More Than a Pheeling—Why This Philly Fan Needs a Champion

It's been one week since we last geared up for a playoff game. It's been almost four years since a Philadelphia team was in a game with a title hanging in the balance.

The beauty of a playoff series is that each team is never counted out of it until that last inning, period, or quarter of a clinching game.

There's a buildup with each game of that final series. When the Eagles made it to Super Bowl XXXIX, that was it—four quarters to decide a whole season.

I had been on the high wave of emotion—as had many Eagles fans—that season. And it crashed down and pummelled me into the ground in four short hours.

The drinking didn't help things, but losing that game crushed me in a way I didn't expect.

I sobbed outside the place we watched the game for a good 20 minutes.

Absolutely lost all control of emotion.

And I did not care.

Why would a sporting event cause me such misery and sadness? I didn't play the game, I didn't work for the team, and I didn't have any family on the team.

But I wept, and I did not care.

Media members and other fans alike love to paint the stereotypical portrait of a Philly fan.

If you want a fun drinking game, take a swig every time the game broadcast mentions snowballs, Santa, batteries, or booing.

Drink twice every time the Rocky theme is played.

But do they ever bother to write about what causes us to be so passionate? Not from what I read.

I watch Michael Wilbon jab us for being whiners about not having a title since 1983. I can't tell if he's still licking his wounds over the Cubs or if he just can't grasp why we need a title.

I was three years old when Doctor J and the Sixers went fo'-five-fo' to win the title. It was also the same year my parents divorced. Like many others of this "Internet generation," I have no memory of what it feels like for a team from my hometown to be a champion.

Unless you're in Cleveland, Buffalo, or Seattle, it's unlikely other fans can grasp how long a time that is without any title.

When you throw in Philly also having the fourth sport—yes, hockey is still the fourth sport, especially in Philadelphia—it makes the pain worse, given how much the Flyers have been a part of the city's history.

The only thing worse than investing in the stock market lately is investing in the dream of a world championship for Philadelphia.

But, here I am, ready to sink all of my 401k into the Phillies.

The scars of the Super Bowl loss may not be fully healed, but this team has allowed me to dream again, letting me think back to the days of wanting to be like Mike Schmidt during little league games.

My parents gave us a bottle of champagne as part of our engagement gift two years ago. It still sits unopened, waiting for a special occasion.

No matter what happens over the next week, I think it's time to open it.

A toast to my wife, for agreeing to share—and put up with—my pains and joy in everything we do together, and not just during the sports year.

And to the Phillies, win or lose, for letting this fan feel true excitement again about his team and his city.