HOUSTON — It was the best of nights. It was the worst of nights. It was a night when Philadelphians and Houstonians suffered whiplash, motion sickness, vertigo, and the emotional overload of agonies and ecstasies. Millions of people split their screens, picture-in-pictured, and otherwise tried to serve two major league masters as their cities’ most significant teams met at each others’ municipalities. It was Philadelphians, mostly, since Houston football stinks. I was one of them — working in Houston at a football game, living and dying on every pitch in Philadelphia. The unbeaten Eagles trave…
