While Philadelphia Inquirer scribe Frank Fitzpatrick is not particularly reknowned as a Mushnick-type scold, this mornings annual WIP610 Wing Bowl appears to have triggered the following salvos fired at Hostile City Phandom in his Morning Bytes column:
Come with me down the rabbit hole to Philadelphia, where, as Alice said, “nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t.”
The “Rocky” statue is art. Slot machines and traffic equal riverfront beautification. And a man (El Wingador) who stuffs fried food into his Tabasco-stained face until he vomits is a restaurateur.
(not El Wingador, but the far more humble Dr. Slob)
Then there are the sports fans.
We believe ourselves to be the epitome of loyal, knowledgeable fans, but in truth are famous for embarrassing ourselves.
Here are three more reasons why Philadelphians are not the world’s greatest fans:
1. The Wing Bowl: If nothing else, this rodeo for the repulsive, this bacchanal for bozos, makes Eagles games appear respectable.
Where else but Philadelphia could organizers fill a major-league arena with drunks and slobs who arrive at dawn to ogle women willing to demean themselves and to watch grotesque adults strive to make themselves puke?
And the more grotesque they are, the more we celebrate them.
El Wingador, one of the event’s ex-champions, has opened a restaurant. That’s like John McEnroe opening an etiquette school. Photos of a drooling El Wingador, his face a Jackson Pollack canvas of condiments and cholesterol, must be quite the appealing appetite aphrodisiac.
2. Donovan McNabb: You’re one of the most talented quarterbacks in football. You’re personable and well-liked in the locker room. You’ve produced perhaps the most successful era in your team’s history.
So, since you play in Philadelphia, what’s your reward?
Constant abuse.
McNabb practically carried the team to three NFC championship games and a Super Bowl. Yet the perpetually whining fans here would have you believe the Eagles would have been better off with Ron Powlus.
Instead of appreciating McNabb’s considerable skills, they prefer to attack his character, his family, his intelligence, his passing ability, his sideline demeanor, his hairstyle, his clothes, his eyewear, his agent, his friends, his postgame comments, his facial expressions and his race.
And if he ever gets enshrined in Canton, they’ll all swear they loved him.
3. The Phillies: To hear Philies fans talk, you’d be convinced the team had lost 100-plus games a season since 1993.
Actually, for five of the last six years, they have contended for a playoff spot. I know, they’ve never won more than 88 games in any of those years. But how many did the world-champion Cardinals win in the 2006 regular season? (83).
All it takes here is one extra-inning loss early in the season and fans start abandoning the bandwagon the way the music-drunk rats fled Bremen.
Those same people complained for years about the Phillies’ lack of talent, then drove one of the franchise’s greats, Bobby Abreu, out of town because they didn’t like his demeanor.
Ooooh, he said you like Powlus! Day-yum!
David- Yeah, the Wing Bowl really set Fitzsimmons off as he exaggerated McNabb criticism (although, if Jeff Garcia is still on the Eagles next season and McNabb doesnt hit the ground running, there will be clamor). Bobby Abreu may have been scapegoated but was hardly “run out of town” as I am certain that Pat Gillick does not consult with Howard Eskin in regards to personnel decisions. As far as El Wingador vomiting, the cardinal rule of the Wing Bowl is “If you heave, you leave”, and to the best of my knowledge, El Wingador has never regurgitated in Wing Bowl competition. The column was notable in that Fitzsimmons is hardly a shit-stirrer and is not prone to angry missives.
That would be Fitzpatrick, not that its a big deal!
Thanks, Dom. Fitzpatrick is usually so low-key that I didnt even remember his last name correctly.
Morning Bytes is basically Fitzpatrick’s regular platform to be a smartass. But he’s also a real sportswriter (such as it is) and he’s not humorless like Phil — though I think his NASCAR cracks stopped being funny the 57th time.