The Washington Post’s opinion section enlisted nine writers to share which American city they think deserves the title of the nation’s best sports city.

Los Angeles, Seattle, New York, Boston — even the likes of Kansas City and Cleveland got a mention. Which city was snubbed? Philadelphia.

Taking a look through the comments of their recent Instagram post promoting the list, not to mention the nearly 800 comments on the column itself, we’re not the only ones who raised an eyebrow at the exclusion of Philly from the list.

So we got nine of our own writers to argue why Philadelphia is the nation’s best sports city. Enjoy.

It means more to us

Mike Sielski, sports columnist

Philadelphia is America’s best sports city because sports — not national sports, not the Olympics, but the teams and athletes here — is the lingua franca of the town and the great connector of the city and its surrounding suburbs and communities. Do you flinch when someone says the name Chico Ruiz or Joe Carter? Do you smile at a random mention of Matt Stairs or Corey Clement? Then you know and love Philadelphia sports.

It’s America’s best sports city because Philadelphia is a provincial, parochial region where the love of and devotion to the teams’ histories and traditions are passed down from one generation to the next — a succession of unbroken bonds over a century or more. Did you sit out on your front stoop on a summer night and listen to Harry and Whitey call a Phillies game over the radio? Do you still sync Merrill and Mike’s broadcast to the TV telecast? Do you know who J.J. Daigneault is? Then you know and love Philadelphia sports.

» READ MORE: Eagles fans professed their love in ink after the team’s Super Bowl LIX win. These are some of our favorites.

It is America’s best sports city because you can walk down the street here after an Eagles loss or a Phillies loss or a Sixers loss and know that those teams lost just from the vacant looks on the faces of the passersby. Do you turn up the talk-radio station on those terrible Monday mornings? Do you remember where you were when Kawhi’s fourth bounce fell through the net? Then you know and you live and you die with Philadelphia sports.

Most of all, Philadelphia is America’s best sports city because people here care more and sports here matters more than it does anywhere else. If you don’t believe me, go ahead. Tell a Philadelphia sports fan that your city, your teams, your traditions are better. Go ahead. Dare ya.

Nobody parties like us

Stephanie Farr, features columnist

Philadelphia is undoubtedly the best sports city in the United States and it has everything to do with our fans, who are as passionate and dedicated as they come. Here “Go Birds” is a greeting, talking trash is an art form, and being a part of it all is totally intoxicating, even if you’re completely sober (which, to be fair, most of us aren’t).

Nobody celebrates a major win like Philly — by partying in the street with Gritty and Ben Franklin impersonators, dancing with Philly Elmo and his drum line, and climbing greased poles. When the Phillies won the NLCS in 2022, I watched Sean “Shrimp” Hagan climb a pole and shotgun seven cans of Twisted Tea thrown to him by the crowd. To his credit, at some point Hagan realized he was too drunk to get down safely and waited for firefighters to bring a ladder.

“It couldn’t have happened without the crowd being so [expletive] Philly,” he told me. “What other city’s first thought when they see a guy on a pole would be to throw him a beer?”

Do our Bacchanalian celebrations border on absolute lawless anarchy? Yes, but if you want to live safe and know how something will end, go watch a Hallmark movie. This is Philly, where we are fueled by the raging fire of a thousand losses — even when we win — and we thrive off the unpredictability of life.

Go Birds.

» READ MORE: What Philly — and Philly sports fans — taught me about fandom | Stephanie Farr

Yes, we’re really that crazy

David Murphy, sports columnist

In my early 20s, I lived in Tampa for a brief stint. The downtown area is small enough that all of its neighborhoods are in proximity to each other. My apartment was in a section popular among locals for its dining and nightlife scene. But it was close enough to the hotel district to be in the eye of the storm when the Eagles came to town.

One Saturday evening in late October, we were sitting at a popular outside bar when the place was suddenly overcome by a wave of midnight green. Everywhere you looked, there were packs of Eagles fans who looked like they hadn’t seen the sun in two months. They swaggered through the place in their Brian Dawkins jerseys with zero regard for humanity. They ordered their Bud Lights in multiples of two and yelled Eagles chants at each other as horrified young women clung desperately to each other and wiped errant sloshes of domestic Pilsner off each other’s going-out clothes. A friend of mine stepped off the patio to have a cigarette. He returned with a stunned expression on his face. “An Eagles fan just peed on my foot,” he said with a mixture of anger and respect.

Tampa got the last laugh the next day when Matt Bryant kicked a walk-off field goal from 62 yards out. But I always think of that weekend when people ask me if Philly sports fans are as crazy as their reputation.

There are a lot of different prerequisites that a city needs in order to consider itself a great sports town. For instance, it must be an actual city, one with history and character that stands on its own even without sports. Furthermore, a great sports town requires a certain level of market penetration. Sports must sit atop the pedestal in a way that it doesn’t in places like New York and L.A. There must be a critical mass of folks who are born and raised, which eliminates pretty much any city south of the Mason-Dixon and west of the Mississippi. The list is a short one. Boston, Chicago, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, Detroit, maybe Milwaukee.

From there, the thing that sets Philly apart is the people. They are a strange lot, prone to overexcitement and, every now and then, over-indulgence. But, man, do they care. You see it any time one of their teams hits the road. You hear it, too. There is an energy that is difficult to define but impossible not to feel. It’s the secret sauce of this place. And, yeah, it’s the best.

» READ MORE: Flyers fans once joined a club by getting hit by a puck. It made them ‘feel special’ — and protected the team.

