andy reids sons
This is not a story of a quarterback debate. Too commonplace, too outdated, and frankly, impossible to get. See the Philadelphia Eagles coach Andy Reid in a sharp decline this week, at lunchtime, jumped out the door in his trademark shorts, never breaking stride or even eye contact with it. He's not going to answer another question.
See Michael Vick, thumbing his mobile phone, I accidentally shut down more than my own store, which happens to sit next to Kevin Kolb. Last week, the Eagles' bye, Vick received a series of text messages. They were in Kolb. One of the few pictures of a dead turkey Kolb bags during a trip home to Texas, another was marked with a wild boar to a bad fate, and bowed. Watch the boys get to the yacht, everything reminds Kolb typing in the testosterone filled week of reflection and camouflage.
Kolb sent the text, remember, just days after Vick reclaimed the starting job with the same festive Kolb was presented last spring. This is a confusing, strange and seemingly harmonious time in Philadelphia, and the two men in the middle of it could no longer oppose it. One is a lefty lightning rod in the debate enough baggage to the Philadelphia International Airport terminal to complete the rest of right-handed son of a football coach, one-owner RV park in the capital of the cowboy world.
Kolb, all so perfect, so the team, Kevin, first and last, must sometimes think that Reid's smile during the high-thick mustache.