NOLA – New Orleans Saints fans traveling to Philadelphia for Saturday’s NFC wild-card playoff game against the Eagles are invited to join NOLA.com | Times-Picayune photographers Michael DeMocker and David Grunfeld for a chilly yet inspirational run up the famous “Rocky” steps. Put on your black and gold best and meet them at the Rocky statue at the base of the stairway to the Philadelphia Museum of Art (26th Street and Ben Franklin Parkway) at 11 a.m. on Saturday (Jan. 4) to race up the steps and cheer on the “underdog” Saints. All Who Dats welcome. And, hey, can someone bring the “Rocky” theme music?
Not on my watch. Not today. Not ever.
The (Over/Under 9) Saints fans who travel up from The Big Easy think this is all fun and games. We’ll guess what. We’re the only city batshit enough to develop our entire image around a fictional character, and we will defend it to the death. You don’t just waltz in here thinking your shit don’t stink and run up our cherished steps. Not during playoff time. God help them if they think they can even look at the Rocky Statue without first paying proper respect to Adrian’s grave first.
WE’RE FROM PHILADELPHIA AND WE FIGHT, so here is what we must do: Any Stoolies in the Art Museum/Fairmount area tomorrow join us at 10am* to defend our steps. A Call To Arms for what is right. If we can form a human chain of Birds jerseys across the steps to ruin these asshat’s day 9 hours before kickoff then we have done our jobs and defended our city. A non-violent protest of sorts not seen since Tienanmen Square or the Reveal Neil movement. A pregame before the tailgate and the kickoff. I’ll bring the police tape and the flasks filled with Grandpa’s Old Cough Medicine, you bring the heart and desire of the city. Possible some Viva signs as well. Turn the Who Dats into Who Shats.
And there’s some saving grace that if we get arrested at least there’s a decent shot we will be booked and bailed out by 8pm kickoff.
*Live 5 blocks away and am seriously considering sitting in front of the Rocky Statue in a lawn chair and a shotgun all night like a senile old man guarding his farm if anyone wants to join. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I understand now why I am single.