Gonzo: Victorino misreads Philly fans

The fans in Philly are different from anywhere else - passionate, discerning, maybe a touch rough and tough. It's not a town for the sensitive. This has been well-documented. Everyone knows the deal. Well, almost everyone.

The Phillies have underperformed this season. Perhaps you've heard. Injuries to key players haven't helped, but beyond that the Fightin's simply haven't played the way we - or they - expected.

The other night, as the Phils were dropping another game and the series to the meddlesome NL East-leading Atlanta Braves, some boos slipped from the stands and wafted out onto the field with the hot summer wind. It was nothing. As far as criticism in this town goes, it was pretty mild - the equivalent of getting sweet peppers on your hate hoagie instead of hot. Shane Victorino still had a hard time digesting it.

"That's the thing that frustrates me more than anything, listening to that kind of stuff," Victorino told MLB.com. "They're quick to forget what we've done the last two years. When I hear things like that, it eats me. OK. I see. Jimmy [Rollins] used that word. I'm not going to use it, but you know what I'm talking about."

See what he did there? He didn't use the word and yet he knows that we know what he's talking about. Very clever, Shane. Wonder who's writing his material these days?

Victorino was not-so-subtly referring to how Rollins called Philly fans "front-runners" two years ago on national television. (For what it's worth, Victorino backtracked the next day and told reporters, "I love the fans here.") Front-runner isn't a four-letter word, but in Philly it might as well be. It has a negative connotation and implies that Philly fans - just like the saps in St. Louis, the meatheads in Miami, and the dolts in Dallas - support the team only when it's winning. That seems like a pretty good time to support a team, but there's some nuance here that Victorino and other athletes often miss.

Simply showing up at the ballpark and cheering doesn't mean you care or that you're paying attention. Any half-bright water-park seal can be trained to clap on command. Similarly, not showing up doesn't necessarily mean you're uninterested in your team. The 76ers can't get anyone to go to the Wachovia Center to see their games, and yet people seemed pretty passionate and ticked off by the direction of the franchise - at least before Doug Collins became the coach and Evan Turner was drafted. Not wanting to pay money for tickets or support the Sixers' failure in person with smiles doesn't make the fans front-runners. It makes them smart.

The best part of the Victorino don't-boo-me-bro plea was the bit about how the fans have a real role to play. You may have previously believed baseball is about clutch hitting and smart baserunning, solid fielding, and effective pitching. That is incorrect. Wins and losses are evidently related to how many "attaboys" you give the players, and apparently you've been slacking.

"If I'm a fan of a team and they're not doing good, I get frustrated, too," Victorino said. "But don't throw in the towel. Get behind us. Find a way to get behind us and pick us up. We need them. That's what this game is about. It's not just us."

See. That's what this game is about. It's not just them. It's us, too. We're all in this together - just ask the fan Jayson Werth F-bombed the other night. I'm sure, because you play such an integral role in the grand scheme of Phillies baseball, that your 2008 World Series ring will be delivered soon. Check the mailbox. It might have already arrived.

Victorino seems confused by the strange way we tend to speak our minds. That happens a lot with athletes. This isn't Green Bay or Milwaukee or some other Midwestern hamlet populated by mindless lemmings thankful that they simply have a pro team to cheer so they can escape another exciting night of cow-tipping. In Philly, life moves at a faster clip and the expectations are high. With that comes a certain edge and attitude, but that seems like a fair trade-off in exchange for genuine passion.

The "don't throw in the towel" part was odd as well. When did voicing displeasure about how the team is playing become synonymous with welcoming the Defeat Fairy to climb in through the window and place a wait-till-next-year quarter under our pillows? Victorino and the rest need to understand that booing doesn't mean the fans don't believe in the players, and it doesn't mean they don't support the teams. It's mostly a way of venting our collective frustration and submitting performance reports in a timely manner.

And by the way: Front-runners don't boo. They're too busy doing the wave.

But who knows? Maybe Victorino is right. Maybe packing the stands and cheering our little fan hearts out is the quickest and surest way to victory. That's probably why the Pirates haven't won anything in a while.