"The Fantoo Girls - these are the girls you wish were sitting next to you at the sports bar on game day."

In last week's column, I asked for your stories about Dad introducing you to the passion of being an Eagles fan, and I have to say I was overwhelmed by the responses I received and have read them all - some more than once. Some made me thankful that I'm not the only one pulled by a past that included loyalty to a team that is now the enemy. Some made me laugh at the lengths to which parents will go to instill an Eagles devotion in their child, and some made me cry because they showed how sports brings parents and children together and allows them to experience emotional highs and lows that are often difficult to achieve with other hobbies and interests. (Yes, I know I'm hormonal and I tend to cry during pet commercials, but I kid you not - some of these stories were real tear-jerkers.)

As many of you know, I was raised by Giants fans. Thank Vince Lombardi I was able to break free, see the light and find my way here. But without these Giants fans (otherwise known as parents) I might never have developed the love for sports that makes my life so satisfying today.

As the last of eight children (five boys, three girls), I have to admit that I got spoiled when it came to attending sporting events with my Dad. The older ones had moved on in life and I was there for the taking. And take he did. I was attending New York Rangers games and eating in the Hall of Fame club when I was nine years old. I had my own Giants season ticket at age 10 when the stadium opened with a Giants loss to the Dallas Cowboys on October 10th, 1976. (I should have seen the writing on the wall.) I even went to the Cosmos games, and yes, to Nets games. I never did fall prey to that club known as the Devils, instead moving seamlessly from a Rangers fan to my beloved Flyers before I ever left the Garden State.

While other associates of my Dad's were bringing their clients or friends to games, my Dad was bringing me. And that is what will stick with me forever. He saw the benefit of exposing me to sports and enjoyed teaching me and simply spending time with me doing something that we both loved. I felt quite special to be the lone girl on many of those occasions, holding my own with the adults and have benefited in many ways by the fact that he treated me no differently than my brothers. I honestly don't remember if I ever had a doll, but I sure did have a closet full of "GOAL" and "HOOP Magazines" with my favorite stories dog-eared, and a stack of ticket stubs that could heat a whole house today if burned.

Sadly, he passed away in 1989. But I have to admit, I'm sure glad I don't have to look him in the eye and tell him I am an Eagles fan. You can bet all the sports freebies would dry up like a single rain drop in the Mojave desert. But I do thank him constantly for opening my eyes to the world of sports because it has become my passion and now my chosen career.

But enough about me - onto this land full of Eagles fans. Off the bat, I applaud you all for I am convinced that their isn't a finer fan base in all of sports, and this fan base stretches from sea to shining sea.

Many of you have moved around the country but maintained your Eagles devotion like Wayne B. in Gaithersburg, Md. He'd wear his Eagles jersey into a den of rabid Cowboys fans with a sign that says "Hit Me." This man is the very definition of fearless. And he has passed this singular devotion on to his two sons. Now, since the statute of limitations is up, I will also share that his Dad taught him the fine art of sneaking into the Vet, which is exactly what they did for the 1980 Eagles-Dallas NFC Championship game. Back door, greased palm, the whole nine yards. Later, through hard work and the right connections (and a fear of jail), he made an honest man out of Dad and treated him to a game where criminal behavior was not the price for admission.

Apparently many people went to great lengths to attend that very same Dallas game, which brings me to a young Eagles fan at the time, Jim C. currently residing in Michigan, originally of South Jersey. I wouldn't say this isn't criminal in nature, but it's a good thing this young man did what his parents told him to do. Both of his parents wanted to attend the game, and as luck would have it, every babysitter in the Delaware Valley was booked. So they did what any good Eagles fan would do - they said, "Son, you're staying home by yourself."

At the time he wasn't a big Eagles fan preferring to terrorize the neighborhood on his bicycle I am sure, but he was definitely psyched that he was going to get to stay home by himself courtesy of the Birds. There was one condition however. He had to watch the game. The whole game. Start to finish. Presumably this would keep him from burning down the house, locking the cat in the dryer, or any number of things that 12-year-old boys will attempt while left alone to their own devices. He watched alright. And when Wilbert Montgomery made that historic dash for the end zone, little Jimmy jumped up and down on the couch and promptly put a big fat hole in the ceiling.

