McNabb Keeps House Safe Through Trickeration

Each football beat writer worth his or her salt has canvassed their home team over the last week to see what the players do with their guns (assuming they own them) in light of Plaxico Burress’ dumbassery a week ago.  It’s an easy lede and a way to avoid asking the same six questions every week and getting the same two answers (”no comment” or “die in a fire”).

Donovan McNabb is sneaky

In Philly, the PRESS OF ATLANTIC CITY got what you’d expect: we all own guns but they’re all properly licensed in every state and we only use them for target shooting and we always listen to the team security chief and oh God do you think Der Kommissar is listening?

Not Donovan McNabb, though; he’s got a brilliant plan to protect his house and he’s not telling you:

You are not just going to walk into my house freely. I’m not saying what’s in my house, but I know that you’re not going to get it. You might get something else.

Is it the same kind of bait-and-switch that you pull in the huddle when you promise to throw the ball to your own team and then fool everyone by throwing it to the opposing team?  If so, you might want to hide your house under tarps and loose branches and shout in a sing-song voice, “NO HOUSE HERE. NO ONE SHOULD LOOK HERE FOR A HOUSE. NOPE.”

It’s a better game plan than Andy Reid’s drawn up all year, anyway.