The Fishtown burger that broke Philly internet | Weekly Report Card

Philly’s favorite running path is at it again. A “chasm”-sized sinkhole has swallowed part of the Schuylkill River Trail between Race and JFK — big enough, officials say, that you could almost park a car in it. (“Almost” feels like a challenge.)

The Schuylkill Banks crew fenced it off and called in Parks & Rec, the Water Department, and engineers — basically the full Avengers lineup of Philly infrastructure — to figure out what caused the hole and how to patch it before joggers start treating it like a new obstacle course.

The Schuylkill Trail might be cursed. Every year it’s something — floods, fallen trees, now this. Until it’s fixed, cyclists and runners are being detoured, which in Philly terms means “good luck.”

Somehow, the New York Times looked at Delco — home of Villanova, Swarthmore, and approximately 47 Wawas — and decided, “Ah yes, rural America.” Because nothing says “farm country” like the Blue Route at rush hour and a Target every three miles.

To be fair, Task creator Brad Ingelsby does paint parts of Delco as working-class, gritty, and hollowed-out, which, yeah, that’s real. But “rural”? Come on. The county has fewer farms than vape shops. The only livestock most Delco residents see are on a roast pork sandwich.

Still, the show does get something right: that weird in-between space so many towns around Philly live in — not city, not country, just post-industrial limbo where people are hustling to hang on. It’s not the backwoods. It’s just… us. Blue-collar, blunt, and way too online to ever be called rural again.

For America’s 250th, Philly’s not settling for a parade — we’re throwing a 52-week-long brag about how we basically invented everything. Every week in 2026 will spotlight something that started here: the first hospital, zoo, flag, computer, hot-air balloon, even the penitentiary (because nothing says “city of firsts” like also being the first to lock people up).

It’s peak Philly — proud, weird, and wildly specific. Some of these firsts are legitimately world-changing (first medical school, first abolitionist society), while others are pure “only in Philly” energy (first Slinky, first ice-cream soda). The lineup’s got range. We went from inventing democracy to inventing dessert.

Philly might’ve given the world democracy, the cheesesteak, and now… “six-seven,” a phrase that means absolutely nothing and somehow everything to a generation of teens who can’t stop saying it. It possibly started with Kensington rapper Skrilla’s song “Doot Doot (6 7)” and spiraled into TikToks, classrooms, and apparently South Park.

It’s not code, it’s not deep — it’s just two numbers. Maybe it’s a street, maybe it’s a mindset, maybe it’s proof that the internet’s broken our brains. Teachers hate it, parents are confused, and kids are out here saying “six-seven” like it’s a personality trait.

Still, if you hear it echoing down Broad Street, just nod and say it back. Six-seven. Whatever that means.

Philly drama doesn’t get juicier than this. Someone plastered a flyer around Fishtown calling out Two Robbers for serving a sad, gray burger — complete with a date stamp and the caption, “This is literally the burger that came out.” Reddit, of course, lost its mind.

Comments ranged from pure joy (“I f***in love love love this level of petty”) to the perfectly Philly (“This is what you get for ordering a burger at a craft seltzeria”). One guy even chimed in with, “They got robbed — by two robbers.” Another declared the poster was “doing the Lord’s work.”

But plot twist: the burger wasn’t theirs. The photo was actually from 9GAG, posted seven years ago under the title “Nasty Burger.” The owner jumped into Reddit like a man defending his honor, posting receipts side-by-side — the fake, the meme, and their actual burger, which, to be fair, looks great — and calling the whole stunt “diabolical.”

Now the thread’s full of conspiracy theories that the whole thing was a genius marketing stunt (“If it is, it worked on me”) and locals promising to stop by just to try the burger. So whether this was sabotage, performance art, or Philly’s pettiest PR move — Burgergate proves one thing: in this town, we don’t do calm, we do chaos. And we’ll probably Yelp about it after.

Philly’s loudest legend just couldn’t stay away. After seven whole months of “retirement,” Brandon Graham is back in midnight green for his 16th season, saying he’s still got “juice left.” The Eagles desperately needed both sacks and smiles, and no one brings either like BG.

At 37, rookies call him “the OG,” veterans call him the engine, and everyone calls him the guy who won’t stop talking in practice. “You thought you wasn’t gonna have to deal with me?” he said on his podcast. That’s the guy who strip-sacked Brady — not a man easing into retirement.

And honestly? The timing couldn’t be better. Missed tackles, blown assignments, no spark — the Eagles’ defense has been ugly. BG can’t fix everything, but he can sure as hell remind the Birds what fight looks like.

In a city that loves to say it’s all about bikes, buses, and tree-lined streets, somehow 2025 has turned into the Year of the Parking Garage. Three new standalone garages are in the works — in Fishtown, University City, and Grays Ferry — because apparently we looked at the skyline and thought, “You know what’s missing? More concrete boxes for cars.”

Developers say people need somewhere to park near all the shiny new apartments, but urbanists are screaming into their reusable coffee cups. We’re talking a 1,000-car garage from CHOP (in a neighborhood already struggling with air quality), a 495-space one in University City (for a city lab and staff), and a Fishtown “garage-with-a-view” that’s trying to make rooftop parking sound sexy.

Parking pros say it’s a losing game — sky-high taxes, slim profits, and way too many empty spaces already. Even Parkway Corp. and E-Z Park, the kings of concrete, have looked at the numbers and said, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”

It’s the most Philly thing ever: everyone agrees it’s a bad idea, but someone’s still building it.

Nobody in Philly was expecting the Sixers to look this good out the gate. Rookie VJ Edgecombe dropped 34 points in his debut — the third-highest in NBA history — and helped the Sixers steal a 117-116 win over the Celtics. That’s right: Wilt, LeBron, and now a 20-year-old kid who apparently sleeps like a baby before facing Boston in the Garden.

Edgecombe didn’t just show up — he looked like he’d been here for years. Calm, confident, and already saying the kind of humble stuff that makes you want to buy his jersey before Christmas. Tyrese Maxey poured in 40, and even his gentle clowning (“77 definitely got scared at the free-throw line”) couldn’t hide the fact that Philly might actually have a backcourt worth believing in.

It’s still early, but this team has something it hasn’t had in forever: fun. For once, the Sixers aren’t pretending to be contenders — they’re just hooping. No melodrama, no birthday banners about Daryl Morey being a liar, no Teletubby coats. Just fast breaks, fresh legs, and a rookie who already has his name next to Wilt’s.

We’ve been hurt before, so no one’s saying “This is the year.” But after one game, it’s hard not to feel a little something.