Hello.

We are glad to be back with you at Philly Fan Complex. As you may have noticed over the past two weeks, our content has been lacking. By lacking, we mean nonexistent. Again, this is something you may or may not have noticed in your thrice-hourly visits to our site, but we figured enough of you had noticed that it should be addressed.

If one were to explain the gaping hole left in the Philadelphia sports community by our seemingly sudden and tragic fall from the media landscape, then one should file it under the “Blowing Off Steam” category. Commonly this is known as “Vacation”, or “Temporary Lapse in Sanity”, but this can be accurately chalked up to the seductive lure of greenbacks, distilled spirits and a general longing for sun, water and lounging.

You the reader have made this a profitable venture. Exclusive Swiss banks hound us around the clock, begging for our capital. Rather than stash it, however, we figured the only proper thing to do would be to enjoy it, a small portion at a time. Read: all at once.

Pure and simple, the money went to our heads. We thought there was nothing to do but take off immediately for the nearest private tropical island, gobble up all the available real estate and build private vacation homes for our dearest 50 friends and acquaintances, in which we would whittle away our days drenched in pure agave tequila and shriveling like a raisin in the sun. Don’t ever let someone tell you money doesn’t go to your head. (Except you, Ryan Howard.)

And on a related note, don’t let anyone tell you that money is infinite (Especially you, Lenny Dykstra). Our venture into a lifelong vacation was abruptly cut short at 12 days by the minor hiccup of account overdraft. So we fled, like Ambien zombie Tiger, back to the cruel yet merciful mistress known as the Philly Fan Complex.

In short, that explains where we’ve gone and where we’ve been. But now we’re back, baby, and as Andy Reid always says: “Donovan will be our starting quarterback.” Whoops.

Time’s yours.