“I didn’t see it going any other way than us winning that game 29-28. I’m up here pretty shocked.” — Sean McVay, postgame, January 19, 2025. But shockwaves from the Rams’ NFC Divisional Round collapse to Philly still linger like a bad halftime burrito. Why not?

They were neck and neck until the third quarter, but two field goals by Jake Elliott and a 78-yard touchdown by Saquon Barkley set them back. Matthew Stafford fired a 4-yard touchdown pass to tight end Colby Parkinson, but it only narrowed the Eagles’ lead to 28-21, with minutes remaining in the fourth quarter. They missed repeating their 2021 success when they lifted the Lombardi Trophy.

Months later, McVay finally pinpointed the culprit: “Third and two from the tight red area… we just had a little miscommunication.” Translation? The Rams’ O-line crumbled faster than a rookie’s confidence facing Aaron Donald, letting Eagles rookie Jalen Carter waltz into the backfield twice on back-to-back downs. Oof.

McVay’s been waking up in cold sweats replaying that snowy night at Lincoln Financial Field. Saquon Barkley’s 205-yard rampage? “Haunts me like a TikTok trend,” he admitted. But the real dagger? Matthew Stafford’s fourth-down Hail Mary sailed out-of-bounds like a rogue Uber Eats order. “We were a couple plays away from me being a lot happier,” McVay sighed, channeling The Wire’s Omar Little: “You come at the king, you best not miss.” Except the Rams missed—twice—and Philly’s tush-push dynasty rolled on.

Philly’s DNA is baked in grit—tailgates with cheesesteak grease stains, Barkley’s 78-yard TD sprints, and a fight song older than Gen Z. The Rams? They’re L.A. smooth: celebrity sideline squad (shoutout to Flea’s bass-face), McVay’s “We Not Me” mantra, and a fanbase that swaps jerseys for sunset selfies. Yet both teams share one truth: football’s a “lowest of lows” biz. McVay knows it—his .611 win rate and Super Bowl ring can’t erase January’s sting.

“Everybody finds a way, you know. You look at these—I don’t think anybody would have thought, other than probably Kevin O’Connell and the Vikings, that they would have done what they did this past year. So, there are always challenges; you’ve got to build it the right way, and then there is an element of luck in regard to staying healthy, which we’ve been able to see. And hopefully, we stay healthy as well,” McVay said, reflecting on how unpredictable the NFL can be but how the Rams are confident in their direction for 2025.

The team’s resolve has only grown stronger after last year’s painful loss to the Eagles. McVay knows the window is open for a Super Bowl run. And the foundation is in place, even as they’re rebuilding certain aspects. “We were so close—and in a couple of the things that occurred. Just some miscommunication… We just had a little miscommunication where we were thinking we were getting a TT inside, our center looks to bang it back. And we leave Jalen Carter free two snaps in a row on third and fourth down,” McVay admitted. But despite that setback, McVay remains optimistic for the future: “We’re there, and we can take it.”

Stafford’s gamble: Betting on legacy over loot

But let’s not bury the lede: Stafford’s contract saga is juicier than a Hollywood drama. When asked if the deal’s finalized, McVay shrugged: “It’s semantically done… the ship has sailed.” Translation? Stafford’s rocking a year-to-year “prove it” deal, a move as rare as a quiet Jets offseason. “Not every QB would accept that,” McVay marveled, comparing Stafford’s loyalty to Ted Lasso’s unwavering optimism. The man took a pay cut to keep Cooper Kupp’s ghost on the payroll—now that’s team-first energy.

Let’s break it down: Stafford swapped $100M guarantees elsewhere for a $40M “show me” contract in L.A. Why? “He wants to feel appreciated,” McVay said, sounding like a proud dad at a peewee game. The QB’s playing chess, not checkers—prioritizing legacy (and McVay’s playbook) over cash. Think Tony Stark ditching the suit for a shot at redemption. Even after slinging 324 yds and 2 TDs in that Philly loss, Stafford’s like Succession’s Logan Roy: “I. AM. THE. TEAM.”

Meanwhile, McVay’s juggling cap space like a circus act. Cutting Kupp freed up $15M—RIP to the “F them picks” era—and Stafford’s restructure saved another $12M. The Rams now sit pretty with $44M to play with, enough to lure free agents faster than Philly fans boo Santa. But let’s not forget the tush-push drama! McVay roasted the play’s “rugby scrum” vibe, quipping, “It doesn’t look like football.” Tell that to Jalen Hurts, who’s probably bench-pressing a Prius as we speak.

But here’s the twist: Stafford’s bet on himself mirrors McVay’s gamble back in 2017. A young coach and a rebooted QB? That’s Friday Night Lights meets Ocean’s 11. And while the Rams’ 2025 cap space shines brighter than Inglewood’s SoFi Stadium lights, McVay’s real win is culture. “Our guys represented this city,” he said, referencing their Arizona exile during wildfires. Rams fans? They’ll ride shotgun through hell if it means another Lombardi.

McVay reflected on the unique circumstances last season when the team had to relocate: “We talked about it the other day: ‘Hey, how do we keep you mentally fresh through the offseason, through training camp, through 17 games, and then hopefully we earn the right to be able to play a handful after that?’ That’s going to be one of the goals for us because I did think one of the benefits of why he played so well in the playoffs was being able to get that last week off.” Stafford, who was fine with the team’s year-to-year approach, proved instrumental in leading the Rams to postseason play, despite the odds.

“I know this—we sent it to Jimmy Seon this week—and so I think it’s just semantics. I don’t know if they officially signed that or not, but unless he has a change, it’s semantically done, and it’s a little bit too late now—the ship has sailed,” McVay confirmed about Stafford’s contract situation. The Rams are all in for 2025, and Stafford’s willingness to take a “prove it” contract speaks volumes about his commitment to both his legacy and the team.

So, what’s next? Stafford’s contract ink dries, McVay schemes revenge, and Philly polishes their tush-push crown. But in L.A., hope’s hotter than a Santa Ana wind. As McVay put it: “Every year’s a new year.” And what if Stafford’s arm stays fresh? The Rams might just rewrite this story from tragedy to triumph—no semantic loopholes needed.