J.D. Drew's play on the field this past week did nothing to keep Philadelphians from mercilessly, lustily booing him the last couple days, but even if he went 0-for-20 and caught a baby falling from the stands at Citizens Bank Park, he'd still hear it, just 'cuz. Drew, as you may recall, became a permanent fixture in the pantheon of Philadelphia sports fans villains due to his perceived slight of the team back in 1997 when Philadelphia drafted him number one, only to have him sit out a year, re-enter the draft instead of sign with the playoff-deprived team.
Drew's affront, also stoked by then pitcher Curt Schilling's undressing of Drew's agent Scott Boras for attempting to get his player a multi-million dollar deal without ever having a major league at-bat, was one that consistently brings out the worst in Philadelphians. I went to that infamous '99 game, Drew's first appearance as a St. Louis Cardinal, and it was easily the worst-of-the-worst displays of Philadelphia fandom. It wasn't just the battery throwing that was troubling; it was the seeming acceptance for the vociferous hatred that was everywhere, young and old, baseball fan or drunken cretin, who lock-stepped in, as Rick called it, "Brotherly Bile. " The most disturbing display was when two teenage fans unfurled a bedsheet with "J.D. Jew" scrawled on it and showed it off to the Vet Stadium maniacs with gleeful, menacing pride.