Behind Enemy Lines

Until this past weekend my exposure to the city of Philadelphia had been pretty limited.

I visited once when I was a senior in high school; Y2K godfather Sippy Momo was a fiery first-year at what would come to be called "The U."

I wouldn't return for 8 or 9 years, and when I did, it was only for a few hours for Lister's bachelor party earlier this year. That excursion provided my introduction to Citizens Bank Park, but it didn't give me anything in the way of a sense for what Philly itself is all about.

After spending four days there it's probably an exaggeration to say I've got the city all figured out, but I did see enough of it to have a somewhat informed opinion. On the whole I have a very favorable impression.

Little Miss Citi and I stayed in the center city area, a very pleasant part of town that's home to good restaurants and bars, but quite a ways from Independence Center (Hall?) where the Liberty Bell is. In any event, I got a consistent vibe that I could live there if I ever needed to leave New York, which puts Philly on a very short list.

Of course, there were negatives too. First off, WOW are there are a lot of homeless people in Philadelphia! And crazy ones at that... we saw one homeless person who had the Joker makeup on his mouth. Also, I don't get cities where the cabbies don't have a consistent light-on/light-off policy like they do in New York... it could all be so simple!

A major issue for me, however, was the incredibly self-conscious feeling I had walking around town in my Mets hat. Maybe it was just because the Mets were in town, but I received a number of "Mets suck" taunts going from place to place (and then, god knows, when we went to CBP Saturday night).

We had awesome seats for the game, better than any I've ever had at Citi Field, actually, and they won, so it was an altogether positive experience. There's a little part of me that wanted the Mets to watch the Phillies celebrate another division crown, but if I'm honest, I'm glad I wasn't there/in Philly to see it.

It's a town that loves its baseball team. Of course, it's easy to love a team that's really good and makes the World Series every year, but as you walk around and see everyone in Philly red (along with some blue, maroon, and even green), you do get a bit envious. I suppose that's the difference between a one-team town and a two-team town.

Anyway, by the end of the weekend we were both sorry to leave. We had one last reminder of Philadelphia baseball on our way out of town, however.

A big guy with mangy hair and a goatee walked by, and I said, "whoa, that's Jayson Werth." A woman behind us pointed to the team bus and sure enough, all of a sudden the train station was flooded with Phillies. The locals cheered. I scowled. It was a fitting end to the weekend.

- A.F.O.M.G.