Root of all evil
When Boston, Philly fans rub others wrong, they’re doing it right
WE’LL start with a basic, irrefutable truth: If yours is a fan base that doesn’t anger, annoy, infuriate, irritate, incense, enrage, exasperate, agitate, offend, provoke or generally tick any other fans off … well, then something’s dreadfully wrong. Either your teams are too awful, your city is too dull, or you’re — yikes — too nice. So we’ll start here, in New York. We’re everything we like to think best about ourselves: passionate, zealous, fervent, loyal, outspoken, smart, sophisticated (that’s a favorite one, especially among Knicks fans), loud and opinionated. And, also we are everything that everyone else likes to think worst about us, which mostly includes the same list, plus: arrogant, conceited, condescending. g
To which we generally plead, by acclimation: guilty on all counts.
It’s really the same thing in Boston and in Philadelphia, two cities that care every bit as much about their teams as we do. They just happen to have teams that, right now anyway, are heading to the Super Bowl. And so we see them. And we hear them. And they seem to be everywhere.
And it’s all you can do not to jam a pencil in your eye.
But we are a fair city, so I sought the counsel of two friends who know the souls and the heartbeats of those two cities as well as anyone. Bob Ryan first moved to Boston as a freshman at Boston College in the fall of 1964, and has worked for the Boston Globe with periodic exception since starting as an intern in 1968. Mike Sielski was raised in Glenside, Pa., less than 20 miles north of Philadelphia’s sports complexes, he went to La Salle, he’s a columnist now at the Philadelphia Inquirer.
Both know well the deep feelings that reside in their neighbors’ and their readers’ bloodstreams. And both have heard plenty from the dark underbelly, too.
“The greatness of Philadelphia fans lies in their passion,” Sielski says. “They care so damn much. Sports is woven into our collective DNA. It is the thing that unites all of us in a way that New York, because of its diversity and transplants, can’t be united by sports. Sports is the thing that gives us pride. Philly fans know their history. They have long memories.”
Ryan’s Boston had long been a place that, he says, knew “both ultimate symbols of excellence and symbols of futility” in the decades before the dawn of this century.
“At the same time the Red Sox’s drought had fans feeling sorry for themselves — especially in ’46, ’67, ’75 and the pinnacle of it all, 1986 — the Celtics were still the Celtics,” Ryan says. “The Patriots were a decent AFL team, but nothing special. They had a great team in ’76, but went to Oakland and basically got jobbed by the referees. And the Bruins were always important.” He laughs. “And then the 21st Century happened.”
The Patriots have their five Super Bowls (and counting). The Red Sox broke their drought, and have won three World Series. The Bruins and Celtics have each won once, and the C’s seem primed to add a few more banners soon. And thus was introduced something nobody ever saw coming: Boston Fatigue. In massive doses.
“Think about being a 20-year-old Boston fan,” Ryan says. “So yes, there’s a little entitlement among the faithful. But honestly, I think people here are reasonably grateful. Honestly, I don’t think fans anywhere else would ever be properly grateful.
“But when it comes to the Pats, it’s different. Over the years the dialogue flipped, they started out a beloved team running out of the tunnel as a team, but then Spygate happened, and everyone hates their coach, and they have grown very defensive. Look, usually it’s a team that’s defensive, not a fandom. But that’s the hand they’ve been dealt.”
Sielski’s Philly fans have fanned an entirely different set of cards, having only the Phillies’ 2008 title to savor in the past 35 years. They know how outsiders view them, and most of them cringe when they see dopes like the bloody shirtless guy who punched the horse on Sunday — just ponder those last eight words.
“One could argue — and I have — that Philly fans care ‘too’ much,” Sielski says. “That they often create an environment that is counterproductive for their home teams and athletes, through their booing and their demands for ‘toughness.’ They can be myopic and too parochial.” But there’s a flip side to that, too. “They demand work ethic and greatness to a degree unmatched even in some of the country’s biggest metro markets,” he says. “The Cubs never could have gotten away with being lovable losers as long as they did. Maybe they would have been losers in Philly, too, but the fans there would have raised holy hell.”
So there’s your scorecard. Maybe this makes you feel better about your fellow man in Philadelphia, or in Boston. Though I doubt it. Which is probably the highest compliment you can pay either city.