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The following is an article posted in the Charolette Observer that a friend in North Carolina sent to me yesterday in an email. I could not verify it since you are required to log on and I was to lazy to do so. Since I am aware that there are many here from the Philly area, I include it for your amusement.
Posted on Tue, Jan. 20, 2004
COMMENTARY
Philly fans let the bad apples ruin the bunch
TOM SORENSEN
PHILADELPHIA - When their team loses, some people look at the sky and blame the Sports God. There is no Sports God. There is only a Sports Deity.
He is not affiliated with a particular religion. He works free-lance. His role is to favor those who deserve it and punish those who don't.
This explains why Philadelphia never wins anything.
Philadelphia doesn't deserve a championship in any of the major sports or hockey. I keep hearing about the long-suffering fans who give their hearts and souls to their team, and I kind of feel for them.
But the good fans allowed the bad fans to turn the Carolina Panthers' lopsided 14-3 victory at Lincoln Financial Field into White Trash on Sunday night.
I don't like to stereotype. Not every fan at the NFC championship was bitter. Perhaps no more than one in five was.
My wife, Sharon, sat with three other Panthers fans in a $105 (face value) seat. She had entire cups of beer thrown at her. Fans spit on her. And the only manifestation of her allegiance was her toes, which were painted blue and black and covered with layers of socks, foot-warmers and shoes.
Behind her sat a man who dared wear a Panthers cap. Before the game, an Eagles fan asked him what right he had to be at the stadium. The fan was serious.
Late in the game, a guy who had been taunting the Carolina fans, a skinny guy, hopped the security fence he had been standing behind, sprinted down the stairs, slapped the man in the Panthers cap in the back of the head and sprinted back up the stairs. It was a classic hit and run, something with which to amuse friends and family for years. Wait until the guy's parents find out.
So what you're telling me, son, is that you ran up, whacked him and ran off? We always knew you'd amount to something. The only thing that would make us prouder would be if you stopped spending your money, ours actually, on all things Eagles and get a job and perhaps an apartment.
The idea presumably was to entice the Panthers fan to chase the guy back over the fence, where friends waited. Security men tackled the whack-and-run guy before he could return to his seat.
Two Eagles fans in front of my wife fought each other. One of the guys was huge. To break up the fight, as many as seven security officials and police officers and a can of mace were required. To put this in perspective, Carolina running back DeShaun Foster did not break seven tackles on his 1-yard touchdown run.
Christy Burton, who is married to Carolina defensive tackle Shane Burton, sat near my wife. Burton is 6-foot-6 and 305 pounds. Christy is not. She, too, was treated to a shower of beer.
Fans above them threw quarters. The scariest incident was when a 10-year-old kid was hit from behind with a cup. Cups don't hurt much, but who knew what would be thrown next? Plus, kids lucky enough to have a ticket ought to have the right to feel safe.
It's fine to get your kicks vicariously through a team. But at some point you have to step back and, even though your heart might be broken, move on. If your team is the most important thing in your life, you might think about starting over.
You can lose yourself in Carolina's Super Bowl run, think about it every hour of every day. Charlotte has never buzzed and hummed like this. But if the Panthers lose, it doesn't mean the New England fan two rows in front of you no longer is entitled to wear his team's jersey.
Most of the fans at the Linc Sunday night were able to cheer for the Eagles without throwing beer or head-slaps at those who did not. Some even apologized for the behavior of the bottom-feeders, and went so far as to wish Panthers fans luck in the Super Bowl.
The bottom-feeders, meanwhile, were forced to return to their nasty little world without a football team to help them escape it.
There's a term for their predicament. It's called justice. Blame the Sports Deity. Or thank him. Tom Sorensen
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