There’s nothing quite like a fair weather fan.

I met a bunch of ‘em last night, all in the form of “Giants fans.” Some were from New York, others from Jersey. Some just wanted to see the underdog win. And some were on TV, like all those celebrities at the Super Bowl — among them Pamela Anderson and her own impressive giants.

Even last Tuesday I met a couple of fair weather fans. They called themselves “McCain supporters” after quickly switching candidates when Giuliani failed to win in Florida — where a campaign is less “Vote or Die” and more “Vote Before You Die.” So I’ve seen questionable allegiances everywhere in the last week, in politics and pigskin alike.

But this is not one of those rants against the fair weather fan. I’m from Chicago, so I understand what it’s like. Every summer I cheer for the White Sox or Cubs depending on who’s above .500 (so I usually end up rooting for neither). It’s far too convenient a practice to ever criticize.

What gets me, then, is that this campus is chock full of fair weather fans but absolutely barren of true Quaker fans. I think I might know why.

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Hideous but universally loved mascot Phillie Phanatic has gone through some rough patches over his career. There was the Tommy Lasorda assault in 1988. Then the Phanatic literally lost his head in 2004. But now, as Philadelphia Will Do reports, the Phillies’ mascot has reached a new low.

That’s right, it’s Phunky Phanatic Phriday on CBS 3!

Warning: watching this video will instantly transport you to the worst parts of the early nineties.

It’s not every day you see those sweatpants traded in for tailored suits and shoulder pads.

Last week, as I watched students march down Walnut in appropriate business attire, I wondered how soon they (you?) would be making more money than our fine new mayor.

How much does Nutter make? That’s public information: $186,044.

Depending on who you are, you might be wowed or seriously underwhelmed by that number. But if I may offer the moderately knowledgeable opinion of a Regular Working Person: that is a relatively measly sum for someone with what is — almost inarguably — one of the most difficult jobs in the county.

The catch, of course, is that salaries are in no way decided by how hard a job is — assuming such a thing can even be measured. (Imagine: seventh grade teachers and coal miners would be buying homes in Greenwich and summering in Tuscany.)

Of course there’s nothing easy about the 80-hour weeks recent grads put in at i-banks. But — upon graduation — Wharton undergraduates command an average starting salary of $108,509 (that’s base salary + signing bonus + annual bonus). 100 grand!

Pardon me while I peel my jaw up off the floor.

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