Breaking News: We have a Daulerio sighting. Your Deadspin editor has been spotted at the Locust Bar at 235 S 10th St., engaged in drunken post-parade revelry with someone named Jim (and later, I'm sure, to be known as "Suspect B"). A courageous reader sent this cell phone shot at great personal risk, and wishes to remain anonymous, although will tell all for more free beer. Mr. Daulerio says hello — or something closely approximating that — and says that he will see you all on Monday. As Westley said to Fezzik in Princess Bride: "I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake. But for now, rest well and dream of large women." More photos following the jump.
Received this a bit earlier from reader Mark Anskis, taken with his camera phone and including the simple words: "Empty promises."
The above was taken by Meghan Zamborsky, who writes: "I just left Broad right by my house about an hour ago and while the good money was on Brett Myers as the token parade WT asshole, Jason Werth is currently in the lead."
This can't be good for the environment. Meanwhile, a great parade photo collection from Post Game Spread. And of course no victory parade would be complete without Pat Burrell on a Budweiser truck. Thanks to The Fightins. And now some scenes from the Red Sox Victory Parade, which was held at the same time in Boston. Woooo! Whee! Woo ... um, what? And finally ...
Exhibit 1: It's 11 a.m. and a man in a homemade Phanatic costume needs to catch his breath. He cozies up to an over-flowing trash can away from the sight of the omnipresent police force, removes his head, and cracks open a Miller Lite. He takes a swig, sets it next to his head on the trash can, and texts his friends, undoubtedly bragging about drinking a beer within arm's reach of a cop in his homemade Phanatic outfit.
Exhibit 2 & 3: Despite the rumors floating around, Phillies fans are really class acts, graciously letting children fight through the crowd and sit on the Broad Street curb for a good view of the parade. This young man took advantage of his curbside seat and diminutive stature to take care of business. Soon thereafter, not wanting to sully his giant foam finger, he looks up to the crowd, hoping someone hasn't thrown their toilet paper to float away into the sky. Enjoy; and always remember, US DID IT!