Sielski: Does Wentz know what he's in for in Philly?

So we're at a big playground in suburban Philadelphia. Labor Day. Gorgeous. Carefree. Kids running everywhere. Kids screaming as their friends chase them. Kids screaming for mommies and daddies. Parents standing with their arms folded. Parents with their faces buried in their phones. One dad is wearing a gray T-shirt with a Pittsburgh Steelers logo on the front. Another dad - gray hair trimmed short, chest puffed, muscled arms stiff at his sides - notices the shirt.

"Hey," he shouts to Steelers Guy, moving his hand up and down his own chest, "you've got something on your shirt."

Steelers Guy looks down and grins sheepishly. It's obvious to him and to anyone watching them. Puffed Chest is an Eagles fan.

"Yeah," Steelers Guy says gently, "a winning team."

Puffed Chest doesn't like this answer. His response comes with a glare in his eyes and an edge in his voice.

"You'd better return that gift, my friend."

Steelers Guy shakes his head and walks away. Satisfied, Puffed Chest does, too.

I watched this entire exchange, and hand to God, I asked myself a question.

Does Carson Wentz know what he's in for here?

Everyone in Philadelphia loves Carson Wentz right now. The Eagles - particularly their front-office members and coaches - certainly do. They go on and on about him. They praise his arm and his athleticism and his intelligence. They run out of words to compliment him.

"I can't emphasize how smart this guy is," Eagles offensive coordinator Frank Reich said Thursday. "He is off-the-charts smart, just plain smart-like smart, smart. But on top of that, the football I.Q. and the acumen are just way high - way, way high."

All of this lofty praise has helped to raise excitement about Wentz's debut Sunday against the Browns, and to raise expectations for him, too, at least among Eagles fans. Some of the excitement is natural. Wentz is the brand new thing, and he's an unknown, really. There's that single preseason game he played against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Otherwise, he's a blank canvas to those who live for the Eagles. What they know is what they can't see. They read write-ups and tweets about Wentz's throws during training camp and practices. They hear coach Doug Pederson, when asked if he plans to scale back the offensive game plan Sunday because it's Wentz's first game, say: "I don't want to harness that ability to throw the ball down the field. Again, I think we are capable of doing that. He's good at doing that."

It's been remarkable, really, how little the Eagles have done to ease Wentz into becoming their starting quarterback. Publicly, they're not tempering anything. In one sense, it's not that surprising. By trading Sam Bradford, they went from ostensibly competing for a division title to admitting (in deeds, if not words) that they had begun rebuilding. But there are bills still to pay and seats still to fill, so they are selling the fresh, the different, the potentially great. That's Wentz. It's understandable, and it's possible that Wentz is every bit the prodigy they are billing him to be.

But in another sense, it's puzzling. The Eagles have lauded Wentz for his personality. They say he fits right in with the guys, that he has a veteran's self-assurance, and they accept these intangibles as evidence that he will handle the pressure of playing in the NFL - in front of perhaps the most demanding fans in America - without trouble. Except the same things would have been said, and were said, about Donovan McNabb in 1999, and he did not always handle the pressure, the inevitable negative feedback, all that well.

And Wentz is coming from as friendly and stress-free a football environment as a prospective franchise quarterback could hope for. He was a god in Fargo and at North Dakota State, the kid who was too good to be true. But in Philadelphia, there are no gods. In Philadelphia, everyone has a plan until he gets booed, and everyone gets booed - especially those athletes who have high expectations affixed to them and, for whatever reason and for whatever length of time, fail to meet them - and the mystery with any athlete here is how he deals with the inevitable.

Go back to Puffed Chest on the playground. He's not someone who wants the Eagles to win and hopes Wentz develops into a superstar. He needs those things to happen. His identity is bound up in their happening. He sees another guy wearing the apparel of another NFL team - a team that has been far more successful over time than the Eagles - and he can't abide it. This is supposed to be an Eagles safe space, and Steelers Guy has invaded it. How dare he. And around here, Puffed Chest is not atypical. Listen to the people who call the talk-radio stations. Read the online comments on any article or blog post about the Eagles. Notice, as the local cliche goes, the difference between the city's collective mood after an Eagles victory and the mood after an Eagles loss. If Wentz goes through growing pains as a new NFL quarterback, how patient do you think Puffed Chest and those like him are going to be?

We all know the answer. What we don't know, no matter what the Eagles or anyone else says, is how Carson Wentz will respond. We'll start finding out Sunday. So good luck, kid. Just be perfect, and you won't have to worry.

msielski@phillynews.com

@MikeSielski