What it’s like to cover Eagles fans in Philly after a Super Bowl win

Shortly after 1 a.m. Monday, as I was wrapping up my coverage of Eagles fans in Philly following the Birds’ win in Super Bowl LIX, I saw flames rising in the middle of Market Street and became caught in a throng of people running from the fire.

Once I broke free from the crowd, I realized the flames were fueled by towels ransacked from a moving truck that got stuck on Market Street near 12th when the game ended and people poured into the streets. The truck was subsequently commandeered by Eagles fans who climbed into its cab, jumped onto its roof, and partied in the back.

After finding the white towels in the truck’s cargo area, the revelers threw them into the crowd like confetti. I saw a few people use the towels as blankets that frigid night, before some jabroni decided to turn them into kindling.

“Damn it, Philly,” I mumbled.

This wanton vandalism and dangerous destruction is the worst of our fan celebrations, and what I like least about covering them.

But it’s not most of our fan celebrations, not even close. In the hours before, I saw strangers dancing and singing together, I talked to people filled with unbridled joy, and I saw Philly’s creative weirdo side on full display.

I remember hoping that the fire wasn’t going to overshadow everything else — in my own memory or in the minds of those who are quick to cast judgments about Philadelphia, but do little to understand why those of us here love it so much.

And then, Philly did its thing.

Someone in a Batman mask wearing a bedsheet for a cape calmly walked by me through the smoke like it was just another day in Gotham City. Shortly after, a woman who also witnessed the fire started chatting with me.

“I ain’t gonna lie, that sh— was warm though,” she said.

I cracked up. Nobody does gallows humor better than Philly, just like nobody celebrates quite like we do. That’s because we know what tough times are and what gets you through them, just like we know to celebrate the good times when they’re here too.

When the Eagles won their first Super Bowl in 2018, I walked with fans from Xfinity Live! up Broad Street to City Hall and back, a little more than seven miles, round trip.

I saw people sobbing in each other’s arms, received more high fives than I ever have in my life, watched neighbors dancing in the street, and heard folks banging their pots and pans together.

I wasn’t just a reporter that night, I was a part of an inexplicable, unified joy that left no person in Philly behind, even those of us who had to work. It was one of the few times I’ve truly felt like part of something bigger than myself and I will never forget it.

But as I made my way from deep South Philly, where the celebrations were pretty family-friendly, and got closer to City Hall, things got real weird, real quick.

I saw folks trashing and robbing a gas station, people running around with orange cones on their heads (which proved difficult, given they couldn’t see out of them), and when I went to interview one fan, he pulled his pants down, unprovoked. Luckily, he was wearing shorts underneath and just wanted to show me he’d tattooed “F— TOM BRADY” on his thigh.

As I’ve covered subsequent fan celebrations, I’ve seen them get wilder, especially when it comes to the dangerous tradition of pole climbing.

When the Phillies won the NLCS in 2022, I watched Sean “Shrimp” Hagan climb a pole and shotgun seven cans of Twisted Tea thrown to him by the crowd (a few almost hit my head). To his credit, at some point Hagan realized he was too drunk to get down safely and waited for firefighters to bring a ladder.

“I kind of felt like a cat, honestly,” he later told me.

A union carpenter, Hagan went to work the next day.

“People call me crazy, but that’s Philly,” he said. “We’re wild, we’re crazy, but as long as we go to work the next morning, we’re good.”

While I don’t condone his actions, what struck me about Hagan is something I like about Philadelphians in general, their unabashed honesty and willingness to own up to what they do.

The crowds at the celebrations have also grown. When I covered fans after the Eagles NFC win on Jan. 26, it was the most dense mass of people I’ve ever been in, anywhere. I tried to stay on the edge, but I made a wrong turn somewhere, got stuck in the crowd, and was unable to move.

I was so closely surrounded by people it took me a second to realize some creep wrapped both of his arms around my waist. I elbow chopped him off and pushed my way out.

