Football, Baseball and Brotherly Love - Philadelphia Is Sports Heaven

PHILADELPHIA -- Mike Alvarez is a lifelong Philadelphian with a Cole Hamels haircut and a vintage maroon Phillies cap who spent his Sunday in a parking lot. Alvarez didn't have tickets to the Eagles-Giants game in the afternoon. He didn't have tickets to the Phillies-Yankees World Series game at night. What he did have was a parking space for his truck, a seemingly bottomless supply of beer and enough slightly slurred wisdom to know that there was no place he would have rather been than this particular parking lot on this particular day, surrounded by his fellow Eagles and Phillies fans.

"They got flat-screens over there," Alvarez said, waving his beer can in the direction of a nearby RV. "Everybody's grilling food. I've made a ton of new friends. What more could you want?"

This was around 5:30 pm, an hour and a half after the Eagles had finished throttling the Giants and about three hours before Joe Blanton drilled Alex Rodriguez in the back with a first-inning fastball. It was the chilly intermission of one of the great days in Philadelphia sports history. An NFL rivalry game in the afternoon and then, across the parking lot, a World Series game under the full moon. Big, bad New York teams the opponents in both. Sure, it ended in disappointment, with the Yankees coming back to win the baseball game, 7-4, to take a 3-1 lead in the World Series. Still, for a day this city got to feel like the center of the sports universe. And the beauty part was, pretty much everybody behaved themselves.

That may be the most amazing thing about what's happened here, in a sports town famous for having booed Santa Claus and having taunted Michael Irvin as he lay injured on the artificial turf at old Veterans Stadium. Somewhere along the line, as the Eagles began consistently fielding playoff teams and the Phillies somehow turned into a mini-dynasty, Philadelphia sports fans appear to have shed some of the anger and bitterness that always defined them. Now, they find themselves able to look around on a day such as this and appreciate how special it is.

"I think the town feels like there's a lot to appreciate," said Joe Butkus, who was grilling in the drizzly morning with a mixed group of Philly and New York fans. "Look around. How can you not love this?"

Alvarez told a story of when he was a young boy at an Eagles game at the Vet. It was a cold, icy day, he said, and fans were walking the concrete ramps to the exits at the end of the game, and a woman in a Giants jersey fell and injured herself. As Alvarez tells it, the Eagles fans that day offered no sympathy -- just walked right past her and said, "That's what you get for wearing the wrong colors."

"That's what it used to be like," Alvarez said. "But we're polite now. We have that old reputation, but really, we're a lot more polite now than people say."

Of course, just as he was saying that, a guy walked by wearing a Michael Vick Eagles jersey and carrying a stuffed dog with bandages around its head and legs.

Didn't exactly help Alvarez make his point.

"You're always going to get a couple of nuts," he said.

And, of course, there were on both sides. A fan in a Yankees jersey got into a fight with two minutes left in the first half of the Giants-Eagles game, prompting loud boos and a "Yankees suck" chant from a crowd that had no reason all afternoon to be anything but deliriously happy. A guy in an Eagles jersey, lugging a cooler, tore through a crowd of anti-Vick protesters shouting obscenities and telling them to go away. And even the tamer interactions were designed to let the visitors from the Big Apple know who was boss.

"A guy with a green beard told me, 'You're in for a long day,'" said Vince Gilligo, who came from Hamilton, N.J., wearing a Giants cap.

Considering the setting and the circumstances, the proceedings leaned hard toward harmony. Gilligo was walking peacefully around the packed parking lots with his friend, Chuck Costello, who was decked out in Phillies gear. Tom Gussen and his son Maxwell parked their car early, while the lot was still somewhat empty, got out and started throwing a football around -- father in his green Stewart Bradley Eagles jersey and son in a blue Eli Manning number. Jose and Stephanie Torre, New York natives who now live in Northeast Philly, grilled side-by-side -- him in his Gaints garb and her in her Eagles wear, talking trash with smiles on their faces.

Kenny Kortright was part of a crew of Giants fans who drove in from Long Island. They were just going to the football game, not both. Kortright is a Mets fan, so this year's World Series matchup is a special sort of personal pain for him. After some soul-searching, he said he decided to root for the Yankees, because the Met fan in him sees the Phillies as "arrogant" and he likes too many of the players on the Yankees -- Teixeira, Sabathia, Jeter and Rivera to name a few.

But Kortright and his pals were in town to see the Giants, and as of 11 a.m. they were feeling pretty good about things.

"I'm gonna say 40-17, Giants crush em," Kortright seriously predicted.

And then of course the Eagles won, 40-17, dominating the visitors from the outset and turning the parking lots into a place where Eagle fans could drive by Giant fans flapping their arms out the window and taunting.

"I got the score right," Kortright said between games. "But wrong team. Very disheartening."

In a way, the lopsided football score contributed to the peace that pervaded the late-afternoon portion of the tailgate extravaganza. With an outcome so decisive, what arguments were there to have? What, exactly, was there for the Giants fans to say?

"Go Yankees?" Larry Riefenberg offered.

Oh yeah. Larry Riefenberg. Of Danbury, Conn. If there was a dude who summed up this day, it was our man Larry. He and his friends rented an RV, hired a driver and left at 6 a.m. They hit no traffic and pulled into the parking lot between Lincoln Financial Field and Citizens Bank Park around 9:30. They set up their grills and their beer coolers and their washer-toss game and settled in for a tailgate with their Philly-based attorney friends, who got them the tickets. As of 11 a.m., Riefenberg and Co. only had tickets to the football game, but they were at work on making it a doubleheader. As soon as they arrived, they connected with a ticket broker and began negotiating a price on some World Series Game Four tickets.

"Got to," Riefenberg said. "How many times do the stars align to where you're going to have a football game here and a World Series game 100 yards away?"

At 5 p.m., with the sun starting to go down and the chill starting to bite, Riefenberg snapped his cell phone shut and said, "We're in. We got 'em." He and two of the other guys in the RV had scored their Series tickets. They knew they were going to the game.

They didn't know much else, though. Like, where they were going to stay after it was over. Or how they were getting home. See, the rest of the RV crew was heading home. The vehicle pulled out of the lot at 6 p.m., bound for Danbury, with three of its original passengers grinning happily as they swigged Bass Ale and marveled at their good fortune. Riefenberg's friend, Arnie, was bemoaning the fact that he was now required to spend as much ($350) on his wife's birthday (Tuesday) as he did for his ticket. And there was some chatter about those little nagging issues of how they were going to find their way back to Connecticut. But all of that was drowned out by the fact that these guys were going to the World Series, and they were fired up about it.

"How can you not?" Arnie said, open arms raised to the red brick baseball stadium across the street from the RV's spot. "I mean, it's right here!"

Right here in the sports complex section of South Philadelphia. Which, for this Sunday at least, was the sports capital of the world.