by DMtShooter, Five Tool Tool
The home of the Philadelphia Flyers and Sixers (in that the place was owned by the Flyers' owner, and the Sixers were always second-class citizens), as well as a million treble-tastic concerts, is being torn down to make way for shops, restaurants, and the destruction of any illusion that I'm not older than dirt. Here's a list of what I will miss most about the old barn.
10. Noise. When the new building was constructed, it became apparent (just as when the Eagles left the Vet for Lincoln Financial) that something great and intimidating had been lost. Whether it was the fact that people who would cheer like their lives depended on it had been priced out of the building, or that the new building was too large and sterile and absorbed anything the crowd could throw at it... well, some from Column A, and some from Column B. All I know is that with the exception of the 2000 AI Sixers run that utterly captivated the town and made everyone scream like lunatics to overwhelm any building, the local team has never really had a similar home-court advantage again. (And even that team lost all three games at home in the Finals.)
9. Lax security. In my '20s, I lived in a terrible part of Philadelphia, and lived as a borderline homeless person. My mom, upon seeing the place for the first time, handed me her stun gun, which I put in my backpack and more or less forgot about. (Later on, I got a shotgun. Woo hoo!)
When I'd go to Sixers games ($10 tickets, up high, during the Highly Available Shawn Bradley / Doug Moe Era), I'd bike down from work and carry the same pack as always... and was never checked for the weapon.
Which means that I had the ability, albeit from more than a considerable distance, to work my way down to the floor and, possibly, electrocute Armon Gilliam and/or Tim Perry.
You young'uns, remember, it's the opportunities that you don't take in life that you regret...
8. The Ring Of Fire. Adding to the no checking backpacks policy, the third level at the 'Rectum was usually lightly patrolled by security. So it's not overstating the case to say that you could get a serious contact high from being up there. Those clouds of smoke weren't always from pyrotechnics.
7. Tinnitus. When I tell you the sound was bad in that place, I mean it was NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. It's done wonders for my marriage!
6. Utility. There's something mildly appealing, on some silly level, to being in the same seat for different events (provided it's an indoor thing, and the arena is used for the more or less identical floor surface). No one complains, for instance, that Madison Square Garden is used for different purposes, or that the old Boston Garden had a pipe organ in the rafters. You could always point to some remote corner of the building that hadn't been visited by a soul since the last time Michael Jordan was in town, and say, "I sat there for Rush, dude." (OK, it was actually Yes. I hate myself.)
5. Location. You could walk, if you were brave and limber enough, to some good South Philly joints from the place -- and since they were a good mile away, you also had a reasonable shot at getting seats pre or post game. Add that to the easy freeway access, reasonable public transportation options, and bikable proximity to my old hovel, and you had an arena that felt more like a magical neighborhood haunt. Plus, since all of the teams are/were contained to the same zip code, there was a certain kind of electricity to just be in the area. (This, somehow, doesn't seem to be the case anymore. Perhaps because the seats are 4X as expensive as they used to be. Anyway, moving on.)
4. (Relative) Affordability. This probably had more to do with the lack of hold that pro basketball had over college ball in town (the cognoscenti will still rather go to the Palestra, and they are right to prefer that place). So you could get high center court seats for less than you'd spend on concessions. Yes, folks, I'm so old that I remember when going out to see a pro sports team didn't cost much more than the movies. Come, little girl, sit on my knee and take some clothes off. You're making me hot just looking at you.
3. Aggressively bad concessions. Look, stadium concessions *should* suck. When they don't, you're just going to eat and spend yourself stupid. At the old 'Rectum, you got the same bad dogs and over-iced soda as you would at the Vet, and if you didn't like what was being served at this stand, you could always go over to the next one and get... the same damned thing. Kept your mind on the game, it did.
2. Public transportation. Affordable games provoke people using affordable transportation, and in my time, that was the highly doubted Broad Street Line. Painted in day-glo '70s orange and populated by the same liquored up people who had just snarled their way through a heart-breaking loss, it provided dinner and a show, as it were. Would the guy who jumped the turnstile provide more fireworks? How about that homeless guy that smells like a restroom? See the effect that they are having on the terrified people from the suburbs who will never take this train again... but don't make eye contact yourself, or you'll be part of the drama. Some nights, it was better than the game, really. (And yet another reason to take the bike.)
