On a moonless night, with All Hallows' Eve nigh, for the 31st, and last, time, Veterans Stadium was bathed in the bright lights and blood lust of Monday Night Football.

The old girl has been the object of derision for some time now, and her successor rises up imposingly right next door, but the Vet, mausoleum though it may be, actually looked pretty good all gussied up last night, especially from up in the blimp, where you can't see all the warts.

And she went out in style.

Down on the field, the Eagles and Giants got themselves locked up in another one of those snarling pit-bulls-chained-together scrums they seem to have such a fondness for, all full of running-mouth yapping and lusty hits and more concussions than points.

This was a game you could hear from a long way away, like rolling thunder.

Their dislike of each other is not only mutual, but genuine and deep as well. So you assume they will be on MNF again next year. They make for good theater.

The Eagles, who play so well coming off a loss, also tend to play not so well coming off a big win, which is what they had enjoyed last week in a physical punishment of Tampa Bay.

This time, the Birds followed up a big win with another one. That is significant in their maturation process.

This win was both satisfying and impressive.

It is a win that not only improved their record to 5-2 and solidified their grip on first place in the NFC East, but also reinforced their ability to win a saloon brawl of a game.

For all their emphasis on finesse and the forward pass, the Birds won this game with the oldest, most elemental strategy in football: Blow the other team off the line of scrimmage and run the ball right through the ear holes of their helmets.

Oh, yes, it also helps immeasurably if you have a quarterback who is a more accomplished and deceptive running back than most running backs.

Take a bow, Donovan McNabb.

He ran for a buck-eleven. The Giants never could keep track of him.

The first surprise of the evening occurred when the Eagles had the ball. They ran with it. Now in many venues, this is not a revolutionary concept, this propelling of the ball down the field while it (the ball, not the field) is in the embrace of a running back.

But in Birds Land, the preferred mode of transportation is by spiral. Andy Reid is a self-confessed "pass guy."

Last night, he metamorphosed into a "run guy."

The Birds ran early and often, and to great profit. They dusted off one of the hoariest plays in the game, the power sweep, known to earlier generations as Student Body Left and Student Body Right. The interior linemen get to pull and go huffing around the corner, lining up tiny little cornerbacks in their crosshairs, and the running back has the comfort of following a convoy of dancing bears.

Linemen, weary of backing up and sparring on pass play after pass play, love being able to squash someone. In almost no time, the Eagles had four backs with runs of 15 yards or more.

Alarmingly, however, for all of this success, they weren't able to convert any of the yardage into touchdowns.

The Birds wasted the first big play of the game, another one of those harrowing escapes by McNabb, who caught the Giants' secondary in full retreat, backs turned, concentrating on defending against the long pass. McNabb chugged 38 yards, down to the Giants' 26, before the posse could rope him.

But Tra Thomas, the Birds' left tackle, who is roughly the size of Rhode Island, twitched just a bit before the snap - and when a 350-pound man twitches, it tends to register on seismographs. After that illegal-motion penalty, the Birds stalled and sent out David Akers, whose left foot has been solid gold.

But he lost his Midas touch. From 50 yards, Akers missed, the kick drifting to the right, his first failure of the year ending a streak that had reached 18 in a row.

Their very next possession, the Birds reached the Giants' 9. But again, no touchdown. Akers was good from short range this time. Still, two excursions deep into Giants territory but only a field goal to show for it.

Those tend to be the sort of squandered opportunities that last for a long, rueful time.

There followed a third penetration, a third stall, and a second field goal. The Giants made one of their own, and the game had become one of those nasty little slugathons, tight and tense and probably going to be decided by one big play at the end.

There was also an acceleration of conversation. When Brian Mitchell returned the opening kickoff 24 yards, 8 more than was necessary to get him to 21,000 net yards, a figure achieved only by Walter Payton and Jerry Rice, Mitchell lingered to chat with the Giants. Three of them. Mitchell was last to leave. Mitchell is a self-admitted yapper.

Soon after, the Giants' tight end, Jeremy Shockey, was flagged for taunting. Shockey had earned a measure of enmity when he appeared on New York radio and suggested the Eagles' secondary was on the fraudulent side. Needless to say, he became a quick favorite of the Vet faithful, who serenaded him with a ribald chorus.

The Birds launched yet another drive. And stalled yet again. And Akers kicked his third field goal. And there was this gathering sense of foreboding - all those chances, but no touchdown. The Giants were being thoroughly outplayed, yet at the half trailed by only 9-3.

What was going to be the Giants' first touchdown became a touchback instead when, just short of the end zone, safety Blaine Bishop rocketed into Giants fullback Charles Stackhouse and raked the ball loose. It was the first turnover of the game, and it was one of those plays on which an entire season can swing.

Meanwhile, inexplicably, the Eagles abandoned the run. They had gouged out a staggering 195 yards rushing in the first half alone, yet in the third quarter tried only two runs.

It took 491/2 minutes for the first touchdown to be recorded, and that was on a run, a 40-yard improvisation by McNabb, who once again caught the defensive backs with their backs turned, chasing receivers down the field. By the time they looked back, it was too late. McNabb's fleetness of foot always seems to catch other teams by surprise.

It will almost certainly continue to be that way.

Contact Bill Lyon at 215-854-5508 or blyon@phillynews.com.