He's got all kinds of time
All kinds of time
He takes a step back
He's under attack
But he knows that no one can touch him now
He seems so at ease
A strange inner peace
Is all that he's feeling somehow
He's got all kinds of time
Given the lyrics, and the fact that Fountains of Wayne are from New Jersey, it's easy to believe that they wrote All Kinds Of Time with Donovan McNabb in mind. They didn't, of course, but McNabb's performance in the pocket is nothing if not inspiring.
Watching McNabb perform in the pocket is like watching Michelangelo let loose in a white-walled Sistine Chapel. He's at his happiest there, no doubt, and as he looks downfield for an open receiver, he oozes confidence out of every pore. Sure, I loved the rocket to Freddie Mitchell for their first touchdown, and I always enjoy seeing McNabb run 6 yards for a crucial first down. But there's nothing quite as beautiful as watching McNabb dance in the pocket.
It always feels like you're watching it in slow motion. He gets the ball and begins to dance, seconds slowly ticking off the play clock. Defenders make their way towards him as his feet are constantly moving to the soundtrack it seems he's hearing in his head. Tick...tick...tick. Seconds slowly tick off and still, no one is open. A defender gets through protection and finds himself at McNabb's feet, at which he throws himself in an effort to bring him down. But this is Donovan McNabb, and nothing is as easy as it seems. He flicks him off like a bug, and is alone in the pocket once again. Tick, tick, tick. His calm eyes finally spot an open target and he launches a bullet towards the endzone.
Touchdown, Eagles. All eyes shift to the receiver, momentarily forgetting the artist 40 yards down the field who has just created yet another masterpiece.
He looks to the left
He looks to the right
And there in a golden ray of light
Is his open man
Just as he planned
The whole world is his tonight
And last night, it certainly was.
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