"Sports Talk"

I’ve always believed that the thin line between the New York City and Philadelphia area is a road, and it’s called 195.

North of 7A on the New Jersey Turnpike, it’s not a hoagie, it’s a sub. A warm steak sandwich is, well a warm steak sandwich with cheese and certainly not a cheesesteak ‘wit’, and these poor people will never know the glories of a “Tastykake” with Wawa coffee for a quick breakfast.

North of 7A, Philly fans are, and will always continue to be, the ones that are scorned. “You booed ‘Santa Claus ‘”, they’ll tell you, over all of the beers and wings in a northern New Jersey bar.

“Remember 1993! Remember Mitch Williams! Remember last year, when your so-called “Fighting Phils” gave it all up with only one game to go!”

“And, how about how Donovan fell apart in his only Super Bowl appearance!”

Yadda, yadda, yadda, ya know. We know!

While I’m over the moon that my Phils’ are moving onto the next set of games towards the World Series, I’m really feeling bad for the Mets and their fans.

There’s no schaudenfraude here, but I feel your pain, since I’m a Philly sports fan and once you’ve sipped the “Philly Fan” Kool-Aid, I believe you’ve just made a life-long commitment.

You need to go through the five stages of grief, but I know as well as anyone that there is no stage called “utter disgust”.

My team will be playing on Wednesday night, and yours won’t, but I promise to be good.

I promise not to wear any of my Phillies tees and jerseys until we’re in the World Series. Besides, I fear serious retribution in the produce section of Wegman’s if I do.

I’ll be nice, I promise. I won’t bring up the game if you won’t.

And, with that said….

“Go, Phils!”