June 12, 2025 — marks 31 years since the murders that forever changed the legacy of O.J. Simpson. But long before the white Bronco chase, before Court TV, before the trial of the century, O.J. was almost something else entirely: A Philadelphia Eagle.
In one of the most painful what-ifs in Eagles history at the time, a couple of meaningless wins in a lost 1968 season cost the Birds the No. 1 overall pick in the 1969 NFL Draft and the chance to land a generational superstar.
Instead of Simpson, the Eagles walked away with Leroy Keyes — whooooo? A solid Purdue player who never lived up to expectations. Meanwhile, O.J. went to Buffalo, rewrote rushing records, and eventually became, well, O.J.
We just got a real good look at what a generational talent like Saquon Barkley, who delivered a generational type season, can do to a franchise searching for its identity – a Super Bowl Championship and all the spoils that emminate from an iconic performance, and we’re just talking about one season so far.
So what happens if the Eagles don’t fumble the moment decades earlier?
Let’s walk it out.
The Year Everything Went Sideways
The 1968 Eagles started 0–11. The team was a disaster, fans were furious, and the vibe in Philly was toxic enough to boo Santa Claus off the field and land him a few ice-ball sidewinders to the noggin at Franklin Field – a moment still referenced every holiday season.
Had the Eagles just kept losing, they would have locked up the top pick. That’s it. That’s all they had to do. Just lose baby. It was that simple.
Instead, they won two of their final three games, tanked the tank, and handed the No. 1 pick to the Buffalo Bills.
What the Eagles Missed
O.J. Simpson wasn’t just a top prospect – he was THE prospect. I can’t stress that enough. He wasn’t Reggie Bush or Marcus Allen or Ricky Bell. He was the Juice. Those other guys were very good but none had a one word onomatopoeia-like nickname like O.J. did and there was a reason for that.
He was the total football package – a Heisman winner at USC with Olympic speed, Hollywood charisma and movie star looks and moves.
Buffalo got the buzz. The Birds got a bust.
In Buffalo, Simpson became the first NFL player to rush for over 2,000 yards in a 14-game season. Let’s think about that for a second. Raise your hand if you recall debating whether Saquon Barkley should play in week 18 vs the Giants in order to take a shot at Eric Dickerson’s single season rushing record. Okay oohh, ohhh, call on me! I remember. I also remember thinking it would be cool to see #26 do it but let’s get real – O.J. broke the 2,000 yard barrier in 14 games! That’s unheard of and unheralded, something most likely to never be done again.
Simpson led the league in rushing four times and was the most electrifying runner of the decade. Put that talent in a Philly jersey, and everything changes.
Franklin Field becomes must-see TV. The Eagles have not only a superstar to build around, but one of the most iconic legendary football players to ever grace the planet, let alone Delaware County. The offense gets a face. The franchise gets a future.
How it Could Have Shaped Eagles Lore
Had the Eagles landed O.J., we might’ve seen:
OJ was electric from the jump. He rushed for 1,000+ yards five times, had a 2,003-yard season in 1973, and became the face of the NFL.
Put that production in a football-crazed city like Philly?
Franklin Field becomes Mecca.
The Birds have a true superstar. He’s Bo Jackson meets Allen Iverson with cleats.
The chants, the commercials, the chaos — it would’ve made him a Philly deity.
But… that spotlight would’ve come with Philly scrutiny, too.
Different Coaching, Different Results
The Eagles were floundering under Joe Kuharich and later Jerry Williams. But with O.J.?
You have to change schemes. You have to surround him with talent.
That could’ve accelerated a coaching change and forced front office urgency. Maybe Dick Vermeil comes earlier… maybe the winning culture is exedited.
The 1970s Eagles were forgettable. But add O.J. to a defense led by guys like Bill Bradley and John Bunting, and you might get at least playoff-level contention.
He was that good. But would it have been enough for a title run? Probably not without help. The Bills didn’t win with him either – and they had some talent.
The Legacy Twist
Let’s not ignore the double-homicide in the room:
O.J.’s post-career legacy is not just football.
Would the murders have still happened if his life path led through Philly instead of Hollywood and Buffalo?
Who knows but Philly’s blue-collar toughness may have either grounded him – or crushed him earlier.
And can you imagine the Philly media after the white Bronco chase?
It might’ve changed not just Eagles lore, but national media history. Seriously.
Wait, There’s More
Had the Eagles drafted O.J.:
- He becomes one of the best to ever wear midnight green.
- Philly football lore gets one of the greatest athletes in NFL history.
- The Santa Claus snowball game becomes a footnote, not a symbol.
- The 1970s aren’t a lost decade.
- And maybe, just maybe, the Eagles’ first Super Bowl would’ve come 20 years sooner.
- Faster coaching turnover. Front office pressure to build around a star could have changed leadership sooner, possibly even bringing in a Vermeil-like figure before the late ’70s.
- More competitive seasons in the ’70s. Instead of floundering, O.J. alone may have dragged Philly into playoff contention. The team didn’t lack talent, it lacked a transcendent piece. Fine, okay, they weren’t all that talented but certainly could have built around the Simpson centerpiece.
- A radically different narrative. Instead of being defined by grit and heartbreak for decades, the Eagles might’ve been known for flair and firepower much earlier. An entirely different vibe towards the immediate futrure of Eagles football.
- But in true Philly fashion…they won just enough to lose big.
Would Philly Have Saved O.J.?
Okay, let’s do it. There’s a darker twist here we can’t ignore. O.J would have exuded Holywood and the red caret complete with beautiful models hanging on his arm, sharing space with his Heisman trophy and huge smile, but deep down he still carried the roots of being raise in San Francisco and lived with his family in the housing projects of the low income Potrero Hill neighborhood.
In his early teenage years, Simpson joined a street gang called the Persian Warriors and was briefly incarcerated at the San Francisco Youth Guidance Center.[13] His future wife Marguerite, whom he dated in high school, described him as “really an awful person then.”[15][16] He was arrested three times.[17] After his third arrest, Simpson happened to meet baseball star Willie Mays, who encouraged the youth to avoid trouble. He said it helped persuade him to reform.[11]
It was that darker twist, something he never did shed completley, no matter how famous and how successful he got.
Would life in Philadelphia, blue-collar, demanding and raw have kept O.J. grounded? Or would the same fame, entitlement, and emotional volatility still have played out just under a different skyline?
We’ll never know. But it’s hard to imagine the Philly media letting anything slide.
If the Simpson saga happened in Philadelphia instead of Brentwood, there would’ve been no soft coverage and no Hollywood buffer. Philly would’ve held him accountable from Day One.
The Verdict
The 1968 Eagles blew it. Two meaningless wins cost them one of the most dynamic athletes of the century. They lost an opportunity to let it play out. In fairness Simpson didn’t bring a Super Bowl to Buffalo either, but I’m pretty sure in the football environment around these parts, his chances for epic greatness would have been enhanced.
And even if it didn’t guarantee a Super Bowl, drafting O.J. Simpson would’ve rewritten Eagles lore, NFL history, and maybe even the cultural legacy of one of the most polarizing figures of all time.
Instead, it became one of the greatest “what-ifs” in Philly sports —
a near-miss that still echoes, 56 years later.
