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The Tragic Tale of Eagle Helga

It's a strange and awkward life when you're a fictional palindromic cheerleader. Did you expect anything different?

NOT Eagle Helga
NOT Eagle Helga
Joe Camporeale-USA TODAY Sports

Besides writing about the Eagles, I'm slightly famous for writing palindromes since I'm the World Champion of that bizarre pastime. On Twitter, @Reef215 asked a logical question -- do I ever combine my two passions?

The thing is, it's not quite as simple as that.

You have to work with the words and letters you’re given, and the names on this team (from Philadelphia to Chip to Linc) are pretty much irreversible.

The Oregon Ducks were much more palindromic, and I wrote an article about several of them in 2011, including current Eagles Kiko Alonso and Josh Huff. I won't reprint Kiko's palindrome, which was pretty great, so as to protect the delicate sensitivities of Eagles fans. (Let's just say it revolves around a pun on the name of Washington State's team -- the Cougars.)

With Huff, I wrote that injuries made it harder to cheer for him:

Go, Josh O. Huff! Uh-oh. So, jog.

Still, I did my best with this Eagles team. I knocked out a few, which are so weak that they prove my point.

Yo, Logan - no gal? Oy.

Thanks to Bounty Hunter Fund, who caught my error here. And also the error in my correction. He even suggested a good variation:  "Nag OL, Logan."  Alright. That's enough now.

Nag old Logan!

Sob, Nero! Did Dorenbos?

Wolff, flow!

Rend rag, Gardner.

Hart! Rah!

As I explored, I found that a palindromic tale did emerge, but it wasn't about any of the players. Instead, I bring you the tragic tale of Eagle Helga, the cheerleader.

The life of an NFL cheerleader sounded very exciting when she was being recruited by the current cheerleaders, though there was a hint of the mean girl politics that she would soon know all too well.

Slapdash sin up to here! Wet a lip, Eagle Helga. Epilate. We're hot! Punish sad pals.

And there was a brief moment of glory after she was finally chosen to join.

I made it. I prevail. I am Eagle Helga! Email, I aver. Pitied, am I?

But soon, she found that it's a constraining life full of confusing orders.

Pee! Wet a lip, Eagle Helga. Epilate! Weep!

And eventually, she began to receive offensive commands.

Sag on Tim, Eagle Helga. Emit no gas.

Soon enough, the tabloid web sites spread rumors of misdeeds that were almost certainly untrue.

Stacy, Ella was in an ebullient lax Eagle (Helga). Exalt Neil, lube Nan! I saw alley cats.

As time passed, the pressure to stay thin and young proved ever more cruel.

Dame gained, lost six. Eagle Helga exists, olden. "I age, mad!"

Helga reached her low point when she recruited by a concubine to leave the Eagles and join her in the harem of a Sultan named Ned, who prefers older women. In that crowd, she was considered young. The concubine's pitch was odd:

Pudenda old, I kegel, lock on at lust! Lax Eagle Helga, exalt Sultan! OK, college kid? Load Ned up.

Fortunately, there is a happy ending. Helga was so disgusted by this offer that she quit public life altogether, and married a sweet UDFA who was cut early in training camp. They live a quiet, unglamorous life of modest means and true love with their two kids, to this very day.

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