Philadelphia Phillies: The Case for the Philadelphia Boobird

Hey Santa, are you afraid?

You should be.

Those scary Philadelphia fans are on the prowl. The same fans whose guttural noises can cripple a millionaire’s psyche. Just ask Cole Hamels, who was so distraught by the boos during his opening start that he was moved to say this:

“If you get that response, it’s the understanding that people expect you to do well, and when you don’t, they’re disappointed”

Wait, what? He should be in a daze. 

How on earth could he have overcome the sheer outpouring of vitriol aimed his way? It’s because this isn’t his first rodeo.

In a world where barely a week goes by without a clever journalist making a reference connecting booing and the city of Philadelphia, Hamels gets it. Phillies fans expect the world of him. John, the electrician from Fishtown, paid a lot of money to take his kids to the game and he wants to see a couple of scoreless frames. 

Nothing compares to the expectations that the majority of star athletes put on themselves.

Sure, there are exceptions. Manny, I’m looking at you. However, the majority of jocks want to perform their best every time they put on the uniform. So why shouldn’t the fans expect their best?

The Boo. It’s the over-hyped, over-analyzed, ESPN-headlining sound that out-of-town journalists sitting in the Philadelphia press boxes wait for.

Here they go again. Those disgraceful Philadelphia fans are booing another star player. 

Meanwhile, Dodgers fans beat and stab opposing fans who have the gall to wear their teams’ colors into Dodger Stadium.

Most Philadelphia fans have been told since they were young that they boo more than any other fanbase in the country. So naturally, they feel the need to over-compensate when a player goes out and produces a dud performance. Whether we like it or not, booing has become a part of the Philadelphia fan culture.

Sometimes the outsiders just don’t get it.

Donovan McNabb, Bobby Abreu, Eric Lindros—we booed because we didn’t think they cared. Allen Iverson left it all out on the floor. He never left you wondering if he had given his all that night. The aforementioned group did. Whether perception is reality is a wholly separate argument. 

The Boo is feared by the overly sensitive star but ignored by the grizzled veteran. It’s a singular expression of disgust. It comes in bunches, but is seldom heard in Citizen Bank Park, at least by Philadelphia standards. It’s the only way for fans to let their favorite player know they don’t appreciate their efforts.

Don’t expect A-Rod to come out by the players’ entrance and listen to each fan’s gripes about his playoff performance. The time when athletes were easily accessible is over. Now all we can do when Jimmy Rollins doesn’t leg out an infield grounder is let him hear it on the way back in.

Besides, he can take it. Even if Donovan couldn’t.

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Philadelphia Phillies 2011: Are We Becoming “Those” Fans?

Sitting in the friendly confines of Veterans stadium on a drizzly and cold September day in 2003, the battle-cry rang out through the near-empty venue.

“GO SOX! Atta’ boy, Nomaaa!”

You could see the disdain wash over the already grumpy, but devoted Phillies fans who were holding tough through yet another mediocre season. They were still the lovable tough-luck Red Sox fans, but in a little over one year, they would transform into “those” fans. You know who they are. The ones whose memorabilia collection rises and falls with the team’s wins and losses. The ones who give you a bad name.

On the whole, Phillies fans are wonderful. Please don’t think I’m blanketing the whole of the fan base with these statements. However, recently more and more new fans are puking and tazing their way to a bad reputation for us all. They’re the ones who pop up as our representatives on the national news. They’re “those” fans. The ones that other cities love to hate. The cocky, unapologetic jerks who dare you to say a negative word about their team.

Who are these people? Where were they when Francona and Bowa were sleep-walking their way through season after season?

They’ve been spoiled, but it’s really a shame. They’ve missed out on so much. They’ll never know the legendary exploits of Ron Gant, Rico Brogna or Mickey Morandini. They’ll remember Lenny Dykstra as a wacky, failed businessman who pals around with Charlie Sheen rather than the enigmatic, juiced-up spark plug that roamed the chaw stained turf of the Vet. Who could blame them? These are special times. We’ve all lived and died with the team. The recent years seem to be karma for the miserable late 90’s, but those years built character. Along the way, we learned to never take it for granted. That’s what separates the die-hards from the new kids in town.

This team has made Philly a baseball town again, and that’s admirable. The new influx of fans has been great for the city, and when the teams are winning, this is an amazing place to live. We deserve this new winning attitude. No, we’re not “Red Sox Nation,” but we don’t want to be. We’re the guys who miss Harry AND Whitey. We’re the guys who worried about Scott Rolen’s back problems. We’re the ones who hope you all stick around for the long haul. If you aren’t? Well, that’s fine. We’ll be waiting to welcome you back with open arms. You’ll know where to find us, we’ve been sitting in the same spot for the last 20 years.

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