THE GENERATIONAL differences were obvious. Longtime businessman Harold Sable surrendered himself without a fight, knowing that he’d taken a shot and lost. C’est la vie.
Glenn, however, still believed in fairy-tale comebacks. He inched away from the officers of the law before breaking into a full run, hoping, presumably, to make it to the hallway and from there to a non-extradition country. But the fat man got about three feet before he was tackled to the carpet, which put an end to his NFL career.
Sports fans would be talking about the notorious Sables for decades to come. Their story would be held up as a cautionary tale for the ages.
Not that the Eagles players on the field knew about any of this. And if they had, they wouldn’t have cared. They were here, at the Super Bowl, with the eyes of the planet on them, and even if the world around them started burning down, they would not be distracted. Also: the Birds were now behind by fourteen points.
“There’s no way the Eagles can win,” Veena said, elbowing Cooper in the ribs.
“Maybe not, but I feel like I’ve already won.”
“How much money will I end up losing to Red?”
“But won’t it be worth it, V.?”
“Not really.”
“Come on, you’ll be dining out on this story for years.”
However, Lion and Lamb had spoken too soon, because in the fourth quarter, Terry Mortelite led a furious drive that stunned everyone and sent the game into overtime.
After the Birds won the toss (another piece of luck), Mortelite and McCoy pulled off five straight passes that led to Jimmy Tua scoring a two-yard touchdown, an epic upset that electrified Philadelphia and applied a bit of salve to the city’s many wounds.
But that was the crazy-beautiful thing about this town. It was a place where anything could happen and often did.
Totally random things—like Veena Lion and Cooper Lamb leaving SoFi Stadium arm in arm after the game with a giggling Ariel and Cooper Jr. by their sides.
How crazy and beautiful is that?