very little. And in the ultimate stroke of “Did That Actually Happen?” pop culture mindfucks (like when you come across a Saturday Night Live rerun and Richard Moll – Night Court‘s Bull – is the host) Garcia makes the cover of Sports Illustrated. You want to know what I think about all this craziness? Everyone should just take a big gulp of calm-the-fuck-down juice, chase it with a Yards, and enjoy this while it lasts. Which, given the parity in the NFC, could easily be another few weeks. (more…)