I Booed Santa Claus

It always bothers me when I hear someone comment on Philadelphia Eagles fans as obnoxious and belligerent because they once booed Santa Claus during a game’s halftime show. I’m a lifelong Philadelphia Eagles fan. And even though I understand these comments are a generalization of the perceived attitude of Philadelphians, I take these comments personally. I was at this game. How can something that happened over 40 years ago still influence how a whole city is perceived in the sports world? Sometimes bad first impressions are hard to change.

I was a 14 year old high school freshman when I accompanied my father and his friends to the last Eagles football game of the 1968 season. There was an extra ticket because it snowed the night before and not many of my father’s friends were interested in seeing a woeful, meaningless football game. But the freezing cold weather didn’t bother me and I jumped at the chance to go to the game with my father, our next door neighbor, Mr. Knocke, and Mr. Dever, my father’s good friend. I played football and loyally followed the Eagles despite their 2 and 12 record. As long as I was on my good behavior and didn’t cause any trouble, it would be a fun afternoon.

I don’t remember as much of the game as I remember the event. And of course, since people keep bringing up the game, my memory is influenced by history. I do remember the importance my father placed on my being respectful. Not just to Mr. Dever and Mr. Knocke, but to everyone at the game. He said being in a crowd of over 50,000 people required everyone to be on their best behavior and to act respectful toward each other. I wasn’t a troublemaker and I was with a bunch of adults, so I didn’t see this as a problem.

The crowd at the game was grumpy, not only because of the weather but because of the team. In 1968 the Eagles were terrible, they lost their first 11 games and the fans were hostile toward the coach, Joe Kuharich. During the game, my father pointed out an airplane flying over Franklin Field, pulling a banner that read “Joe Must Go”. We all laughed despite our misery. The problems with the Eagles were discussed and argued all during the first half. Although Coach Kuharich was a perfect gentleman and a respected football coach, the blue collar Philadelphia fans resented his lucrative 15 year guaranteed contract. From the stands, it didn’t look like loosing bothered him. And the Eagles owner, Mr. Wolman, was in financial difficulties as a result of some bad real estate deals in Chicago. The fans believed these problems led to the team’s lack of talent and the poor performance on the football field. To add insult to injury, by winning two out of the last three meaningless games, the Eagles lost the chance for the number 1 pick in the upcoming draft. That pick would have been O.J. Simpson, the best college running back in the country.

I was happily taking it all in: the crowd, the noise, the game, the Eaglette cheerleaders dressed as elves, the adult conversation between my father and his friends, it was great. I was looking forward to the halftime Christmas Pageant with a 50 piece marching band playing Christmas carols and a large float with a sleigh and 8 reindeer carrying Santa Claus. After the half ended we stretched our legs and waited for the show. As the wait grew longer the crowd grew restless. My father joked with Mr. Dever, “This team is so broke they can’t even put on a decent Christmas show”. It was cold, so we moved around while we waited. Then it happened, as halftime was nearly over, with the marching band standing in the end zone playing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”, the stadium announcer introduced Santa Claus. The crowd became silent as everyone looked toward the field. Nothing. Then, this little guy in a Santa suit so large he was holding the pants up with one hand, came strutting out on the field, waving with his free hand. I heard my father say “That’s the most pathetic Santa I’ve ever seen, we can’t even get a good Santa”. There was a definite hesitation before the boos started, I guess everyone had to take it all in. First there were a few boos, and people started laughing, then more boos, louder boos, and then I joined in, booing and laughing. It was funny, I laughed and booed, then, I felt a sharp poke on my shoulder. I turned to see my father giving me the look. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sheepishly silent, I sat down and watched Santa being pelted with snowballs as he ran off the field.

I didn’t realize this was a defining event until years later when I heard reporters from other cities characterizing Eagles fans as “the fans that booed Santa”. For me, there wasn’t any wrongdoing, this Santa wasn’t the real Santa, and he was late, and he was skinny, he deserved to get booed. It was revealed later that the marching band and the Santa float couldn’t go on the field that day because the snow made the turf too muddy. Also, the hired Santa Claus got stuck in traffic and couldn’t make it to the stadium in time for the show. The Santa that we booed was a 20 year old who happened to be wearing a Santa costume to the game. The Eagles halftime organizers begged him to go out on the field so they could complete the show. This young man was just doing someone a favor and he became a main character in some infamous Philadelphia sports lore.

The truth is, when someone berates Eagles fans for booing Santa, they are also berating me. I booed Santa Claus. I’m still confused on why this stigma has stuck on Philadelphia for so long. If you know the facts you can understand how this happened. But I also have to admit that I, along with all the other booers that day, were quick to judge the young man dressed as Santa. His name is Frank Olivo. I guess we’re being victimized for the same thing we did to someone else. Sometimes bad first impressions are easy to find.