Phillies Phanatics

Believe it or not, when I moved to Philadelphia about four months ago I was actually looking forward to joining the ranks of the city’s die-hard sports fans. If you’re reading this, you probably know me enough to know that I’ve never been into watching team sports and I don’t have any connection to Philadelphia other than the fact that I call it home now. But I had heard how much sports mattered to so many people across the region and I thought it might be fun to share in that part of Philadelphia’s identity.

Pretty good timing that I moved here just as the Phillies were on their way to winning the World Series for the first time in 28 years. I have to say, it was pretty energizing to watch the final game in an Olde City bar with hundreds of cheering fans decked out in Phillies red. I didn’t understand all the plays and I still struggle to understand how people get so emotionally distressed from watching a game. I mean, seriously, it is just a game – not a presidential election, nor a matter of life or death.

That said, I was glad to be a part of the shared excitement. It was great to see strangers hugging and clapping each other on the back after each home run. After the team won, we high-fived passerby out the window of the cab that took us to City Hall. It really was the “City of Brotherly Love.”

On Broad Street, I cheered along with everyone else as revelers chugged beer, dropped confetti from high-rises and sprayed champagne over the crowd. Someone tossed up a balloon made from a condom. One guy barreled through the sea of people with a floor lamp. Not sure what that was about.

Then, the merrymaking began to shift to destruction. Someone triumphantly broke off a piece of a traffic light. Dozens of people climbed onto a fire truck and hung on even when the truck resumed moving. Drunken teenagers climbed signposts to pull down World Series banners. I was sure I was going to watch someone take a nasty fall. Fireworks exploded from the middle of the crowd. A group of people knocked over a planter. Others ran by with shrubs they’d uprooted and branches they’d broken off of nearby trees. Three boys began shaking a small tree in a concrete planter as the crowd egged them on.

At that point, my mood soured. I can relate to drunken stupidity, I’ve been there myself. Thankfully, I’ve never been idiotic enough to put my life in danger by climbing a moving vehicle or a wobbly sign post. If other people choose to do that, at least theoretically they’re not going to endanger me if they hurt themselves. But ripping up city property, and worse, nature? That burned me. Why in the world would people celebrate their beloved sports team by literally destroying property they paid for with their own tax dollars?

I was relieved to see two men break up the attempt to tear down the tree. I had worried that I was the only one who found this completely abominable. Of course, a few minutes after the men left, another group of zealous jerks hopped up and began shaking the tree. I was so furious that I climbed onto the planter and tried to tug them away. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t a good idea to do that, but I figured they wouldn’t have the guts to hit a woman. Who knows if they were simply surprised at my passionate outburst or feared that others would join me in ganging up against them, but they left.

I stood in front of the tree, no longer feeling celebratory. Then, another guy jumped up and grabbed the branches that extended over me. “Let’s take down the tree!” he crowed, swinging his full weight against its trunk. I tried to push him away, partly because he was rushing right at me. At first, he seemed too drunk to realize that I was trying to stop him instead of help him. He persisted, so I made a fist and aimed for his crotch. Stunned, he stopped and looked at me.

Finally, I thought I had made my point. But my victory was short lived. I watched the melee from my guard post until yet another brilliant party-goer scaled the tree from behind me, ignoring my protests that it was too small to support his weight.

I wanted to stay there and fight it out for this tree, even though I knew it was futile. But Seth was afraid the climber would fall on me and didn’t want to risk being around if things got even more out of hand.

Here’s a link to a YouTube video someone edited together – it gives you a good picture of what I saw. I don’t believe the tree shown in this video was the one I was trying to protect, but it’s hard to tell. There were several planted along the street.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8paEERBNmk]

Later, we learned that the mob had also overturned cars, commandeered a news vehicle, thrown bottles at police officers, broken into a furniture store and even set trees on fire. Seth told me that major game wins have caused bigger problems in other cities. I don’t doubt that after what I saw Wednesday night. That doesn’t make me any less disgusted, though. It’s too bad that a couple hundred unruly fans spoiled my first impression of Philly sports celebrations. I’m sure that there are thousands of other fans who are more respectful of their city and each other, but I certainly won’t be so eager to jump into the jubilance next time.