Bummer. Sounds like he's going to miss a sweet party.

New Order's founder, Gerald Rose, said his organization has "40 or 50 members, on paper." Naturally, the group picked a small, intimate venue to welcome Vick back. Maybe you've heard of it - it's called the Georgia Dome.

"We never supported dogfighting, but Michael loved this city and we loved him," Rose said. "We feel that we owe Michael Vick. Even though he's been gone from the city for a few years, we feel like we'll get a great turnout and a lot of people to the rally."

J. Whyatt Mondesire - head of the Philadelphia NAACP - told reporters the same thing before Vick's first preseason game. Mondesire promised a big march, then produced maybe 15 people before the game.

As he stood outside the Linc that day, Mondesire kept insisting that his group had swelled to at least 30 strong. I didn't have the heart to tell him he was actually surrounded by reporters, not protesters.

Like Mondesire, Rose is a notorious self-promoter. When I got him on the phone yesterday, he told me multiple times to Google him and that he's been interviewed by Nancy Grace - twice. (I hope Glenn Beck hears about Rose. Someone needs to put them together just so the rest of us can watch the television train wreck that crashes into our living rooms thereafter.)

Rose has a history with ESPN, too. That's actually how I heard about him and the rally. John Kincade has a show on ESPN radio and lives in Atlanta. He saw the New Order flier trumpeting the Dec. 4 event, had a flashback, and told me about it.

Two years ago, after Vick agreed to plead guilty to federal dogfighting charges, ESPN held a town-hall meeting at the Georgia World Congress Center and put it on TV. It didn't go well. During commercial breaks, Kincade - a panelist who had been hypercritical of Vick - said the crowd, including some of Rose's supporters, shouted threats at him.

"Things like 'See if you make it to your car tonight,' " Kincade said. "It was as if Jerry Springer met the Jenny Jones Show."

Rose doesn't deny that the crowd was "getting kind of angry" that evening, but he said that's only because "people on the panel were very biased against Michael Vick. That bothered some people. The only one who can judge Michael Vick is the man above. No one should judge him."

But wasn't the crowd judging Kincade simply because it didn't like his opinion?

"Can you repeat the question?" Rose asked.

Sure. Isn't it hypocritical to judge Kincade if you were upset that he judged Vick?

Pause.

"Hmm," Rose said, "that is true."

So, yeah, don't forget to sign up early for the rally. The Georgia Dome has a seating capacity of 71,250. If all the New Order members bring a guest, that only leaves 71,150 tickets for the rest of us.

Back in 2000, I was living in Dallas and working for the Village Voice Media paper down there. When the Eagles came to town, it was a brutal day - 109 degrees outside the stadium, with Cowboys officials claiming it was 125 on the field. You know when you're cooking something in the oven and you open the door to check on it and the heat hits you in the face? That's how it felt - like you decided to bake your entire body at 475.

After starting the game with an onside kick, the Birds went on to crush the 'Boys at Texas Stadium, thanks to the team's best player that day - Pickle Juice.

Since then, the legend has only grown, and today Pickle Juice remains a local celebrity credited with winning the World Series, ending the SEPTA strike and working to solve the city's budget crisis. Sadly, just like A Million Little Pieces author James Frey, it appears P.J. fabricated its credentials.

In their new book - Game Changers: The 50 Greatest Plays in Philadelphia Eagles Football History - local scribes Reuben Frank and Mark Eckel debunk the pickle juice myth. The authors got Eagles trainer Rick Burkholder to fess up and admit that pickle juice isn't a magic elixir after all but rather - gasp - a placebo. According to the book, the stuff doesn't hurt you - but it doesn't help immediately rehydrate you like some powerful ghetto Gatorade, either.

Shattering, isn't it? Next we'll find out that no one ever pelted Santa Claus with snowballs because he doesn't exist.

Contact columnist John Gonzalez at 215-854-2813 or gonzalez@phillynews.com.