I remember attending a Phillies game at Veteran’s Stadium in the late summer of 1997. I can’t remember the exact date, but suffice it to say the Phillies were long since out of contention for a post-season appearance. I sat with some friends in the left field stands, just to the third base side, enough so that I could still verbally harass players warming up in the bullpen and while trying to start a conversation with the leftfield ball girl. I can’t clearly remember the opponent, although I’m thinking it was Houston. I do, however, have a vivid recollection of downing four Philly Franks, consuming a truly heroic number of beers, and taunting the opposing leftfielder with several verbal jabs that even seemed to take the normally hostile Philadelphia crowd by surprise. Of course, my friends and I enjoyed every minute of it, even if none of us remembers the score or who won.

That’s Philadelphia for you, though. A fan’s enthusiasm is measured not just by how loud he or she cheers, but also in terms of beers drank, greasy food consumed and, of course, the harshness of insults one hurls at opposing players (or certain under-performing locals).

A lot of cities care about their sports teams. Some cities are even fanatical about them. But Philadelphia defines itself by its sports. And all that enthusiasm might not be so bad except the city hasn’t won a major championship in two decades.

But to simply judge Philadelphia’s sports scene by it’s rabid, if at times obnoxious fans, or lack of recent on-field success stories, would be unfair. You have to look at the big picture, at the city’s sports personality, so to speak. To put things in perspective, if a city’s sports landscape were to be defined in terms of an 80’s movie character, I would describe them as follows:

New York is like the flaxen-haired jock that dates the head cheerleader and plays the foil for the hero. Think Roy Stalin in “Better Off Dead” or Billy Zabka in “The Karate Kid.”

Boston would be Rodney Dangerfield in “Back to School” -- the off-color, crude, lovable loser, always complaining about a lack of respect, right up until they nail the “Triple Lindy” to win the big diving match.

But Philadelphia is an altogether different kind of character. Too irreverent to be considered likable, too colorful and -- let’s face it -- unsuccessful to be the bad guy. Philly’s more like Booger in “Revenge of the Nerds.” The kind of guy it’s fun to hang around with, but you’d never want to invite into your house.

The point is, while some cities can be easily characterized in terms of their sports, Philadelphia is in a class by itself.

Of course, the complexity of Philadelphia’s sports persona does not, in and of itself, make it a “great” sports city. The way I look at it, to be among the truly elite, a city must excel in a number of categories. It must be a five-tool player, if you will. Like Bobby Abreu, only better with men in scoring position.

So, the best way to see how Philly stacks up is to break it down scientifically. (Don’t worry, we won’t be doing any long division.) Let’s look at five essential categories of a great sports city – the teams, the fans, the arenas, the history and the “intangibles” -- and see if the City of Brotherly Love makes the grade.

THE TEAMS

Philadelphia boasts four major professional teams, a bevy of Division I colleges, and an arena football team owned by Bon Jovi. But if you ask most locals, there’s only one team that really matters – The Eagles.

I was sitting next to a Philly sports columnist at the Big East tournament last month and casually asked him if the city was getting excited about Villanova’s surprisingly successful season. “Sure,” he said. “Anything to kill a few more weeks until training camp starts.”

It’s hard to argue with that mentality though. Philadelphians haven’t had much to root for besides the Birds for quite a while. With the exception of lone finals appearances for the Phillies in 1993, the Flyers in ’97 and the 76ers in 2001, there’s been little excitement surrounding Philadelphia’s “other” teams since the mid-80s.

Of course, that wasn’t always the case. In 1980, all four of Philadelphia’s pro teams played in their league’s finals, although only the Phillies won it all. That 1980 season came amid a run of successful Phillies teams, led by Steve Carlton, Mike Schmidt and Pete Rose. But by 1984 the Phillies were in decline. Over the next few years Carlton was released, Rose moved on, and Schmidt retired. In their place came a bigger collection of castoffs and unwanted refuse than you’d find in an average scrapple breakfast. (For those of you not from Philly, scrapple is a local pork delicacy made up mostly of hooves and testicles.) And while Philly fans will fondly remember the successes of the 1993 season (the original “clubhouse of idiots,” sorry Boston), the likes of Von Hayes, Ricky Jordan and Tyler Green haven’t quite lived up to the legacy created in the early ‘80s.

