Last Wednesday night, after suffering through another shameful loss by Pitt football, I… Last Wednesday night, after suffering through another shameful loss by Pitt football, I buried my head in my hands and quit sports forever. I retired. I hung up my cleats. I started to pack up my jerseys.

And then my phone rang.

I almost whipped it across my room in rage, but something held me back. I looked down at the flashing lights to a number I didn’t recognize.

I picked up the call, but heard nothing on the other end. Confused, I looked down at the number once again. Then I realized something. The area code was 215. That’s Philadelphia, the most losing city in the history of the sports world, and home of the most hated fans in existence. That call must have been a reminder from the sports gods above.

At that moment, I came out of retirement.

There’s nothing worse than being a Philadelphia fan. Along with four big-market teams and no championship rings in 24 years, Philadelphia fans hold a wicked reputation that makes Albert Belle and Barry Bonds look like saints.

Sometimes I don’t realize how lucky I am, having teams that consistently win. And when things do go badly for me, I freak. What we as fans need to do when our sports world starts to tumble is simple. We need to look at Philadelphia and laugh.

Sure, we’re all upset about the way Pitt football is going this year, but compared to the life of Philadelphia fans, we live like superstars.

Growing up in the Philadelphia area, I’ve witnessed true sports agony. Lucky for me I was blessed with a father who put a different hat on my head and prevented me from joining the spiraling tornado of torment.

I’ve witnessed the heartache of my closest friends as year after year their hopes and dreams are massacred like a Mike Vick pinata at a local PETA gathering. I’ve seen grown men cry. I’ve heard them weep like little leaguers on sports radio. Yet somehow each and every year, new life is pumped into their veins as they never fail to repeatedly claim, “This is really our year, I swear.”

They came close in the 1993 World Series, but Joe Carter’s game-winning home run sent the Phillies into another round of depression and, more importantly, taught me how to laugh.

The Eagles almost did it in 2004, but Donavan McNabb was too busy remembering the shower of boos he received from his own “fans” on draft day.

A lot of Philly fans wonder why they’re so cursed, why their teams constantly drop like flies when it gets to crunch time. To me, it’s pretty obvious. The sports gods hate them.

It’s true, and most Philly fans would admit it. Come on guys, really. You booed Santa Claus. You cheered when Michael Irvin broke his neck in 1999 while he lay idle on the turf, motionless and uncertain if he would ever walk again.

Then, just a few years ago, you booed Joe Jurevicius after his infant son died. Yeah, real classy. I could go on for pages. After things like that, I can’t help but believe you deserved to be the first city to amass 10,000 losses.

I’m not talking about all the Philly fans, though. That’s what makes the situation so unfortunate. I do know some good, passionate fans that would shy away from occurrences like this – people who now must experience sports catastrophe because of the actions of their fellow fans.

So to the fans responsible for Philadelphia’s disorder, you really need to pay attention. Take this message to heart and do as I say. Watching Pitt football this year has given me a small taste of the mental thrashing you go through every year, and it makes me feel for the innocent fans in need of a ring, a trophy or a cup.

Here’s my advice:

If you ever want to win a major title again, you need to apologize. A mass group of Philadelphia fans must look to the sky and say, “I’m sorry,” to the sports gods. But you have to mean it. I know it may take some time, but it’s something that needs to be done to wake your city from this ongoing nightmare.

The championships may not come right away. It could take a few years or even a decade. The sports gods are sensitive and need some time to get over the embarrassment you’ve caused them.

But if you feel you’ve done nothing wrong, don’t apologize. Maybe things will turn around.

Because you guys really got it next year, right?

Are you one of the good Philly fans? If so, e-mail Mike Gladysz at [email protected].