Another big concern I have are the fireworks set off in crowds by people so drunk they shouldn’t even be allowed to wield a BIC lighter. It’s not always easy to tell where they’re being launched from and this year, people were also walking around or hanging from poles holding out tubes that shoot multiple fireworks.

For the most part though, these celebrations are joyous, and seeing a place you love happy — just like seeing a person you love happy — is incredible.

This Super Bowl, I was one of eight Inquirer journalists spread across Philly who supplied quotes from fans and descriptions of merriment and mayhem to our colleague, master wordsmith Anthony R. Wood. He weaved them all together with feeds from three other colleagues, plus one at the Super Bowl and one visiting Germany to create our fan story. The Inquirer also had three photographers and two videographers capturing the city.

I was stationed at City Hall, where I met Lou Rodriguez, 32, of North Philly, who had tears in his eyes after watching what he called a “masterpiece” of a game.

“This will help the city out for the rest of the year. It will be nothing but love and motivation here,” he said.

Taryn Wood, 25, of Fairmount, shared a similar sentiment.

“Finally, we have a place in this whole country that is united,” she said.

In a city often divided by race, wealth, and politics, a sports championship win brings people together here in a way that nothing else does. Do I wish we were this united over gun violence, human rights, school funding, or a host of other issues instead? More than anything, but that’s not the world or the city we live in and we have to take the small wins — along with the big ones — when we can.

As Super Bowl night went on, Philly’s creative weirdo side came out to play. I saw someone in a Sasquatch suit tossing an Eagles football, a guy dressed as Ben Franklin pouring shots of Bird Gang whiskey into people’s mouths, and a woman dressed in a green St. Patrick costume.

There were also people in full-body eagle outfits, a few in hungry dog masks, someone dressed as Spider-Man, at least one green Mummers suit, and a guy in a banana costume.

Of course it’s not a party until Philly Elmo and the Positive Movement drum line show up, which they did, and I also saw Paul Vile, a.k.a. “Jelloman,” crowd surfing in a shopping cart while slingshotting his Jell-O shots to the masses.

I saw things I’d like to forget too. I’m still befuddled by the guy who took a knee on Broad Street to take a leak. Like, dude, why are you doing this here but also, why are you taking a knee cause it’s gonna be covered in urine, if it isn’t already.

Despite the mayor’s pleas and police officers’ attempts to protect the poles in Philly, fans still found a way to climb them, as they always do. And even though officials removed the roof of a bus shelter fans fell through in 2023 following the Eagles NFC win, people still found a way to climb on top of that, too.

At one point, a fan took one of the metal barricades and fashioned it into a ladder to get on top of the bus shelter. I don’t condone it, but I can’t deny his Philly ingenuity either.

I’m seven years older than when I covered the Eagles’ first Super Bowl win and let me tell you, I hurt way more the next morning this year. It took me a while to realize the abdominal soreness I’m experiencing was from getting pushed around in the crowds, because I definitely haven’t done any sit-ups lately.

There’s a reason a vast majority of people who celebrate on the streets of Center City are in their late teens, 20s, or early 30s — they have more stamina and a shorter recovery time than the rest of us. I’m not sure how many more of these events I have left in me, but I’m glad I got to report on them while I could because I got to know Philly better.

At a news conference Tuesday about the Super Bowl parade, Eagles President Dom Smolenski urged journalists not to focus on those who cause trouble but to highlight the fans who celebrated with “joy and love,” like the people filmed lifting up a man who uses a wheelchair so he could overlook the crowds on Broad Street.

I don’t disagree with Smolenski — and my colleagues and I do highlight the joy — but we’re journalists, not public relations specialists. We can’t and won’t ignore negative events, especially ones we witness.

Cities, like people, are full of dichotomies, and when you really love one, you acknowledge and accept the bad parts, too, because no person or place is perfect.

But sometimes, Philly comes pretty darn close.

As far as why I cover these celebrations, I think a fan I saw lie down on Broad Street Sunday night with his arms open wide said it best.

“I’m just taking it all in.”