The Flyers have met with a bit more success. They were the dominant team in the NHL in the 1970s, led by the toothless and merciless Bobby Clarke, now the team’s GM. They were a perennial playoff team throughout the 90s, as well, but never seemed to quite get over the hump, and by late-May, most Philadelphians were marking off the days on their calendar ‘til the Eagles broke camp.

Then there’s the 76ers. With Moses Malone, Dr. J, Mo Cheeks, et al, they were the class of the NBA in the early ‘80s. Then came the Charles Barkley era. If ever a player’s personality matched that of his city, Barkley and Philadelphia were it. He was outspoken, candid, and never afraid to call somebody out. But his act eventually wore thin with management and he was dealt to Phoenix in 1992 for Jeff Hornacek, five new balls and a case of Yuengling.

The next few years were a disaster in which the Sixers took several shots at “topping” their own league record for fewest wins in a season. With the arrival of Allen Iverson in 1996 things began to turn around. Moderate successes followed, but they still haven’t won the big one, and the switchboard at 610 WIP, Philly’s sports radio station, is lit up nearly every day from December through July with fans who think “The Answer” should be treated to a similar fate as Barkley.

When it comes to college hoops, however, Philly’s got it made. The “Big Five” remains one of the country’s oldest and most entertaining rivalries. The animosity between Penn, LaSalle, Villanova, St. Joe’s and Temple has been growing since 1955. John Chaney’s “goon” tactics against St. Joe’s this year was just the most recent example. And it was the Villanova Wildcats, under Rollie Massimino, that gave Philadelphia its last championship in 1985, a stunning upset over the heavily favored Georgetown Hoyas.

Since then, it’s been rough going for Philadelphians. Even their beloved Eagles, perhaps the second most successful team in the NFL during the past five years, have failed to bring home the big one, failing three straight years in the NFC Championship game and losing this year’s Superbowl. So it’s no wonder that the fans can be a little irritable from time to time. Which brings us to our next category…

THE FANS

We’ve already discussed some of the normal attributes of Philadelphia fans. There may not be a more surly, vocal group in the world. During some crucial NFC East games, there’s not much separating an Eagles crowd from a group of soccer hooligans. And that’s the way Philadelphians like it. They take pride in tormenting, angering and downright intimidating the competition.

Here’s some examples of a hearty Philly “welcome”…

- In 1999, fans cheered as Cowboys receiver Michael Irvin lay on the field for nearly 20 minutes after suffering a neck injury that, as it turned out, ended his career.

- During halftime of a late-December Eagles game, Birds fans pelted Santa Claus with a shower of snowballs as the not-so-jolly old elf paraded helplessly around the field. Not surprisingly, the Easter Bunny failed to make an appearance at a Phillies game that spring.

- And again in 1999, fans threw D batteries at St. Louis outfielder J.D. Drew, who was drafted by the Phillies the previous year, but turned down their generous contract offers and re-entered the draft.

In the fans defense, Drew probably had it coming to him. And D batteries costing what they do, you have to respect the fact that they didn’t skimp on projectiles just to save a few bucks.

Of course, it’s not always the opposition that incurs the wrath of Philly fans. The list of all-stars Philadelphians have run out of town is bigger than the population of some cities. Eric Lindros, Scott Rolen, Curt Schilling, Larry Bowa and Mitch Williams are among the heroes-turned-goats that “lost their Philly privileges,” as Marcellus Wallace would say.

But what you have to remember is, hate isn’t the opposite of love. Indifference is. When things go bad for teams in most cities, the fans simply evaporate. No wins means no support. But in Philly, the passion remains strong, win or lose. The only difference is, if you’re losing, you’re going to hear about it.

THE ARENAS

A lot has changed in Philadelphia recently. The city’s sports facilities have gotten a facelift that rivals anything Joan Rivers has had done. (Ugh. A Joan Rivers joke. I’m grasping at straws here. I’m approaching Leno levels. Sorry.)

The Spectrum, home to the Flyers and Sixers for nearly 30 years, opened in 1967, but by the mid-‘90s was undersized and run down, with all the aesthetic pleasure of my freshman year dorm room. It was replaced by the Wachovia Center in 1996, a new facility built in the same sports complex, just off I-95. While the Spectrum is still in use for arena football, concerts and the occasional swap meet, the bulk of Philly’s indoor events have moved next door.