1. Dreams. Like a kid growing up with an alcoholic parent who loved it when Dad got silly and never connected the dots to the other problems, the Spectrum warped the young minds that went into it and blinded us to its flaws. We saw only the meaningful games and life-changing events that happened there, and scarcely realized that these memories could happen in any other building, in many different towns. We all saw ourselves playing at the Spectrum, and if you gave anyone from my time and place the chance to suit up and go knock down some jumpers, or just skate on the same bad ice as Da Flyers did, we'd be there in a minute. Wearing old uniforms.
So while intellectually, it's just another building going down, it's more than that emotionally for Philly Fan... and since we're all about the emotion, we'll be holding our non-ironic lighters high, remembering some particularly vile swear words at the ref, and seeing our heroes, fading in our mind's eye.
Save me some debris.
(Oh, and here's a link for you to wallow in.)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
TOP 10 THINGS TO MISS ABOUT THE SPECTRUM
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
TOP 12 BASEBALL TRADITIONS THAT SHOULD BE REVIVED
by DMtShooter, Five Tool Tool
12. Shame.
Richie Sexson charges the mound on a pitch that wasn't anywhere near him. Alex Rodriguez screams at a third baseman like a little kid, and slaps at a glove like a bitch. Manny Ramirez watches every extra base hit like it's a freaking oil painting. Guys wear body armor and crowd the plate. Joba Chamberlain and Carlos Zambrano have orgasms when they get strikeouts. Dozens if not hundreds of guys inject.
Is it too much to ask you meatheads to be, you know, men?
11. Seventh inning stretches that recognize America as a fine and honorable nation that needs nothing more than peanuts and Cracker Jack.
Hey, Yankees? You aren't fooling anyone with this 9/11 fetishism. We all know it's just a way to keep your paying customers in the place for another 20 minutes to pump up your concession sales. Stop making money off a tragedy.
(Yes, I know this probably isn't their main motivation, but we are well into 6 years of pointless and grandiose displays, and I'd like it to stop in my lifetime. Spread the word that the Yanks spend the extra time, I don't know, fondling kids or something. Let's end this.)
10. Wildly colorful, insulting, and highly unlikely nicknames.
The Wild Horse of the Osage! Losing Pitcher! Old Aches and Pains! Yes, dammit, a million times yes. These borderline corporations in the batters box need to be taken down a peg. Or six.
9. Hitting the runner with the ball for an out.
If it was good enough for the 19th century, it's good enough for now. Besides, I'd like to see who has enough stones to still bunt in the post-pain era.
8. The bullpen car.
Especially since Tony LaRussa murdered the late innings with constant changes. If you have to change pitchers every hitter, I expect to see 0 to 60 burnouts to get the next slop artist up there.
7. Artificial turf.
You know who hated this stuff? Players. Screw 'em; they're paid enough. I miss parks where you could get a triple just by hitting it hard past the shortstop, because triples rule. Oh, and so does having players who would steal 60 bases a year being actual stars, rather than sabermetrically disrespected. Stolen bases are exciting. Walks aren't. (And yes, I'm an A's fan, but if every team played patient, baseball would be excruciating to watch.)
6. Pennant races.
I'm not completely against the wildcard... but it's way too easy to make it to the playoffs that way and have everything be just hunky dory. So keep the wildcard, but make it hurt -- by having the wildcard team play *all* of its first-round games on the road. If you weren't good enough to win your division, you should suffer. Even if you're really good. (Hell, if you're all that and a bag of chips, you'll win that series anyway with the complete Us vs. Them thing.)
5. Independent minor leagues.
This is a whole 'nother post in itself, but why should so much of the country suffer with local pennant races that mean nothing, and can be compromised at any time? Imagine, for a moment, a country in which college basketball or football worked the same way. Yeah, that's a lame world, isn't it? 
