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It’s Been a Grand Old Party

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The 700 level was not simply a section for Philadelphia fans to cheer for their Eagles in the decrepit, and now demolished, Veterans Stadium. The cheapest seats at the Vet, it embodied the character of Philadelphia — hard working, banged-up, but passionate and loyal to a fault. The men and women in the 700 level lived on mostly limited means, but would not think twice about working that extra overtime shift or adding that second job just for the chance to spend one afternoon screaming at the top of their lungs for a team that consistently disappointed.

The 700 level was also a family, a band of brothers united by a singular belief. How many other stadiums sections have Secret Santas or help raise money for “that guy with the Donovan jersey” who’s behind on his rent? Yes, Philadelphia sports fans are seen as brash and ignorant and are portrayed as the worst fanatics in the country. But unlike other cities, we do not revel in our losses. We may complain (a lot), but we do not make excuses.

If anything, the 700 level was hated by athletes because the fans refused to let them rest on their laurels. Make a mistake, their mantra went, and we will call you out until you get better. The ticket holders of the 700 level were vocal because they expected everyone, from the owner of the Eagles to the lowest member of the practice squad, to bring the same fire and passion to their jobs and lives as they brought to theirs. Simply put, the 700 level cheered harder, booed harder and cared harder. Sun Podcast: A podcast is available for this column. Click here to listen to or to download it.

Moving to Cornell was certainly a culture shock for this young girl, so the first thing I did was turn to my hometown sports. The affection of the city of Brotherly Love is hard to quantify, but its absence is surely noticeable. Thus, when I was asked to write a column this year, I knew I had to honor my local heroes.

As you may have noticed, I am very attached to my family, but if college teaches you anything, it’s that the family unit comes in all forms. In the only time I will ever cite Hillary Clinton, I will admit that it took a village to get me where I am, and I only wish that these small tokens of gratitude will suffice.

First, I have to give thanks to God, and not just because my mother will yell at me if I don’t. Though I’ve used this column to critique many things about this campus and beyond, I would have nothing if not for Him.

Of course, anyone who knows me will tell you just how close I am to my mother. She has sacrificed so much for me, from taking second jobs to talking to me on the phone at 3 a.m. until she knew I was safe at home. She’s my best friend, the Lorelai to my Rory, and I can only pray that everyone has a person like her in their lives.

Though quiet unless at an Eagles game with my cousin Meg, my brother Eddie set an example for me in life that I can only hope to follow. My Uncle Charlie served as a father figure, even waking up at 6 a.m. so he could drive me to high school every day. Despite their unfortunate allegiance to Villanova basketball — my Uncle John even played there — my family made ridiculous sacrifices so that I could have a chance to receive an education.

For two years, I attended La Salle University in North Philadelphia, which embodies the idea of a family. The atmosphere of my basketball team was that of a sisterhood, and nothing makes me happier even today than seeing them succeed. My friendships with Francesca, Leyla, Tony and Kowalski transcend our vastly different political persuasions. They are my brothers and sisters at home, and I am their token Republican.

My life was mostly characterized by athletics at La Salle, so I was terrified when I did not have that safety net at Cornell. Luckily I met Paul Ibrahim ’06, who went out of his way to make sure that I had the easiest transition to this school that a conservative transfer could have. Nick Baldasaro ’06 became my rock, and taught me that yes, conservatives do have the right arguments, we just need to know how to make them. Sachin Desei ’06 and Dan Tevet ’06 became both allies in hockey and my friends forever, and I cannot wait to visit them after graduation.

No community on campus is as close as that of the conservatives. As a former writer for the Cornell Review and now as Chair of the College Republicans, I have seen firsthand how often this family is attacked, and how bravely these students continue to stand up for their beliefs. My e-board, as well as Sandy, Dan H. and Erin, provided immense help in fighting the dominant Left on this campus. Thank you to Eric Shive ’07 for reminding me to laugh and dance while standing up for conservatism.We may not be popular, we’re just right.

I have been blessed this year with the ability to share my voice with you, dear reader, and for that I am thankful. To the Beccas, Carlos, Olivia, Erica and Jonny: Thank you for asking me to be a part of such a group of hardworking people. Also, thank you to Jackie Levin ’07 for proving to be one of the nicest and funniest people on this campus.

Activities aside, I truly learned about the spirit of Cornell through my best friends. Ahmed “Jimmy” Salem ’08, my best friend and little brother, never let a pesky thing like blindness get in the way of an adventure. I, like many students, wish I had his bravery and perseverance. Kara Tappen ’07 embodies the intelligence and dedication that Cornell students aspire to possess. Mazdak Asgary ’08 is driven like a good Cornell student who works tirelessly to better this school. Lastly, Mark Coombs ’08 epitomizes a combination of class, dignity and stubbornness that many Cornellians aspire to possess. In an atmosphere that is certainly not ideal for an evangelical, Coombs has a boisterous voice coupled with a quiet leadership that make him one of the most respected men on campus.

Families need guidance, and both of my colleges exposed me to some of the best professors in America. At La Salle, Ed Turzanski instilled in me a sense of drive and purpose, while Chuck Desnoyer taught me that not all hippies are bad. Here, Jeremy Rabkin and Barry Strauss are pillars of thought in their fields. I am still in awe that not only have I met Mary Beth Norton, but that she is as approachable, caring and helpful as she is.

Cornell, like Philadelphia, is a community of neighborhoods. Yet just like the bustling metropolis, we are defined by our passion and empathy, and as well by our desire to invigorate the world. Thus, while I will always be a proud Philly girl, I now count myself as an honored Cornellian. Fare thee well, Cornell; two years was not long enough.

Megan Sweeney is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be contacted at mps65@cornell.edu. The 700 Level appeared alternate Mondays.

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