OPINION . Slant

Gonna Lie Now

Funny how Philly's greatest sports legend doesn't even exist.

Published: Dec 20, 2006

With apologies to those critiqued (and overlooked) below, especially during this season of good tidings and cheer, Rocky Balboa is the only true sports hero we've ever had in this town. The sorry-ass part is that he's make-believe. Fiction, though, helps a Philly fan.

The release of Rocky Balboa this week might just jolt the city from a woeful winter funk. As I write this, the Flyers and Sixers combined had lost 17 straight. At one point this season, the Eagles had lost five of six games. So, it's Rocky —who ranks No. 7 on the American Film Institute's Top 100 Heroes list —to the rescue, again.

Like Rocky, we don't have to win every time, although we wouldn't mind. Rocky (1976) won three Oscars, including Best Picture. Even Rocky's statue (commissioned in 1982 for Rocky III) won its bout over the meaning of art: It's back outside the Art Museum, albeit on a lower level, only reaffirming the built-in underdog in every Philadelphian. We all climb the Art Museum steps daily.

Rocky, the dim-witted but good-hearted rags-to-riches, indomitable Italian Stallion, overcomes more adversity in Rocky Balboa. His wife Adrian dies and, despite his advanced age, he righteously returns to the ring.

Other than Smarty Jones and Barbaro (though I'm not sure horses can be heroes), the rest who have passed through Philly's less-than-pearly gates are flawed.

Donovan. Always a buildup, then a bust. Preseason, McNabb, again, confessed his love for Philadelphia. However, Philly, the city that's supposed to, has never loved him back.

Iverson. The answer was long a true-false question. Now, we have our answer: False. After A.I. requested a trade, Chris Webber called him the "heart of Philadelphia." How about the heel? No one begs out of Philly and is forgiven.

OK, let's go back deeper into the sporting-memory banks. We loved Chuck Bednarik but once he retired, he resented every player who ever made more money than him. Then, he waged a public grudge against our beloved Birds which, of course, is a major no-no.

Mike Schmidt was a prima donna. Richie Allen was too gruff. Jim Bunning became a politician. Bobby Clarke and Julius Erving went into management where Clarke, who we preferred without teeth, failed the Flyers in a suit and tie.

Was Pete Rose Charlie Hustle or Charlie Hustler?

Steve Carlton went mum. Charles Barkley had too big a mouth. Bill Bergey and Tommy McDonald are goofy. Richie Ashburn was more beloved in the broadcast booth.

In the early years with the Athletics, the venerable Connie Mack opposed our Phils! But owners can't count, and neither can coaches. Our favorite, Dick Vermeil, cried too much. Plus, they don't make posters of coaches.

The fight poster for Rocky Balboa reads "Will vs. Skill," Rocky, the over-the-hill, retired champ vs. reigning heavyweight champ Mason "The Line" Dixon (real-life boxer Antonio Tarver). This is forever a "will" town.

Besides the horses, any real Rocky runner-ups died early, cheating us. Tug McGraw tugged at our hearts, then brain cancer rendered him mortal. Reggie White was truly the Minister of Defense but, after he fled for Green Bay, his ticker took him. Andre Waters, a fearless, ferocious hitter like Rocky, died Nov. 20 from a self-inflicted gunshot. That's no hero.

Every time Rocky was dead, he arose from the canvas with another sequel. No other athlete's career spanned 30 years either, let alone paralleled the most tumultuous era in sports. No one hero was more fitting for Philly, even if, Scrooge-like, we start citing noncity players we honor: In 1980, Kansas City's Willie Wilson struck out a record 12 times, including the one that led Tug to hold up his prop, the "We Win" cover of the Daily News, when at the victory parade he told New York to "stick it."

Still, when Rocky avenges his first loss to Apollo Creed at the end of Rocky II, he holds up the championship belt and bellows like only a true Philadelphian could, "Yo, Adrian! I did it!"

Classic — even if it's make-believe.

J.F. Pirro is a CP contributor.

Comments

Interesting piece, only I can't help thinking that Richie Ashburn was just as loved on the field (for a winner) as he was in the booth, if not more so. And the part about the Tugger was a tad harsh, don't ya think? I mean, it almost adds to his legacy, too bad, in terms of these arguments, he was a Met.
by rockcolors on December 22nd 2006 10:53 PM



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