Fourth in a series

MORE THAN 30 years have passed and still Bill Clement can walk into a bar, sit down and suddenly a drink will appear before him. It will be from a fan, someone who had spotted him and just wanted to say thanks for the two Stanley Cups he helped the Flyers win in 1974 and 1975. Clement says he will always walk over and shake hands, whereupon the fan will tell him exactly where he was when "The Broad Street Bullies" won the Cups.

Every fan he encounters seems to know where he was at the very moment the titles were won.

And every one of them seems to begin by telling him: "I can still remember . . . "

"Somebody once told me, 'I can still remember being on the porch at my grandfather's house when you guys won,' " Clement says. " 'And people began streaking down the street.' Remember how they used to do that in the '70s, run down the street with no clothes on?"

Clement asked him how old he was then.

The man replied, "Oh, about 3."

But it is just not Clement, and it is just not the Flyers. If you were a part of a championship team in Philadelphia, you carry that designation forever. In the years to come, the 2008 world champion Phillies will come to understand what previous champions have experienced: the enduring adoration of Philadelphia fans. For the 1985 Villanova basketball team, the 1983 Sixers, the 1980 Phillies and even the 1960 Eagles, the outpouring of affection has opened doors that otherwise would have been closed.

Pro Football Hall of Fame receiver Tommy McDonald says, "Being a world champion is something you can hang your hat on."

Given how long it has been since the Eagles upset the Green Bay Packers in December 1960, McDonald is amazed that people still even bring it up to him. But they do. Whenever he does a card show in the area, or signs autographs at Lincoln Financial Field before Eagles games, fans will invariably ask him: "Hey, Tommy, what are you doing after this? Can I take you to dinner?" Or he gets letters asking him if he would like to go to lunch. McDonald says he always enjoys when people ask him: "What did it feel like to beat the Packers?"

McDonald laughs and always replies: "How did it feel? How did it feel to beat Vince Lombardi and the Green Bay Packers? Magnificent!!!"

Former players say that until you actually win a championship, you cannot anticipate what it will be like. Clement says that in the case of the Flyers, "We were so focused on winning it that the aftermath was something no one even contemplated until we began living it."

Teammate Joe Watson says that he became aware of the impact the Cup had on the city the day after the Flyers beat Boston in 1974. He remembers that before the parade, he tried to buy some film at a local drugstore.

"The guy working there said, 'We're all out,' " says Watson, who was one of the original Flyers. "And I said, 'What do you mean you're all out?' And the guy said, 'Didn't you hear, the Flyers won the Stanley Cup.' Then somebody else in the store spotted me and said, 'Hey, that's Joe Watson!' And everybody chased me out into the parking lot."

Watson chuckled and adds, "I am not sure how else to say it, but they feel indebted to us."

People still come up and stop Dickie Noles, a relief pitcher for the 1980 Phillies. Surrounded that year by such legendary stars as Mike Schmidt, Pete Rose and Steve Carlton, Noles is fairly sure that no one would even remember he was on that team were it not for the fact that he brushed back Kansas City slugger George Brett in what is still considered a pivotal event in the World Series. During spring training this year with the Phillies, for whom he still works in an employee-assistance capacity, Noles overheard a fan in Clearwater shout: "Greatest knockdown pitch in history! Attaboy, Dickie!"

"Thank God I did it, or else no one would even know who I am today," says Noles, who adds that the legend has become so enlarged that some fans actually think he hit Brett. "But I enjoy the fact that people remember me. I am part of something that will never fade away. And I agree with what Charlie Manuel said, 'I always thought I was a winner. Now I know I am.' "

Do fans ever offer to buy him dinner?

Noles laughs and says, "No. I am still waiting on that."

Championships take on an even larger dimension for some players with the passing of time. The fine Sixers forward Bobby Jones says, "It was a delayed thing for me," that the gravity of winning that 1983 title did not fully dawn on him until he had gotten some distance from it. Though Jones currently lives in Charlotte, he is always amazed by the hearty reception he receives from fans whenever he comes back to Philadelphia. In fact, he is even more amazed that people even recognize him.

"I am 57 years old, balding and have few of the physical features I had when I played," he says. "But people immediately recognize me and say: 'Welcome back, Bobby!' And I get that around almost every corner."

Jones says he also gets letters from fans every week. "They just say, 'Thanks for the great memories,' " says Jones. "Clearly, the championship we won was a benchmark in their lives."

But Jones does not receive the same attention for having been an All-America player at North Carolina. "The school has had so many All-America players since I left, and has even won two national championships," he says. "What we did in Philadelphia in 1983 was special because it was something that did not happen every day. In fact, it has not happened since."

For a city starved for championships, winning one takes on a special permanence. Former Villanova star Ed Pinckney has found that to be true in the years that have passed since the Wildcats upset Georgetown in 1985. Pinckney says the victory is always an "ice-breaker" in conversations, and that people are curious to hear what it was like to play for Rollie Massimino. But while Pinckney says that was a "signature game," it is unclear at this point if it will be remembered with the same awe if Villanova prevails at the Final Four in Detroit.

Clement always has wondered what would happen if the Flyers finally won another Cup.

"What would happen to the celebrity of the players that were on that team?" asks Clement. "How would we be looked upon if we were no longer the last players to have won a Cup?"

Watson thinks he knows. "Oh, I think it would deteriorate some," says Watson, who is one of countless Flyers still living in the area. "Once they win another Cup, we will fall along the wayside."

And how will life change for the Phillies?

The consensus is they will carry themselves as champions. And Mike Schmidt says that feeling extends beyond the players. "Nothing breeds confidence more than becoming a champion," says Schmidt. "It makes everyone better, not only the team, the announcers, the equipment man, the grounds crew. Everyone associated with the team feels like a winner."

In years to come they also will find what Clement says he discovered: "Unless they somehow screw it up, they will have universal acceptance, a type of hero worship that will never go away."

They will be remembered as champions.

And as Clement adds: "That is a very powerful word." *