The Q-View

A Twitter video posted by the Eagles got me thinking this week about the origins of my devotion to Philly sports teams.

On the video (VIEW HERE) a “snowball”, on behalf of his brethren, finally apologized to Santa for an incident in 1967.

As Philadelphia football fans know, Eagles fans are still periodically vilified by the national media because some in attendance at Franklin Field fifty years ago pelted Santa with snowballs at halftime. (The backstory is HERE.) Snopes even fact-checked the event and rated it TRUE.

Anyway, my piece of the story is that I could have been at that game. My father and I had tickets, but my dad also ran a snowplow and was probably on call since 6-12 inches had fallen overnight. Plus, the Eagles sucked. I still wanted to go and begged to be able to take the bus. I imagine my mother shot that plan down.

I had seen my first in-person Eagles game with dad on December 11 of the previous year. That was something of a historic event, also: the Eagles Al Nelson returned a missed field goal 100 yards for a touchdown on the last play of the first half. The Eagles beat the Browns 33-21.

Watching the Flyers game last night reminded me that I saw my first NHL games in 1967. My father and I saw the very first sellout the Flyers had at the Spectrum in December of that year. It was against the Chicago Blackhawks and Bobby Hull.

Hull was reputed to have the hardest shot in hockey, a fact not lost on me as we sat behind the goal just high enough to be over the top of the glass. Supposedly, Hull often unleashed head-high blasts to intimidate goalies. I was hoping not to be decapitated by a too-high Hull slapshot! The Chicago winger did score two goals that night, both tap-ins from right in front of the net. The Flyers lost 3-0.

My first Phillies game happened in the early 60’s. There is one thing I remember clearly about that night: Connie Mack Stadium had the greenest grass I had ever seen. Years later, Field of Dreams would give words to that impression: “Is this heaven?”  (Watch HERE for the scene between Ray and his father, where the question is asked). My father, of course, took me to my first baseball game.

I saw my first college basketball game at the Villanova Fieldhouse, with my father. Later, when we attended a St. Joe-Villanova game at the Palestra, he discovered that I needed glasses. I could not see the scoreboard.

Maybe the Eagles snowball video was the catalyst, but I now think this trip down memory lane was really fueled by the nostalgia provoked by the Christmas season and memories of my father and attending games together.

A tradition I continued with my sons.

It is heaven.