Destiny, she's a fickle little lady.

Just Sunday morning she was gallivanting around town with Brett Favre and the Green Bay Packers. She left, all smiles just hours later, on the arm of Donovan McNabb, as the newest groupie of the Philadelphia Eagles.

You've got to wonder why she ever left the Packers. Mr. Favre had been showing her a grand old time: in week 16, just a day after his father died, Favre, surely one of the best ever, threw for 399 yards and four touchdowns against Oakland. A week later, while the Packers dismantled the Broncos in what they thought was a meaningless game, Destiny detoured and visited the Arizona Cardinals, allowing them to beat the Minnesota Vikings and propel the Packers into the playoffs.

This all, you must understand, was meant to be. It was divined by Destiny. How else to explain Matt Hasselbeck's contentious pronunciation, after winning the coin-flip to open overtime in the opening round of the playoffs, that his Seahawks would take the ball and immediately score? Of course that didn't happen, not without Destiny on his side. Hasslebeck threw the ball to Al Harris, who ran it back for a touchdown and a Green Bay win.

This was a whirlwind romance, you see, this coupling of Destiny and the Packers. Arisen out of despair and death, it overcame so much to bloom.

But did you see how it ended? The best romances, of course, make for the worst goodbyes. Losing this love takes every feeling you've ever had and simply erases it. There is no breaking, no crushing, no shattering. Just emptiness.

You saw it end. Overtime. Brett Favre drops back and sees two blitzers closing in.

Over on the Eagles sideline, Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb was handing Destiny roses, wooing and courting.

And winning.

Because as Favre, Mr. Guts and Glory himself, saw those blitzers, he made what has to be considered the strangest play of his storied career: he simply heaved the ball toward heaven, and it landed in the hands of Brian Dawkins, an Eagles safety.

Destiny left the Packers. Despair waltzed in.

Favre's eyes, when the cameras zoomed in as he walked off the field, were the windows to his heart.

For just the third time in his career, Favre left the locker room before speaking with reporters. Probably because no words would come. How to express utter emptiness? What describes the barren wasteland of love lost?

Better not to dwell on it, if, unlike Favre, you don't have to.

Destiny, that lustrous lover of the good things in life, is now royally riding with the Philadelphia Eagles.

How else to explain the third straight trip to the NFC Championship in this era of one-and-done runs brought about by unparalleled parity?

So maybe Andy Reid has quietly become the best coach in all of football. And yes, Donovan McNabb combines quick feet and a quick release with a quick mind.

Sure the system works without superstars, can overcome the loss of three great players (Troy Vincent, Carlos Emmons and Brian Westbrook) and still work.

None of that is really the key to what happens next. It's all in the hands of Destiny now.

Maybe she'll pull McNabb aside for that long kiss, expressing her undying love.

Or maybe she'll skip town on the arm of Jake Delhomme, the Carolina Panthers quarterback.

Oh, wait. Jake (expletive) Delhomme? Forget that. Eagles are going to the Super Bowl.