Brendan Quinn: "I'm a pretty nice guy. I'm a decent husband, a loving father, and a generally agreeable coworker. Yet in the last decade or so, nearly every Philadelphia sporting event turned me into a stark raving asshole. I was a bundle of nerves—like a keg filled with m-80s—as I transformed into an entirely irrational individual from first pitch, tip-off or kick-off. Because they never, ever won. We got close. Our taints would be tickled. But there was never closure. Last night I saw it end. I experienced unbridled joy. I headed to Broad Street after the game and everyone just had big, dumb, goofy grins plastered on their faces. Big and dumb was familiar; the joy was foreign. I hope all those other fanbases that deal with talk of curses and heartbreak that make for easy stories for dickwads like Joe Buck get to shut those dildos up. Cleveland, Seattle, and all those other ones...I hope youse get to enjoy it. Cause it's mighty fucking awesome."