4. Mind-boggingly ugly uniforms.
Nothing, but nothing, will ever come close to those mid '70s Astros gamers. Unless it was those crap brown Padre duds. Or that aggro uggo A's gear. Or any number of ChiSox freakouts. Or the Tribe's all-red catsuits. Or...
You know what? Those uniforms were fun. If your team had them, you either Stockholm Syndromed yourself into liking them, or just good-naturedly stuck with it. It made fandom mean something. Forget the throwbacks; make them permanent. (Besides, if you're paying for a uniform, you need to stop taking life seriously.)
3. Cocaine.
Ah, remember those halcyon days where you knew that the players that were abusing illegal drugs were hurting their performance, rather than helping it? Coked-up players spent their money in truly spectacular ways, endured revolving door rehabs, and were easily mocked by any opposing fan with the ability to sniff hard. And since cocaine was wildly expensive, you didn't really have to worry about kids wanting to do it. Bring back Peruvian Marching Powder!
2. Land mines (gloves, statues, etc.).
Once again a time, players left their gloves in the field, and Yankee Stadium had statues in play in deep center field. More of this, please. We've had enough routine plays to last a lifetime.
1. Bizarro Parks.
Not just modern bizarre, like the pinball domes in Seattle, or the freaky offense be damned park in Houston. I'm looking for Polo Grounds insanity (dimensions of 279' to left, 450 to left center, 483 to dead, 449 to right center, and 258 to right). I want parks with decades of history, most of it obscure. Give me places with no luxury box seating at all, troughs in the restrooms, and food that is clearly cheap and bad for you.
Oh, and for a price that means you could go more than a handful of times a year without a trust fund. (And while I'm wishing, I'd like a pony. That craps money.)
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Top 10 Signs You're Becoming A Very, Very Old Football Fan
by DMtShooter, Five Tool Tool
10) You remember the USFL -- and individual players from it (Herschel Walker! Doug Flutie! Sam Mills! Kelvin Bryant! Jim Kelly! Vince Evans! Wait, I have more...)
9) Every offense looks like they throw the ball too goddamn much
8) You still can't quite grasp that the Cardinals are in Phoenix, and Los Angeles has no team
7) Coors Light commercials fool you into thinking they are real
6) You sometimes tune in to the late game on CBS just to make sure you haven't missed the start of "60 Minutes"
5) Your idea of an innovative defensive scheme is to switch to the 3-4
4) You still don't quite trust the idea of a black quarterback... and you're black yourself
3) You have fond memories of Stick-Um
2) You still think Al Davis as evil and a genius, rather than pathetic, incompetent and senile
1) Every roughing the passer call makes you shake your fist at the screen and scream "Pussies"
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Old Man Mourning Wants You Punks Off His Lawn
by DMtShooter, Five Tool Tool
Item: The Miami Heat will have Alonzo Mourning, the Redd Foxx of NBA centers, for one more year.
I don''t know about you people, but this just makes me feel warm all over -- like I've just soiled myself, but without the shame. Because just like with Brett Favre, Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds, my entire existence is wrapped up in whether or not an aging jock who thinks his end-career options need to be discussed out loud and ad nauseasm.
Please, Aging Prima Donna who is no longer all that relevant, grace us with another year of your athletic gifts! We know we're not worthy, but baby, we just can't let the good times end like this!
(Pardon the emotion. I've never really recovered from Losing Flutie.)
To give you an idea of just how long 'Zo has been at this, consider that:
> Other notable players from his draft class included Adam Keefe, Harold Miner and Bob Pettit
> Zo has played playoff basketball in Charlotte, NC
> When 'Zo started, the Phillies were a World Series contender
> During his rookie year, people actually wanted to see Madonna naked
> At the start, Ross Perot was not a punchline (OK, not all the time)
> In his career, especially in the early days, the Knicks were actually good
> The American White Lumbering Center roamed the earth, with magnficient specimens like Chris Dudley, Mark Eaton and Jon Koncak
> Professional baseball was played in Montreal, Pittsburgh and Kansas City
> Blogs like Epic Carnival did not exist (shocking but true)
> Many of you, especially the ones that The Carnies want to see in swimwear, were not alive
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