By Kelly Hockenberry, Columnist, The Times
It’s been quite a week of celebrating in Philadelphia! Just a few days shy of Valentine’s Day, there has been nothing but love in the air thanks to that incredible win last Sunday.
I will be honest (even at the risk of being ostracized) and tell you that I am not a die-hard football fan. I can count on one hand the number of regular season games I watched this year (and by “watched” I mean sat in the family room looking at Instagram on my phone while the TV blared in the background). In the spirit of transparency, I was in New York City at a home show during most of the Super Bowl coverage (made it home just in time for JT…which was ah-mazing).
Even though I might not be able to name more than three players (I thought Wentz’s name was “Carl” for a while until my kids wouldn’t let me embarrass myself any longer), I do love an underdog story. I think if you grew up in Delaware County like I did, you have a bit of Rocky in your blood. Not to mention that my mother was an Eagles cheerleader in the late 60’s and my grandfather was probably the most passionate fan in the history of the world. I love the scrappiness of this team and the palpable sense of brotherhood.
Both of my sons are basketball players. I was one of those mothers who wouldn’t let them go out for the football team (and they punish me for it, a lot). I didn’t like (and still don’t) the sheer brutal nature of it all. I don’t care how many pads you have on or the advances in technology in the helmet, repeatedly hitting the ground that violently play after play takes a serious toll on your brain and your body. And while they got to experience the comradery of being a part of an organized sport, there is no denying that being a football player seems to carry with it some extra mystique.
The parade was evidence of that fact, am I right? If you haven’t watched Jason Kelce’s speech to the millions of fans who braved the cold and lack of porta-potties, you are missing out. My best guess is that he was rather intoxicated…nevertheless, hidden amongst the stream of profanities contained a rally cry to never give up, despite the odds that may be stacked against you. It was awesome (but, no, I would not vote for him for President).
It has been such an inspiring few days, I don’t want to tarnish it with any fashion criticism (really it’s self-preservation because my opinions regarding wearing jerseys would probably be considered sacrilege). So, let’s end on a positive note, shall we?
Fly high, like an Eagle! Happy Weekend
