Cheering into the Wind

By Tim McManus

We were reminded again on Monday night that the national media just doesn't get it. Even worse, they're not trying to.

In what can only be described as lazy journalism, ESPN rolled out ol' faithful during their pregame show -- a segment on the mistreatment of the scab Santa Claus back in 1968.

The message, as always -- Philadelphia fans are cold-blooded malcontents, quick to ridicule and late to embrace.

It is a convenient, poorly researched profiling that grows in legend with each boo or battery that is slung.

And if extra ammo is needed, there is a cache of quotes to back the notion up:

"I told him, 'I want you to try and remember you're coming here for these coaches. Don't come here for these fans. Because I hate these fans. I've been here all my life, and I hate them all.' "

-- Former Temple Owls coach John Chaney, giving advice to then free agent Jon Runyan

"On fan appreciation day, they slashed my tires."

-- Former Phillies manager Terry Francona

"The rudest fans in the country reside, of course, in Philadelphia. Not all Philly fans are rude, but there you get some real dum-dums.

Their sole purpose is to make your life unbearable, and the funny thing is they wear it like a badge of honor: 'Hey, this is a tough town. We boo Santa Claus.' Well, congratulations.

New York and Boston can be tough, but the fans there are knowledgeable."

-- Former Phillies reliever Todd Jones

Jones wasn't good for much here, but at least he combined all the Philly stereotypes and rolled them out in just a few succinct paragraphs.

Rude...unknowledgeable...intent on torturing their own...

New York will call for an athlete's head if he's caught relaxing in a park during his off time, and Boston believed that its strife stemmed from the metaphysical, but Philly's the country's most harsh/irrational town?

Cities like Atlanta can't even draw a good postseason crowd, and you're going to come down on this fan base?

Nevermind. It's fruitless. Continue with said portrayal. Role the tired clip.

But stick around long enough to watch what happens when the credits end and reality begins.

A beaten, weary fan base 23 years in waiting packs the Linc to watch a 5-6 team led by a backup quarterback and an aging defense on a brisk December night. Upon the slightest hint of hope, they shed their shield and galvanize. They push and they will and they sway the direction of the game. Just give us half effort, we'll do the heavy lifting.

Afterwards, the media points to the booing when A.J. Feeley is denied entrance.

A few weeks prior, the fans literally swayed the foundation of the stadium during the Eagles' win over Dallas, leaving many of the players amazed at the impact that the crowd can have. Other veterans have come to expect it.

"They were tremendous and I knew they were going to be that way," Brian Dawkins said. "There was no doubt in my mind that they were drinking hot tea with lemon, saving their voices for today. They came out and acted a fool and we fed off of it. The D line got great jumps off the ball. A lot of the defenses sacks were results of the crowd noise and frenzy. We could barely make checks out there defensively because we couldn't hear each other and that is a great thing."

During their next home game, a fateful 13-6 loss to Jacksonville, Andy Reid was overheard screaming at his team to not rely on the crowd for help. Where else do you hear that?

Philadelphia fans are ferocious, and as competitive as any player that has performed in front of them. The majority take out their frustration on talk-show phone lines and in local bars and of course vocalize it in-game; the very few, and on rare occassion, take it beyond that.

And they are tough on their own. They hang their hat on a select few who they feel are the key to bringing in a championship. They know whether that person is doing enough to make it happen. If he is, they cheer; If he's not, they boo.

If it was personal or simply a rabid reaction, why would they adopt these players as family once their careers were over?

Yes, it can come off as unjust, as evidenced in the career of Mike Schmidt. He was likely the best third baseman of all time, and was subject to negative feedback for much of his career. And, like many before and after him, he spoke out against a fan base that is tough to understand and even tougher to get along with.

Here, though, is what he said in his tribute night speech:

"I want to tell you straight from the heart, how I feel about you and your influence on this game. As athletes, we're disciplined, we're focused, we're even tough. But I know of no athlete who is immune to fan reaction, positive or negative. Yes, you fans affect the game in a 'big' way. Calling Philadelphia fans spectators hardly describes your impact. You help mold the spirit of a team. Your positive feedback is crucial in the Phillies' right to stay on top.

"You know, I'm often asked what I miss most about the game. It's tough to sort out all the wonderful memories and come up with a definite answer. But I can tell you this; I'll always miss the goose bumps I got when you cheered me. I've collected eighteen years of those goose bumps, from my first hit back in 1972 to the welcome you gave me tonight. To right now. That feeling can never be recreated, but that feeling will always be remembered.

"My dreams started on a small playground near my home where I first learned how to hold a bat. My dreams came true here on this field. This game - baseball - is rich with strategy, talent, challenge, excitement and yes, tradition. But most of all, this game of baseball creates a bond - an indescribable bond, a bond that brings all of us together. All of us, not only teams but, families, friends, communities and, yes, even countries. At this very moment, I feel that bond and it will always be with me. I don't know where life will lead. but the Phillies and Philadelphia will forever hold a very special place in my heart."

In the end, he got it. Let's just hope the rest of you aren't that far behind.