I Went to Philly for the Super Bowl and Survived!
GO BIRDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I almost didn’t go to Philly during Super Bowl weekend.
My growing financial insecurity peaked in January and, while new client accounts were rolling in, it would take at least a month to see those payments. Plus, I still needed to replenish my savings account and pay off my credit card.
As we all know now, that didn’t happen.
“You’d be having a much worse time with me today if I didn’t go,” I told my therapist the Tuesday after the Eagles won the Super Bowl.
It was a thought I held all weekend, one that was especially loud during my most joyful moments.
“I can’t believe I almost didn’t go,” I repeated to Dave so many times I’m certain his patience was tested beyond its limits.
After hearing me wax poetic about my love for Philly all weekend, he said “You should spend a month here in August when you can save some money. It makes you happy.”
Philly does make me happy and, even though I will choose to be close to my nephew every single time, I’m still perpetually homesick for the city I once called home.
That’s why this weekend was so special—few people knew I was a visitor.
If you’re on the Birds’ side, it’s good enough
I didn’t think anyone could pull me away from my Detroit sports teams, particularly basketball and hockey.
Growing up in Metro Detroit, I cut out Pistons and Red Wings clips from the newspaper sports section and taped them everywhere. My parents loved it, I’m sure. And, while the Lions and Tigers didn’t steal my heart the way Grant Hill and a dead octopus on center ice did, they still had my allegiance.
Until Philadelphia bullied me into switching teams.
The city has a reputation for bullying, so it’s no surprise I went from an ‘OK, if I have to…’ Lions fan to a fully bleeding-green, E-A-G-L-E-S-chanting maniac.
I have my friends Monique and Olivia to thank for the (very loving) bullying. The Philadelphia Eagles literally saved Monique’s life—which I interviewed her about here—and Olivia is a proud Philly native. When I finally took the green plunge, they were ecstatic.
This is what I love most about Philly sports fans. They just want you to be part of the fun. They don’t need to know how long you’ve been a fan or how many players you know. If you’re on the Birds’ side, it’s good enough.
Growing up outside Detroit was the opposite experience, unfortunately. The fans, at least to me, don’t care for casual enjoyers. If you can’t list the starting lineup, well, you don’t deserve to be there. I’m also positive that my gender fueled these sentiments but we’ll put that away to deconstruct for another essay.
That’s why I stopped following the Pistons and the Red Wings so passionately—fans (all men, which is important to note) were cruel for no reason. I gave my all to two Detroit sports teams and was shut out because a little girl who could ball was too much for the fanbase to handle.
But you know who didn’t shut me out? Philadelphians.
We’re going to the Super Bowl!
Dave requested Super Bowl weekend off work in November, that’s how confident he was that the Birds would secure an appearance. I was hopeful, however, I made space for an equally exciting Lions Super Bowl.
After losing my job, my dog and getting hit with loads of other personal strife I absolutely do not want share here, I needed the Eagles to go to the Super Bowl. A Super Bowl appearance meant I could count on community and camaraderie encompassing me, something I desperately needed.
For three months, I hid from everyone and sat in my sadness. If anything could pull me out, it’s the magic that happens when Philly comes together.
We secured our tickets to Philly when the Eagles won their snowy match against the Rams on Jan. 19. We looked up flights and found two direct, round-trip flights out of Detroit for $100.
“But Lindsay, don’t you live in Grand Rapids?”
I do and guess what. It’s expensive af to fly out of GR’s perfectly maintained airport!
The trip out was exhausting, with my car overheating halfway into a two-hour drive. We topped off my coolant and drove to the airport very carefully, sat in the air for an hour, landed and… sat on the tarmac for nearly 90 minutes because a man got too turnt up at the Philadelphia International Airport and needed police (ACAB, btw) escort. The clock read 2:20 a.m. by the time I settled in to go to sleep.
With travel stress triggering my chronic pain, I kept a low profile on Friday. I planned to call up some pals but my eye was on the prize, and the prize was actin’ a-fool with my Philly brethren.
Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!
The plan worked and my body performed to the best of its ability on Sunday—just like the Eagles. Choosing rest wasn’t the only good decision I made that day. Knowing we were entering an open-bar situation, I started hydrating at 8:30 a.m. By noon, I’d reached my recommended daily ounces.
The aforementioned Olivia invited us over for brunch, which was pancakes with a side of hash browns, all made by her talented partner, Lex. We all primed our stomachs for later, as Olivia and Lex were hosting a watch party at their house.
After brunch, Dave and I walked around for a few hours, slowly making our way from South Philly to Center City. Dave, who ventured out solo a few times while I caught up with friends, wanted to recreate the feeling of living in the city all weekend. I think he succeeded.
As we were walking, I realized I could not stop smiling. There is something uniquely uplifting about multiple people yelling “GO BIRDS” at you. For one day, our only enemy was one we all shared: Patrick Mahomes.
At 4:30, we squared up at Finn McCool’s, a block off Broad Street. We decided to go all in and buy tickets for the night. Most bars were ticketing tables for the game, with some going as high as $1,000. We spent $175 per person, which included cheesesteaks and an open bar. Shout-out to the staff for accommodating me with a really great veggie burger.
There was a psychic energy all weekend. The city just knew its team was going to win. Feb. 9 doesn’t just represent the Super Bowl. Season standouts Saquon Barkley and Cooper DeJean both celebrate their birthdays that day, making the day extra special. We would not accept anything less than a win for our birthday boys.
So, when DeJean made his incredible pick 6 play, it signaled a potentially stress-free game—a concept Eagles fans don’t understand, making the game even more electric. People started pouring out of bars before the game ended, that’s how guaranteed this win was for the Birds.
We spent enough time in Center City to enjoy the excitement and headed South when the crowd started bottlenecking. I loved watching the celebration, however, I’ve always been hyperaware of my size in large crowds. One wrong push and it’s over. I’m grateful Dave recognized my predicament and used his body to help block any shoves from reaching me.
We walked back in awe, eyes darting everywhere and high-fives a-flyin’. “GO BIRDS” choruses littered the air, all mushing together to form indiscriminate noise. It was great!
Knowing we had a morning flight to catch the next day, we didn’t stay out as long as we could’ve if we pushed our visit out another day. That’s what a $50 round-trip ticket gets you, so I can’t complain.
It’s now Thursday and I still feel the energy from Sunday.
I also can’t believe I almost didn’t go.
(Almost) all the messages I received concerning my well-being
I made the post! This whole thing made me smile. I’m so glad you went and you got to have this experience. Watching the people I love, do the things they love, makes me feel like I got to do it too!