Why is it that no matter how innocent their actions, little boys always end up doing physical damage to things?

Jim didn't get punished that day, and he eventually talked his way into owning one of Dad's season tickets. What struck me about Jim's letter is that the many memories he has of attending games center around the fun he had with his Dad, not necessarily the games and their outcomes. In his words, "We'll always have a common bond with the Eagles and some of my best memories of time spent together center around our beloved team. Think I'll give him a call and talk about the rookies." Hope you did Jim, and if you get a chance to come back to Philly make sure you take your Dad to a game in style.

Ken L., a member of our Navy stationed in Virginia Beach (thanks for your service, dude!), thought his letter might be a tad bit on the boring side, but I think it is one of those simple but profound statements about our Dads and parents in general - we are, in large part, products of our parents. So, when you choose a football team to root for, please choose wisely, as your children may be bound by that loyalty for life. (Or they could grow up to be like me, which isn't necessarily what you want.) Ken is an Eagles fan because his parents mandated it. It's that age old saying - "Because I said so." And now he proudly honors his parents by not wishing death to all Cowboys and Redskins fans - c'mon, he was raised right! - but he does wish them "really, really, really horrible, painful, disastrous football seasons."

Which brings me to Joe S., whose location must remain secret for fear of retaliation by his parents for sharing this story. Like my parental scenario, neither Joe's Mom or Dad were fortunate enough to be Eagles fans. But his situation is way worse than mine. His Mom is a season-ticket carrying Giants fan, and his Dad - this is ugly - is a Cowboys fan.

(Joe - there are ways to deal with this tragedy. I'd suggest either therapy or a pork Italiano from Tony Luke's.)

His Mom would dress him up in a Giants outfit and his Dad would turn right around and throw a Cowboys jersey on him. Can you imagine the pain and humiliation??? At least he had the sense to burn the jersey later on in life. Lo and behold, salvation was just around the corner and we all can thank Randall Cunningham. Due to Randall's athleticism and Joe's love of the color green (who says girls are the only ones that pick their favorite team because of the uniform color?!) he bravely stood up to his family and said, "I am an Eagles fan!" His Dad promptly threw up. (Okay, okay, I made that part up.) But this is a fact - when the Eagles beat the Giants at Giants/Jets/And Whoever Else Wants To Play Here Stadium last year, Joe and his grandmother were in attendance. At the conclusion of the game she turned to her grandson and said, "I hate you."

Hilarious.

So, as Father's Day approaches, I ask you all to honor your Dad by kicking back and reflecting with him on the times spent together - whether they be after wins or losses - supporting your Eagles. Being a passionate sports fan is truly a gift in life. So whether he snuck you into the Vet, told you war stories from seasons past, tucked you in at night while quizzing you on the starters from the 1980 team, or drove you to the Eagles because of his own misguided devotion to the enemy, he handed down to you something that is to be cherished. Just think for a moment what life would be like without sports. I just don't want to go there. I'd rather eat worms.

Random Thoughts From A Redhead

• It has become clear to me now that many of you read the XX Factor while at work. I believe strongly that our writing adds to your overall productivity and encourage you to continue this practice.
• I must state for the record that my Mom was, and is, as passionate a fan as my father was, and quite frankly more knowledgeable. Many of you shared stories about Mom and I promise to revisit this in the future so that we can shine the spotlight on those beautiful ladies.
• IMPORTANT! If you love sports, man or woman, PLEASE marry someone who loves them too. It's way more fun than making up excuses to sneak off to watch a game or beg to put SportsCenter on before bed.
• Thank you to everyone who took the time to write. I couldn't squeeze them all in, but know that they provided me with many hours of entertainment.

