Lehigh Football Nation

(Photo courtesy AP/The Express-Times) I admit it; I'm probably the worst sort of bandwagon-jumper when it comes to hockey.  My days of following the intricacies of one-timers, line changes and faceoff percentages ended well into my 20s when I would attend a Hartford Whalers game a couple times a year and followed that hapless franchise. And - really - I have no time to follow the Flyers during the regular season.  I mean, it starts in the middle of college football season, extends all the way through the Super Bowl and NCAA tournament.  Where's the time to keep up with W Simon Gagne 's performance on the ice? But when the playoffs happen, I start to pay attention. Call me fair-weather?  Sure.  Go ahead; I don't care.  But if you had to pick a time and a place to start paying attention, Game 7 against the Bruins at the new Boston Garden last Friday was probably the best time ever to start. (more)

After watching the wet slop at Game 5 at the Linc today - and the incredible game suspension in Game 5 in the middle of the 6th inning 2-2 in a game that never should have even been started given the weather forecast, all I can keep thinking about is: what the Philadelphia fan needs is a creed, like the unofficial one at the Post office. Instead of " Neither snow, nor rain nor heat stays these couriers from their appointed rounds ", it ought to go something like this: We are Philadelphia fans. We love each other like brothers, but will roll others out of the upper decks like nutters. We are cheesesteak-eating, soft pretzel-munching Rocky's, Pat Croce's, Bernie Parent's. We go about our day with memories of bitterly falling short in key situations, near-complete ineptitude in the front office, strange blot clots taking out top goalscorers one series before the Stanley Cup, Allen Iverson, mysterious stomach viruses affecting our starting quarterbacks, and - wors...