PHILADELPHIA — The long local nightmare is over. James Harden has arrived. Ben Simmons has left. And if you’ve paid any attention to social media and the currents and eddies of public discussion about the 76ers-Nets trade that shook the NBA last week, you know that, once more, a Philadelphia-related story of national interest has followed a familiar pattern. It has devolved, thanks to Simmons’ claims that he suffered from mental-health issues, into a cliched and tiresome debate over whether fans here create a particularly toxic environment for athletes and coaches.
The debate is tiresome for a lot of reasons, the biggest of which is that, once the rhetorical flourishes start flying, you know a lazy Santa Claus reference isn’t far off. But mostly it’s tiresome because it gets so polarized so quickly. Either Philadelphia is an emotional hellfire from which only the toughest athletes emerge without psychosomatic trauma, or Simmons is the wimpiest wimp who ever wimped out of anything, and any suggestion otherwise besmirches a great and devoted fan base guilty only of holding those with the greatest of expectations to the highest of standards. The truth, naturally, is somewhere between those two poles.
Is Philadelphia a tough place to play?
Of course.
Is it possible for an athlete to thrive here?
Of course.
So in the interest of helping Harden and any and all future trade acquisitions, free-agent signees, draft picks, and coaching hires negotiate the minefield of Philly sports culture, here is a handy cheat sheet that explains how to win over Philly fans. Follow these recommendations and guidelines, and they’ll be building statues of you along Broad Street and Roosevelt Boulevard in no time.
— Stroke the fans’ ego. During his memorable Super Bowl parade speech in 2018, Jason Kelce bonded with Eagles fans by referencing a chant popular among soccer fanatics: “No one likes us. We don’t care.” But that line was maybe the only inaccurate thing that Kelce said that day. Philly fans do care what outsiders, especially those who reach a nationwide audience, say about them. They care a lot. They want to be told they’re tough and passionate and awesome and wonderful. The slyest thing that Harden said at his introductory press conference Tuesday was this: “These fans are probably the best fans in the NBA.” Either someone prepped him well, or he had already done his homework.
— Wear Phanatic-themed baseball cleats. Or Swoop-themed football cleats. Or Franklin-themed sneakers. Avoid Gritty-themed skates. As Cosmo Kramer would say, Gritty is played. Soooo playyyyed.
— Sign an endorsement deal with Wawa. Shoot a commercial that shows you enjoying a Wawa hoagie.
— Then, post a video on Instagram that shows you enjoying a real hoagie.
— To Harden: The first time there’s a loose ball near you, dive face-first to the floor and slide on your belly across the hardwood to try to grab it. Or, if the ball is bouncing toward the sideline, jump into the stands to try to save it. Yes, diving to the floor will hurt. Yes, leaping into the laps of several spectators could lead to an ACL tear and a personal-injury lawsuit from an opportunistic season-ticket holder. Here’s the thing, though: You only have to do it once. Once will be enough to win everyone over.
— Don’t call Philly fans “front-runners,” even though they are. Jimmy Rollins did that in 2008, pointing out that “when you’re doing good, they’re on your side. When you’re doing bad, they’re completely against you.” The remark caused him more trouble than it was worth, but he was right. The Phillies, mediocre or worse for more than a decade, have ranked in the bottom half of the National League in home attendance seven of the last eight years. When the Sixers initiated “The Process” in 2013 and started tanking, their home attendance plummeted. The Wells Fargo Center is a cavern most nights now that the Flyers are struggling to stay out of last place.
This dynamic often gets framed as evidence of fans’ commitment: that they want to win so badly that they can’t bring themselves to show up or pay attention when their favorite teams aren’t competitive or interesting. We’re not indifferent. We’re angry. And our anger shows how much we care. But what it really demonstrates is that, around here, fans’ loyalty is conditional, which means they’re not exhibiting genuine loyalty. It brings to mind an old story about a politician who, while on the campaign trail, hears from one of his constituents: “Hey, we’re with you as long as you’re right.”
“If I’m right,” the politician responded, “I don’t need you.”
— Understand that you will never, ever, be as popular here as Nick Foles is. That’s OK. It gives you something to shoot for.
— Pay homage to the past. Wear a Dr. J tank top or a Randall Cunningham throwback. Tip a cap to the heroes who came before you. People here cherish their sports history. Villanova’s rise into a perennial national-championship contender under Jay Wright has pretty much turned the Big Five into an afterthought. The rivalries don’t have anywhere near the juice they once did. It would be easy to blame and condemn Wright for the decline of the City Series, but few around here do, in large part because Wright treasures those old rivalries himself and always makes a point of saying so.
— Google “Ricky Watters for who for what.”
— Google “Aaron Rowand catch.”
— Then, compare and contrast the results of those two Google searches.
— Mind your press conferences. Press conferences can make or break your reputation here. Press conferences made Buddy Ryan a legend and Gabe Kapler a bum. Press conferences kept people from fully appreciating Andy Reid and enhanced everyone’s admiration for and fascination with Allen Iverson. If you have a bad press conference, you can recover. Nick Sirianni did. But don’t make bad press conferences a habit. Andy MacPhail did.
— Emote. For details, see VERMEIL, DICK.
— If criticism — from fans, from media, from both — is starting to get to you, don’t complain about it publicly, and don’t try to hide from it. This was the big mistake that Simmons, Carson Wentz, and Donovan McNabb made. It doesn’t matter whether the criticism is unfair, as it was when McNabb was booed at the 1999 draft for not being Ricky Williams. And it doesn’t matter if the criticism was deserved, as it was when Wentz played terribly in 2020 or whenever Simmons was presented with an open jump shot or had to step to the free-throw line. Every athlete here gets criticized ... unless you’re Brian Dawkins or Chase Utley. Don’t whine about it, and don’t let people think you’re whining about it.
— Be up front and honest about your vulnerabilities and your efforts to work through them. If you are, people here will give you the benefit of the doubt. Sixers fans cheered Markelle Fultz every time he took a 3-pointer. Brandon Brooks and Lane Johnson were forthright about acknowledging their mental-health issues and received nothing but support.
— Show a common touch. Kelce chugs big cans of cheap beer. Joel Embiid plays tennis and pickup hoops on courts around the city. Eagles safety Anthony Harris learned of a girl whose father and grandfather had died suddenly, and he flew to Texas to escort her to her father-daughter dance. Let people know that you’re one of them, that you’re one of us.
— Try. Try your best. Make it obvious you’re trying your best. And if you’re not trying your best, try your best to make it look like you’re trying your best.
— Buy a Mummers costume.
— Then, buy another one.