The Wachovia Center has all the amenities of the modern indoor arena, but it does lack some of the charm of the Spectrum. The wider aisles and more comfortable seating are nice, but nothing builds fan unity like trying to eat a tray of nachos while squished up next to a surly, 250-pound Flyers fan.

Just to the north of Wachovia stands the new home of the Eagles, Lincoln Financial Field. “The Linc” seats just more than 68,000 and features more than 300 concession stands, assuring the throats of screaming Eagles fans are well lubricated with Budweiser at all times.

To the west stands Citizens Bank Park, the new home of the Phillies, which opened last season. The outfield stands frame a beautiful view of the city’s downtown skyline, the concourses are wide, allowing fans to view the game even while standing in line for a Philly Frank, and the natural grass field and old-time design give the stadium the look and feel of a classic turn-of-the-century ballpark.

And to the south sits a large empty lot, providing ample parking for fans. But until Citizens Bank opened, that parking lot was home to one of the country’s most infamous sports landmarks – Veteran’s Stadium.

The Vet was typical of the mid-‘60s designed, “cookie cutter” stadiums, symmetrical around the outfield, with drab, concrete décor and Astroturf that made the lawn on “The Brady Bunch” look natural. But the Vet was the home for true Philly fans for the better part of five decades, every bit an eyesore, but still an indelible part of what made Philadelphia sports great.

The most notorious seats in the Vet were the infamous “700 section.” The cheap seats that surrounded the top of the multi-purpose stadium became a haven for the most vocal and rambunctious fans. The inhabitants were like the Hell’s Angels of professional sports. If you wore an Eagles jersey there, you were one of them and entitled to all the protection and benefits that membership entailed. But to arrive in the 700 section wearing a Cowboys jersey meant certain death. The place was considered so rough that the city opened up a jail, complete with courthouse, inside the stadium.

Alas, the Vet has gone the way of AM radio, BETA tapes and John Kruk’s left testicle. (Or is it the right one? I always get them confused.) But for a lot of fans in Philly, getting rid of the Vet was a lot like selling your first car. Sure, the doors were falling off and the engine had more duct tape than metal, but there were enough memories to make up for it all.

In the interest of keeping this article under 9,000 words, we’ll just give a quick shout out to the Palestra, home of the first NCAA Championship in 1939, Franklin Field, home to the first televised football game in 1940, and, of course, the Schuylkill River, home to some of the best crew races in the country and several yet-to-be-identified pollutants.

THE HISTORY

History is something Philly knows quite a bit about. From Ben Franklin to Lenny Dykstra, the Constitutional Congress to Allen Iverson’s famed “We’re talking ‘bout practice!” press conference, Philly has a long and colorful past.

There’s the “Whiz kids” of the ‘50s, the Mike Schmidt years of the ‘70s and ‘80s, and the wild antics of John Kruk, Mitch Williams and Darren Daulton in 1993.

There’s the old school Eagles, who won the NFL Championship in 1960 with players like Norm Van Brocklin and Chuck Bednarek. There’s Dick Vermeil’s NFC Champions in 1980, featuring Ron Jawarski and Harold Carmichael. There’s Buddy Ryan’s five-year plan to take Randall Cunningham and Reggie White to the Superbowl. And, of course, there’s Andy Reid’s current crop led by Donovan McNabb and Terrell Owens.

The Sixers have featured players like Dr. J, Moses Malone and Wilt Chamberlain, not to mention the unforgettable World B. Free. And before he renounced his roots and said he was from L.A., Kobe was playing high school ball in Philly. Of course, nobody wants to admit it now.

And last but certainly not least, there’s the Broad Street Bullies that made it to three straight Stanley Cup Finals from 1974-76, winning two. Those teams featured three future Hall-of-Famers in Bobby Clarke, Bill Barber and Bernie Parent.

And that’s not even mentioning Boyz II Men, Will Smith or The Hooters.

THE INTANGIBLES

Ok, so by now you’re probably wondering, if the teams stink, the fans are rude, and Boyz II Men never achieved the same success after that collaboration with Mariah Carey, how can anyone think Philly’s the best sports city in America?

