Last night my Phillies won it all. Philadelphia is a tough working class city that loves its sports teams. The Eagles, Sixers, Flyers and Phillies are for many what keep them going through the months, weeks, days, and where people turn to find motivation and inspiration when things in their lives may not be as they would like. For the whole World Series it really pissed me off that these dildo announcers kept talking about Tampa Bay and it was obvious they wanted nothing to do with the Phillies. But then I remembered what hometown hero Philly boxer Bernard Hopkins, who grew up two blocks from me in Philly, said two weeks ago after an upset over Kelly Pavlik:
“Ninety percent of the media said that I'd lose the fight, with many believing that I'd get knocked out. It's the naysayers-I need them. If I don't have them, I won't fight to my best ability. I need to have people against me."
"Hopkins' path to greatness started on the streets, where knockouts meant trouble, not multimillion-dollar pay-per-view fights. He became involved in street crime and faced 18 years of prison time for multiple offenses when he was just 17. Hopkins said after he was released at 22, with nine years of parole looming, he left the prison as a rejuvenated man and was motivated by those who told him it would be impossible to get through those nine years without going back. To this day, he still gets satisfaction out of knowing they were wrong." (Philly Inquirer)
It is this scrappy, under dog, tough nosed, heart and balls, all day errry day philosophy that extends well beyond sports, it is what I base my life on. I am proud to be from Philly baby.