The Eagles’ Tush Push is their superpower. The Dolphins couldn’t stop it. No one can.

There were 10 minutes and 1 second left in regulation Sunday when, facing a fourth-and-1 from their own 26-yard line, leading by seven points, the Eagles used their first timeout of the second half. Consider now the entirety of the Eagles’ 31-17 victory over the Dolphins, and consider that moment.

For … let’s say … 99.1% of professional football history, a team in the situation that the Eagles faced in that moment would probably not take a timeout. Its coaching staff would not deliberate about what to do. Go for it? For 99.1% of professional football history, going for it would not be an option. Hell, there would not be options, plural. Any team, every team, would believe itself to have just one option in that situation. Any team, every team, would punt the ball away in that situation, because it would be far too risky and potentially damaging to go for it and not get the first down.

And here’s the funny part: Nick Sirianni was going to have the Eagles punt the ball. Swear. He wasn’t certain exactly how far away the Eagles were from a first down. He thought they needed 2 yards. Not quite, as it turned out. He was frustrated with himself. Didn’t want to burn that timeout.

“He sent the punt team out,” center Jason Kelce said. “Then he comes up on the sideline and says, ‘[Bleep] that. We’re going for it. What am I thinking?’”

Good question. Had Sirianni punted there, the decision would have cut against the Eagles’ entire ethos, their identity, everything that defines their approach to winning. They have made themselves the bold and brazen and convention-flouting exception to that long-standing unspoken rule throughout 99.1% of professional football history. They have mastered what has become the most controversial play in the NFL. Call it the Tush Push. Call it the Brotherly Shove. Call it a supercharged quarterback sneak. Whatever. The damn thing works, and it works pretty much every time. The Eagles have used it 44 times since Week 1 of the 2022 season. It has worked 41 times. It works so often for the Eagles that there are people in and around the NFL who think the league ought to ban the play, because It’s not really football or It’s boring or any number of excuses and reasons that don’t amount to much more than We just don’t like it.

“Ain’t our problem,” running back D’Andre Swift said.

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So no, the Eagles did not punt on fourth-and-1 from their own 26. They went for it, and Jalen Hurts surged forward for 2 yards and a first down. And three plays later, he did exactly the same thing, this time from the Eagles’ 37. Another first down. And five plays later, Kenneth Gainwell scored from the Dolphins’ 3, and the Eagles had a two-touchdown lead, and the outcome of a game that had once been close, against an opponent that had been regarded as dangerous, quickly became a formality.

It is difficult to take a proper measure of how powerful that play, their version of the QB sneak, has become for the Eagles. Take what can be quantified from Sunday first. The Eagles ran the play four times against the Dolphins: three times on fourth down, once on the Miami goal line. They earned three first downs and a touchdown. By getting that first down with 10:01 to go, they weren’t able just to go on and score. They ran 5 minutes, 15 seconds off the game clock. That’s 5 minutes, 15 seconds that Tyreek Hill and Jaylen Waddle weren’t on the field. That’s 5 minutes, 15 seconds that Dolphins coach Mike McDaniel didn’t have to devise a quick-strike drive to try to tie the game.

“It’s just a stupid little quarterback sneak,” Kelce said. “But every time you get one of those, it’s not a turnover. We get to maintain possession. Obviously, you see how crucial those situations can be. They add up over the course of a game. It’s a situation like that, where you go on and score, that magnifies it more. It is a game-changing dynamic at times.”

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Now, take what can’t be quantified about the Tush Push. Imagine how it must embolden Sirianni, Brian Johnson, Hurts, and all the Eagles’ other offensive players to know that they have a play that they can call whenever they need it … and no one can stop it. For all the high-tech veneer of modern football, for all the scheming and personnel matching and brain power used to act and counteract over the course of a game, at its core the sport is still man on man, force on force. At its core, the sport is a battle of physical and psychological strength, and the Eagles have an advantage on both fronts.

“Every first down, it’s first-and-9,” Sirianni said. “You’ve seen it across the league: People can’t do it like we can do it. They can’t do it like we can do it. So I’m making my plea right there. Don’t ban this play. If everyone could do it, everyone would. Where are the cameras?”

He turned forward and looked into them, at the back of the interview room.

“If everybody could do it, everybody would do it.”

Everybody can’t. The Eagles can. This is the one aspect, the one moment, the one play where they know, in the marrow of the bones, that they cannot be beaten. They’re 6-1 now because of it.