Unless you’re one of the people whose car got turned over in the irrational urban exuberance following the Phillies’ World Series win on Wednesday night or stood helplessly on the platform as train after packed train rattled through your suburban station without stopping on Friday morning because of the immense victory parade downtown, you’re probably feeling pretty chuff about the city of Philadelphia right now.
In fact, there is an outpouring of warm-and-fuzzy stories about the City of Disorderly Love and its suddenly bright future in the wake of the first championship by one of its long suffering professional sports team since 1983. This one, written by Alex Schmidt, a transplanted Los Angeles resident, is typical.
Schmidt notes that residents know their letter carriers’ names, talk to each other at the drop of a soft pretzel (wid mustard) and that the newish mayor is impressive. He also is correct that Philly never would be mistaken for L.A., which looks big from the outside and is even bigger inside, while his adopted city looks big on the outside but on the inside is a crazy quilt of neighborhoods that are easy to get around.
While Schmidt gets points for charming naivete, I cannot help but offer this rejoinder to him and the rose-colored glasses crowd:
Yo, my man! Not so frickin’ fast there.
While the Series win feels like a big shot of civic adrenalin, Schmidt would have no way of knowing that the Phillies last (and only) World Championship did not result in a civic renaissance.
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