What I learned in Eagles 101

AS SOMEONE who's in the City of Brotherly Love for a good education, there's one thing I've learned oh-so clearly:

Nothing in Philadelphia is more widely loved than the Eagles. They are the Red Sox of Boston or the Red Wings of Detroit - the team put on a pedestal, the heart and soul of Philadelphians. And the mood and emotions of Eagles fans directly correlate with the final score.

With victory comes deafening whooping and screaming, honking of car horns, and the chanting of "E-A-G-L-E-S, EAGLES!"

With defeat comes a combination of awkward silence and vulgar obscenities, the throwing of any object within reach, the sight of adults sobbing. Win or lose, there's always a good deal of alcohol consumption, hugging of random strangers - for elation or consolation - and over-analysis of every play and action, on and off the field.

In the days, hours, minutes, seconds - breaths - before kickoff, the faith says that there's "absolutely no way the Eagles are going to lose." Yet in a matter of plays - maybe even seconds - Eagles fans become their team's most hostile critics.

This fanaticism has captivated the sports nation. From coast to coast, other fans condemn Philadelphians for being overly harsh, verging on abusive. Growing up in Connecticut, I truly believed that Eagles fans were evil.

Then I moved to Philadelphia.

The cheers and obscenities that fill Cavanaugh's near the Penn campus on Sunday afternoons would be heard at the Linc if not for the constant drone of West Philadelphia motorists. And it is at Cav's, during my first semester at college, that I learned to be the best fan in all sports - an Eagles fan.

I learned that Eagles fans will not tolerate disrespect. If opposing fans don't have the decency (or common sense) to remain invisible in Philadelphia territory, they will suffer the consequences.

Some learn the easy way. My friends learned the hard way. One Sunday, in a quintessential display of freshman naivete, they decided it would be entertaining to applaud all Eagles miscues. The result? An onslaught of chicken legs, utensils and wet napkins aimed at our table. And another lesson learned.

Eagles fans also anticipate the worst possible outcome. One afternoon, with time about to expire, David Akers set up to kick a potentially game-winning 23-yard field goal - almost a gimme.

Yet, Eagles fans braced themselves for disappointment, resorting to silent prayer, the rally cap and closed eyes. When the kick sailed cleanly through the uprights, the eruption was as if some higher power had blessed us with nothing short of a miracle.

The Phillies may boast the Phanatic, but Eagles fans are their own greatest mascots. Unprovoked cheers and spontaneous renditions of "Fly Eagles Fly" are not unique to Sundays at Cavanaugh's. And it doesn't matter where. I've heard it on winter afternoons walking around Center City. And in the upper deck at Phillies games in April. Football season may last from September to January, but Eagles fans bleed green and silver all year round.

Outside Philadelphia, Eagles fans are depicted as untamed and uncouth. That's accurate, maybe, but not totally correct.

If I've learned nothing else from my Sundays at Cavanaugh's, it's that Eagles fans are a rare treat in the world of professional sports, where way too many fans often lack unbridled passion. Where college students completely succumb to school pride, pro sports fans have been turned into mere spectators to an event. How ironic that at the highest level of athleticism comes the lowest level of fanaticism - at least elsewhere in the world of sports.

Outsiders construe Philadelphians' rabid cheering for the Eagles as deplorable - and in the case of throwing utensils and poultry parts, that may be true.

BUT Philadelphians unite for the Eagles in a way rarely seen elsewhere in the American scene. People today declare their allegiances in a few sedate words. Long gone are the days of headline-worthy protests and rallies. Somewhere along the way, we've became timid in giving ourselves away to a larger cause.

We need to rediscover passion - to be more like Eagles fans. *

Eric Karlan is a junior at the University of Pennsylvania, studying journalism.

E-mail him at Karlan@sas.upenn.edu, or see his other writings at EricKarlan.com.