Philly is on a winning streak. The population of the city is growing for the first time in decades, buoyed by both immigrants and millennials in Center City drawn by the luxury of living, working and drinking within the same few blocks. The skyline is rapidly expanding on both sides of the Schuylkill, punctuated by the nearly complete Comcast tower, the tallest building in the city.
The biggest good news for Philadelphians, though, is that the Eagles are finally Super Bowl champions. Public schools closed for the victory parade in February. That’s when Jason Kelce, the team’s center, donned a bedazzled lime green costume lent to him by a Mummers brigade, a Philadelphia-specific kind of performance group made up mostly of blue-collar men. He hollered at the thousands of assembled fans about how a team of underdogs defied expectations by going for it with a trick play on 4th and 1 to win the championship.
“You know who the biggest underdog is?” he asked. He was speaking just feet from the statue of Rocky Balboa, one of fiction’s great underdogs. This is a town that lost both the capital of the United States and the home of the United Nations to New York, so there’s a bit of a chip on the civic shoulder. “It’s y’all, Philadelphia!” He then led the faithful in a profane chant that ended with, “Philly, no one likes us, we don’t care!”