LeBron James announced he was coming to Philadelphia. Within days, someone had intentionally sunburned a No. 23 jersey onto his back. That’s commitment.

A Delco man spent a day at the beach in Sea Isle using zinc sunscreen to leave behind a perfectly outlined “James 23” sunburn. His family thought he’d lost his mind, and beachgoers assumed he’d lost a bet. But later that night he got to proudly show it off at Ocean Drive like he’d just gotten fresh ink.

The man called it “Philly toughness” … sure. This is exactly why Philadelphia sports fans have the reputation we do. We climb poles, tattoo the Phanatic on our bellies, and name our dogs after backup quarterbacks. And now someone has a LeBron jersey they can’t take off for a week.

Thirty years is long enough for someone to become part of your routine without you even realizing it.

For decades, Cecily Tynan has been the person telling Philadelphia whether to grab a jacket, brace for a blizzard, or enjoy a sunny weekend. You hear the forecast while making dinner or before heading out the door and rarely stop to think about who’s delivering it.

Then one day, she announces she’s retiring.

Cecily Tynan leaving feels a little bigger than another broadcaster calling it a career because Action News is part of the city’s daily rhythm. Generations have eaten dinner while those familiar voices played in the background.

But it’s hard to argue with her reason. She’s retiring while she’s healthy enough to spend more time with her family, cheer at her daughter’s track meets, water ski in Florida, rescue animals, and, perhaps most shocking of all, cook Thanksgiving dinner for the first time instead of picking it up from Whole Foods.

First Jim Gardner. Now Cecily Tynan.

Good luck to whoever has to tell Philadelphia there’s snow coming next. Those are big rain boots to fill.

The new Reacher trailer opens with Jack Reacher fighting his way through a SEPTA station.

So, pretty realistic.

One of the best parts of watching a movie or TV show filmed in Philadelphia isn’t the plot. It’s playing, “I know where that is.”

The trailer delivers plenty of that. You get SEPTA stations, Market East, the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, Center City rooftops — Reacher himself even slams a guy’s head against an Inquirer vending box. We knew Reacher was filming here last summer but seeing the finished product is still oddly satisfying.

Maybe the action scenes will be great. Maybe the mystery will keep us hooked. But let’s be honest: Half of Philadelphia is going to spend every episode pointing at the TV and announcing exactly where they filmed it. (Bonus points if you can call out shots of Toronto masquerading as Philly.)

Every time John Kruk joins the Sunday Night Baseball broadcast, it feels like someone accidentally invited your funniest uncle to a black-tie wedding.

This week, the conversation somehow turned into Kruk admitting he doesn’t really own ties, that most of the ones he brought were clip-ons, and then struggled to button his collar while Joe Girardi and Jason Benetti narrated the ordeal like it was Game 7 of the World Series. At one point, Kruk declared facing Randy Johnson was easier than putting on the tie.

That’s why Philadelphia loves him.

Kruk makes millions of viewers feel like they’re sitting in the living room watching baseball with a friend who wandered in wearing whatever he found in the closet. He’s knowledgeable without acting like the smartest guy in the room, and he’s never afraid to laugh at himself.

Sure, NBC can put him in a jacket and hand him a tie, but they can’t make John Kruk stop being John Kruk.

Remember when Philadelphia was the city athletes were supposed to leave? Now, they’re choosing it.

LeBron James is the latest reminder that the biggest names in sports don’t just tolerate Philadelphia anymore — they want to play here. And once you start thinking about it, the list is pretty impressive: Bryce Harper, Saquon Barkley, Terrell Owens, Jim Thome, Cliff Lee, Dr. J, Eric Lindros, Moses Malone. Each arrival felt like a holiday. Not every move worked out perfectly. (Sorry, T.O.) But that’s beside the point.

For decades, Philadelphia fans carried around the idea that stars preferred bigger markets, warmer weather, or flashier franchises. We were the “underdogs.” Now, one of the greatest basketball players of all time looked around the NBA and decided he wanted to spend the final chapter of his career was South Philly. (We just have to convince him to move here now.)

A new comedy from the creator of Derry Girls is headed to FX, and it’s set in (and called) Wildwood.

Now comes the important part: Please film it there.

Hollywood has a habit of setting shows in one place and shooting them somewhere completely different. But Wildwood has too much personality to fake. The boardwalk, the neon motels, the tram car. If you’re going to call the show Wildwood, you have to earn it.

Besides, if The Four Seasons can film down the Shore and Reacher can turn Philadelphia into an action movie backdrop, there’s no reason this one can’t let Wildwood play itself.

If nothing else, we deserve a season of spotting familiar landmarks instead of arguing online, “That’s clearly not Jersey.”