The answer lies in the little things. Like a scrappy point guard with great court vision, or a light-hitting shortstop with a stellar glove, every great city needs to provide the intangibles – and few cities can match Philadelphia when it comes to the little things. Here’s just a taste of the peripherals that make Philadelphia great…

The announcers:

There’s not a city in America with a better one-two punch than Phillies broadcaster Harry Kalas and Eagles play-by-play man Merrill Reese.

Kalas has manned the Phillies booth since 1971 and has been a part of every dramatic event in Philadelphia baseball for more than 30 years. His long, deliberate delivery has a way of building the drama itself, making everything seem as if it’s happening in slow motion. And for moments like Schmidt’s 500th homerun in 1987, Kalas’ voice made an historic event all that much more memorable. He was elected to the Hall of Fame in 2002 and also provides the voiceovers for NFL films.

Reese broadcasts Eagles football on WYSP, providing the radio commentary along with former Birds’ great and broadcasting novice Mike Quick, which is sort of like Al Pacino starring with Keanu Reeves in “Devil’s Advocate.” Reese is so beloved among the Eagles faithful that most fans mute their television (something everyone should do when Phil Simms is calling a game) and crank up their radios instead.

The food:

Nothing goes better with sports than a giant serving of artery-clogging fare, and Philly is unmatched in its high-cholesterol delicacies, as evidenced by the many Eagles fans who look like their Randall Cunningham throwback jerseys were painted on.

There’s Philly Franks, stale pretzels and overstuffed hogies (don’t call them subs). Herr’s potato chips are a local favorite, and during his two-year stint with the Phillies, they provided an obvious endorsement deal for former secondbaseman Tommy Herr. And, of course, we’ve already discussed the wonder that is scrapple.

Of course, there’s one meal that tops them all: the cheesesteak. Take one Amoroso’s sub roll, add thinly sliced steak grilled up among as much grease as possible, and apply a healthy dose of cheese wiz, and you’ve got yourself the greatest sandwich known to man. It really should have its own food group.

And even with Eagles-Redskins, Eagles-Cowboys and Eagles-Giants, it’s the cheesesteak that has created Philadelphia’s biggest rivalry. The feud between Geno’s and Pat’s cheesesteaks has been passed down through generations. Of course, those in the know will tell you the best steaks are at Jim’s on South Street.

The Penn Relays:

The Penn Relays are held each April at Franklin Field and, having started in 1895, is the oldest organized relay competition in the United States. They serve as an annual reminder that track and field events do occur outside of the Olympics.

The Army-Navy Football Game:

It’s been half a century since either was a legitimate national championship candidate, but the Army-Navy game is still considered one of the most anticipated college football games of the year. The first meeting came in 1890 and the vast majority of the games have been played in Philadelphia ever since.

Rocky I-III (Much like Kobe, the city has renounced its ties to Rocky IV and Rocky V):

Despite a history that includes Schmidt, Carlton, Bednarek, Richie Ashburn, Julius Erving, and Joe Frazer, Philadelphia’s most memorable athlete may be a fictional one. Sylvester Stallone’s Rocky first climbed the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum in 1976 (the 200th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia) and has become a symbol of the city’s enthusiasm, determination, and pride. A bronze statue of the boxer, arms raised in triumph, stands outside the Spectrum, providing inspiration for Philadelphians and a convenient resting place for pigeons and drunken Eagles fans.

THE RESULTS

So, we’ve talked about the great teams in Philadelphia history. We’ve mentioned the great players and some of the not-so-great ones. We’ve discussed the venues, the fans and cheese steaks. So now, after 4,000 words, you’re probably wondering what it all means. That, or your wondering why in God’s name you even started reading this article. Both are good questions.

Sadly, I don’t have a great answer for you on either front. After laying out the argument for Philadelphia as the country’s greatest sports city, I still somehow doubt any New Yorkers are ready to revoke their citizenship and move 90 miles south.

That’s fine though. Philadelphia doesn’t want them anyway. After all, that’s what Philly is all about. They know they’re the best and they don’t want your recognition. For them, it’s an “us against the world” mentality. They don’t want your respect. It might make them feel bad when they’re booing your players, fighting with your fans or dribbling cheese wiz on your Mets pennant.