High Noon in Philadelphia

“Do you ever think we’ll see another Philadelphia athlete ride off into the sunset?”

My buddy Rob asked me that after they announced that Allen Iverson’s locker had been cleared out.  It’s a fair question.

The Answer was finally traded this week, to Denver for a journeyman point guard, an expiring contract, and two late draft picks, but the Iverson era in Philly ended well before any deal was made:  specifically, when the Sixers removed the nameplate from AI’s locker -- and then erased him from the pre-game highlight reel.  At that point, the only questions about his departure were whose Answer he would become, and whether it was too early to start salivating over Greg Oden.

But as painful as this breakup has been -- sure, maybe we couldn’t see eye-to-eye the last few years, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t have something special together once, or that we won’t feel conflicted when we see highlights of him wearing somebody else’s uniform and hugging somebody else’s power forward -- we should be used to this sort of thing by now.

When Julius Erving announced his retirement before the 1986-1987 season, it kicked off the Dr. J retirement tour not just in Philadelphia, but across the league, as the Doctor was showered with gifts and hosannas from October ‘til April.

Since then, it’s been a long series of awkward partings.

Mike Schmidt retired 42 games into the 1989 season, batting .203 and forced to make the teary admission that he didn’t have it anymore -- and that was probably the best goodbye we’ve had.

Charles Barkley -- traded.  Curt Schilling -- traded. Reggie White -- gone to free agency.

Randall Cunningham -- unceremoniously “retired” in 1995, then unretired to play for the Vikings, Ravens, and most disgracefully, Dallas.  Scott Rolen -- traded.  Eric Lindros -- well, it’s best not to bring him up.

Even Ron Jaworski, as beloved in Philly now as he ever was when he played for the Eagles, didn’t retire as an Eagle -- he slogged through two post-Eagles years, one in Miami backing up Dan Marino, and another in Kansas City sharing time with Steve DeBerg and Steve Pelluer.

Not a single MVP-caliber athlete that has played in Philadelphia since the Doctor has left on a high note.  With Iverson’s departure now official, we’re running out of options.

There’s no obvious candidate on the Sixers, at least until Greg Oden arrives.  Had the Flyers hung onto Peter Forsberg instead of dealing him for Lindros, he’d be a possibility, but now that he’s back, he looks unlikely to stay long, or to win anything while he’s here.

Donovan McNabb could make it happen, if he can ever stay healthy for a full season again. Brian Westbrook belongs in the conversation, if the Birds ever make a commitment to the run, but as long as McNabb is in Philly, he’ll always get the majority of the spotlight’s glare.  Brian Dawkins is a guy Philly fans truly love, but free safeties don’t win MVPs.

Right now, our best hope lies with Ryan Howard.  And if you think Phillies fans don’t get twitchy every time Howard’s paltry 2006 salary gets mentioned, you don’t know Philly fans.

Because we booed Santa Claus almost 40 years ago -- and, you know, maybe a few others along the way -- we’ve been saddled ever since with something of a bad reputation.

But while it’s true we don’t suffer losing lightly, the secret of Philadelphia fans is that we just want somebody to love -- and to love us back.  We didn’t care that Curt Schilling or Charles Barkley mouthed off -- not only was their game-day effort unquestioned, but they appreciated that we cared enough to boo, and we loved them for that.  Even today, fans talk about those two in reverent tones, the ones that got away.

Heck, Dick Vermeil burned out on the Eagles more than 20 years ago, won a Super Bowl for somebody else, and his face is still on billboards all over Philadelphia.

It’s not just a marketing slogan:  Philly really is the city that loves you back.

Which is why that question -- will we ever see another Philadelphia athlete ride off into the sunset? -- is so depressing for a fan base already struggling with a soul-numbing championship drought.  We’re disproportionately excited about Ryan Howard’s MVP award because we think we might not.

Admittedly, it’s hard to even conceptualize Iverson and sunsets, and there’s no doubt that the modern era of sports will continue to make the kind of satisfying, one-career, one-franchise, one-time retirement celebrations we saw from guys like Elway, Ripken, and Gwynn more and more rare.  But while we might not be so different from other towns these days on that account, it doesn’t make Philly fans, with our tortured psyche and bad reputation, want that kind of relationship any less.

You know that sitcom, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia?”  That title’s no joke -- the way things are going right now, being a sports fan in Philly is like being in Alaska in June:  after a while, you start wondering if you’ll ever see another sunset again.