Robin McConaughy, Fantoo General Manager Carol and Robin are hosts of the podcast Fantoo Girls - Where the Girls Talk Sports, a national sports-talk podcast, which won the distinction of 'Best Sports Podcast' in the 2006 People's Choice Podcast Awards. They also host a show on Philadelphia's Sports Talk 950 AM from 8-10 AM on Saturdays.   Carol Doroba, Fantoo Head Coach The company they co-founded, Fantoo, Inc., was created as a lifestyle brand for the sports fan. In addition to web and radio broadcasting efforts Carol and Robin are creating TV and Broadband content for sports fans everywhere which focuses on education, entertainment and, of course, opinion.

I was thinking about the ending of "The Sopranos." Ambiguous? Yes. Nerve-racking? Yes. Unsettling? Yes. Dramatic? Yes. The only thing the ending didn't give us was closure. But is that what we really wanted? For a show that never did things the way you expected, weren't you kind of expecting a curveball to come zinging in at the end?

This is how I feel about the upcoming season - and Donovan "Super 5" McNabb's return. There are all the elements of a great mob story right there. The "Don" or Boss is injured in a hit, and his authority is compromised. His underling steps up, more than expected, and goes from Underboss to Boss. All the while, the other Associates must fall in line with the new leader or be squashed by the competition. Drama ensues.

And now, on the Eagles' stage, "Super 5" is making his return. With Jeff "Skinny Legs" Garcia reassigned to a different "family," all McNabb has to do is show No. 2 A.J. "Repo Man" Feeley, No. 3 Kelly "With Spikes" Holcomb and No. 4 Kevin "L'il Tex" Kolb who's still Boss.

Think he's up to the challenge?

Considering that he is "weeks ahead of schedule," has gone on a "Get To Know Me" campaign and just began practice looking very fleet of foot, I would say so. The media blitz he orchestrated to bring attention to himself and his return would never have been set in motion (especially this early) if McNabb didn't think there was something to be recaptured - and if he wasn't confident in his ability to do it.

Yet, even with McNabb's message sent, until he takes the field in a full-contact practice, we won't know for sure what he's capable of. And his "ready to rumble" OTA demonstration brings up a tidal wave of questions about his intentions and whether it's simply too early for him to get back in the business. But it's a good guess that, after this series of injuries, McNabb would know better than anyone else when his body is ready to take the beating that his profession requires. And though I'm sure McNabb would love to step up the pace to rehab completion - there's no way he'll push it for the sake of looking like a hero. There's too much at stake.

(And rest assured that the Eagles organization will not make as large a gaffe as the Phillies did with Freddy Garcia and let him make the lone call as to whether he's fit to play or not.)

This is the make or break year. The year in which McNabb can prove that he has the chops to overcome injury, regalvanize a team with his leadership and take it all the way. And the year to capture the hearts of the fans. Essentially, this is his year to pull a Garcia - that is, achieve Boss status once again, with the full support of the Captains, Soldiers and everyone else is his enterprise's domain.

And watching what "Skinny Legs" Garcia delivered is what I consider to be the biggest benefit of McNabb sitting out of last year's action. Yes, the adulation only could have come with wins, but which came first? Did the fiery Garcia spark the team or did the success of the team spark Garcia? Whatever happened - it had a snowball effect.

Experiencing how Garcia whipped up the Philadelphia faithful in a seething froth had to make McNabb question his approach. He will still be "Super 5" McNabb, the true "Don," but I have a feeling we'll see some changes. And the changes will be genuine, because if Eagles fans smell a rat, it's all over.

So, like the final episode of "The Sopranos," the tension will build and build, with every possible scenario running through your mind as to the outcome. Will life go on as usual? Will the "Super 5" McNabb be compromised by his injury the way Tony was clearly compromised by the FBI? Will he call more plays? Will the run-pass strategy get tweaked? Will he get targeted for a hit (and someone on another team will be "made")? Anything could happen ...

The good thing is, unlike the Sopranos, the Eagles' season will go on and we get to find out what happens next.