In tents and in bars, Eagles fans endured an agonizing and ultimately glorious battle against the Rams

The mood was tense in Lot F.

Tim Logan, a sales manager from Royersford, had set up his tailgate in the parking lot just across the street from Lincoln Financial Field at 8 a.m. His tight-knit group of friends, family, and coworkers were celebrating a milestone: their 190th tailgate at a Philadelphia Eagles game.

They’d swathed two tents in plastic curtains to keep the cold out and fired up a propane grill for quesadillas. Minutes ago, when Saquon Barkley breezed down the field for a fourth-quarter touchdown, they’d believed the game was in the bag.

Now, the Los Angeles Rams had the ball and were marching toward the end zone. “I thought this game was over,” Logan gasped. The tent went silent.

Then: A third-down sack, an incomplete pass, a deafening roar from the field, and a sigh of relief in Lot F. “See you guys for 191!” Logan yelled.

Eagles fans across South Philadelphia spent Sunday afternoon alternating between we-got-this braggadocio and nail-biting tension, screaming at the television in sports bars and huddling around grills in the tailgate lots.

» READ MORE: Eagles survive, storming past the Rams to reach the NFC championship game with a 28-22 win in the snow

As the game kicked off, Tariq Reid, a bartender at SouthHouse, a sports bar on 13th and Shunk Streets, crammed a cheesesteak hat over his green beanie. Reid wasn’t working, but came to watch the game at his neighborhood bar anyway. Would the Eagles snag a win? “Oh, easy. It’s the inner excellence, that’s what it is,” he laughed, referencing the book wide receiver A.J. Brown was spotted reading on the sidelines last week.

Minutes later, quarterback Jalen Hurts ran for a touchdown. Patrons at the packed bar collapsed into cheers and barely paused to groan when kicker Jake Elliott missed the extra point.

Later, Dominic DeFeo and Alex Cottone, who both live nearby, turned away from the game to speak to a reporter and missed a Rams touchdown — and the extra point they scored. “Oh, God, we’re losing,” DeFeo said, briefly despondent. “There’s time,” Cottone assured him.

There was. Across Broad Street at McCusker’s Tavern, fans’ nerves were jangly at halftime, but the mood was upbeat. Tracy Root had returned with her husband, Brian Heffron, to the tiny corner taproom at 17th and Shunk where they got married last spring. Where else would they watch an Eagles playoff game?

“It’s like being in my living room. Everybody here is family, everybody knows each other, there’s no knuckleheads. We’re all part of this community,” said Heffron, a professional wrestler who goes by Blue Meanie in the ring.

Root had carefully selected her outfit for the game, sporting iridescent green and silver eye shadow and a sweatshirt emblazoned with Snoopy in an Eagles jersey. “We personally bring our luck with us, by what socks we wear, the jersey we have on — it’s all on us as fans,” she said, laughing.

The game was close by then. After a third-quarter sack on Hurts, several unprintable phrases were deployed at the massive projector screen covering the back wall at McCusker’s. “This season ...” said Matt Romans, who regularly watches Eagles games at the bar. “I’m not hopeless, but I’m afraid. This season is making me believe — but then I get a little scared.”

But in the last minutes of the fourth quarter outside Lincoln Financial Field, as Barkley ran 78 yards for a touchdown, fans shivering in the tailgate lots allowed themselves a breath. “Imagine if we didn’t sign him,” a woman yelled over the fireworks exploding from the stadium.

Still, Philadelphia sports teams rarely make it easy. In his tent in Lot F, Logan braced himself as the clock ticked down and the Rams lined up for a last drive, then made the rounds for fist-bumps and hugs when the Eagles held on.

Outside, he choked up looking at the ancient Eagles flag flying above the tent: He’d hung it off his car at his first tailgate, outside Veterans Stadium. “It’s the passion for the team,” he said. “And what I love most of all [about tailgating] is all of my friends.” Then he grabbed a coworker and flopped down in the parking lot to make a snow angel.

As heavy snow fell on the tailgate lots, fans hustled toward cars and crowded into the subway station on Broad Street. Waiting for the train, Darryl Boyd brushed snow off his jacket and took stock of the game.

“It was a real football game, one that I’m used to, like we were at Veterans Stadium. To see Saquon break for another 100 yards was ridiculous,” he said. “It’s always been a roller coaster of emotions, but in the last three or four years, I think we’ve finally seen the light.”

Nearby, Michael Vo was shivering, but ebullient. “It was electric — not without a little bit of worry, but the boys pulled it off,” he said. “We got that feeling, that 2018 feeling again. It’s right there.”