Stu Bykofsky: How did the Mummers run over, but do it faster?

WHEN THE CITY and the Mummers agreed that The Parade That Almost Didn't Happen was limited to 6 1/2 hours, I decided to bet the "over." For nongamblers, that means I bet myself that it would last longer. Sure enough, the last glorious string band didn't clear the City Hall judges until 4:42, ending a parade that began at 9:58 a.m. (The Goodtimers comic club stepped off from Broad and Washington two minutes early.

The parade ended "over," so I'm a winner.

But if the city and the Mummers could stage the entire parade in a mere six hours and 42 minutes this year, why couldn't they put on a faster parade in past years?

The 108th Mummers Parade was the shortest in memory, maybe ever.

It was also one of the coldest, with subfreezing temperatures the whole day, bitter as sin when the wind picked up. It was 19 degrees when the parade started and just under 30 (but feeling colder) when it ended.

It was also one of most lightly attended, due to the weather, but maybe partly due to the earlier uncertainty of whether there would be a parade at all. When a top-ranked band like Fralinger (No. 1 again this year), in bright sunshine, marches by the Bellevue - a sidewalk-clogging choke point for many years - and sees spectators only two deep you know attendance is as depressed as the stock market.

What made the parade move so fast?

Several factors.

In the Comic Division, the Liberty mother club bailed, leaving perennial top-prize-winner Murray, along with Goodtimers, Landi and the irrepressible, naughty wench brigades. (Froggy Carr wenches threw shoes at a portrait of Mayor Nutter.)

In the Fancy Division, Oregon was a last-minute no-show, reportedly unwilling to sign a city contract that would leave them holding the bag for a portion of parade costs over the 300G that the city put up. That left Golden Sunrise, Hog Island and Adelphia.

To tighten the parade, a couple of long-standing string-band full-performance points - at St. Agnes Hospital and Pine Street - were dropped.

[Disclosure: Pine Street had been "my" corner for many years. R.I.P.]

There were fewer gaps, and more bands played more, to the joy of shivering spectators who braved the cold.

As in past years, Fancy Brigades marched north up Broad out of South Philly, then departed at Washington to head for two shows in the warm and comfy Convention Center. For the first time, wenches bagged South Broad Street and entered the parade at Washington. The other comic clubs had started their parade at Washington in earlier years.

After the Aqua String Band's first performance - right on time at 10:30 a.m. at Shunk - I asked Captain Ron Iannacone if he wanted the "over" or "under" on the 6 1/2 hours.

"Aqua is going to be on time," he said. "And if we're not, it's not going to be our fault."

They weren't, and it wasn't.

Aqua was where it should have been to be judged at City Hall at 1:47. There was a 10-minute delay because the judges were not ready.

I was standing next to the judges' table, looking at Aqua, ready to go. The judges were the holdup.

Not that they were the only pothole. I have a few ideas, and will check with some Mummers and then report back.

One other fact may or may not have caused delay.

The mayor traditionally marches in front of the first string band. Last year, Nutter marched the length of the parade, from South Philly to City Hall, cheered from both sides of Broad Street. He was loved.

Not so much this year, not after he took his budget ax to the parade.

A very tardy mayor joined the parade at South Penn Square, about 50 yards from the finish line, got his obligatory boos and vanished.

E-mail stubyko@phillynews.com or call 215-854-5977. For recent columns:

http://go.philly.com/byko.