We own our losses

Matt Breen, sports features writer

A veteran Eagles reporter wrote recently that last Sunday’s Eagles-Cowboys game was the Birds’ worst ever loss to their rival. They blew a 21-point lead, exposed some glaring flaws, and lost on a walk-off field goal. Fair point. But it was pushed back immediately on social media. You think this loss was bad? That’s what makes Philadelphia a great — maybe the greatest — sports city. We celebrate our wins like no other but we also wear our losses forever. This was a brutal loss but we still remember that botched chip shot on Monday Night Football in 1997. And that blowout loss in the playoffs while we were stuck inside during the Blizzard of ‘96. Oh yeah, remember what happened in 2010?

I don’t know if any city in the U.S. holds onto losses more than Philly. We do that because we care. We lose sleep when the Phillies blow a save, have a bad week if the Eagles lose, still can’t believe they didn’t call the Islanders offside, and are still waiting for Ben Simmons to dunk it. So yeah, that’s why it means more here when the teams do win. Because we care so much when they lose. You can have L.A., Seattle, and Kansas City. I’ll stay in Philly.

» READ MORE: The 10 most haunting Philly sports moments since 2000, from Ronde Barber’s pick-six to Ben Simmons’ pass

We feed off being underdogs

Julia Terruso, politics reporter

Look, I’m not pretending to be neutral here. I went to spring training in Clearwater in pigtails as a child. I fell in love at an Eagles tailgate and flew to London to watch the Phillies play the Mets on my honeymoon. But even non-Philadelphians would be out of their minds not to put us in the top three — let alone the top nine.

Rooting for the Phillies, Sixers, Eagles, and Flyers is a cross-class, cross-generation rite. We’re one of only eight U.S. cities with all four major teams, and our stadiums are actually accessible — yes, Los Angeles, I’m looking at you. Tickets are (mostly) affordable, the crowds are electric, and the fervor is real. We boo because we care. And unlike other cities, we don’t sneer at bandwagoners. The citywide greeting is “Go Birds,” and the uniform is fair game for the lifer who knows about pickle juice and The Process, along with the new Fishtown transplant who couldn’t diagram a wheel play but looks fantastic in kelly green — because everyone looks fantastic in Kelly green.

But the thing that really makes Philly a great sports town is our shared history of heartbreak and near-misses that drives us forward. We’re used to being underestimated. So go ahead, leave us off your list, WaPo. Underdogs run on disrespect, and we’ve got miles to go.

» READ MORE: I wore a Pirates hat around Philadelphia. And all I got was love. | Opinion

We wear our fandom on our sleeves — and heads

Abraham Gutman, civil courts reporter

Stand on the South Street bridge at 7 a.m. and you’ll know the time of year, and that says it all. The rivers of medical professionals walking and biking back from their night shifts, and those heading to their morning duties, give it away in unison. Red caps? It must be October. Kelly and midnight green beanies? The NFL playoffs are coming. Blue or black starred jackets? The NBA playoffs are underway and our hearts will soon be broken, again.

I am a Philly transplant who comes from the tradition of European soccer, where rivalry between teams from the same city is the driver of passion. I always thought that there is nothing more electric than winning a derby game, and having your team crowned as the city’s best. But Philadelphia taught me that I was wrong. There is something more electric: a city united, together, declaring love to its teams in every nook and corner.

Philadelphia isn’t just the best sports city in America (“next year on Broad?”), it’s an organism that breathes sports fandom unlike any other place.

The days of throwing snowballs at Santa or batteries on a hated player are far gone. This is the city that gave a struggling shortstop who just arrived in town a standing ovation, that travels in droves so E-A-G-L-E-S chants come through the broadcast of every away game, and has a community of sickos who rode with its Sixers through one of the weirdest experiments in NBA history.

The electric energy isn’t confined to the city lines. It’s a moment that every Philadelphian cherishes. Don an Eagles hat in any other city in America, or even abroad, and you are more likely than not to lock eyes with a stranger passing by.

“Go Birds,” they inevitably say.

“Go Birds!” you respond.

Nothing beats that. And if you don’t like it. All good. We don’t care.

» READ MORE: A basement shrine to Philly sports fandom, featuring pieces of the Vet and Spectrum

We have our own language

Jeff Neiburg, Eagles reporter

The Washington Post’s opinion section has been having a rough go of it. Which makes me wonder if this list, too, had to be cleared by the Amazon overlord, and maybe Jeff Bezos just hates Philadelphia?

I mean … Cleveland?

The size and scale of the two recent Eagles parades speak for themselves. The fact that there used to be a jail in the bowels of Veterans Stadium speaks for itself. Attending one Phillies playoff game at Citizens Bank Park would speak for itself. “Go Birds,” is a passing “hello” to a fellow Philadelphian in another town, a phrase of familial camaraderie. Due respect to Los Angeles, a city I love to be and eat in. But the sheer number of sports that happen in a place doesn’t make it a good sports city. That’s not human. People and passion make a place.

We have much more than pro sports

Tommy Rowan, cheesesteak/Philly history expert

A criteria would have helped, but really, any discernible or coherent formula would have really pulled that Washington Post list together. Here, instead, are three reasons why Philadelphia is one of the cornerstone cities in American sports …

History: The fabric of American sport was woven here. The Heisman Trophy is named after John Heisman, who played at Penn. The Phillies are one of the key reasons fans are allowed to keep foul balls that land in the stands. All because an 11-year-old Phillies fan didn’t blink when the team had him thrown in jail for larceny.

Tradition: We’re more than pro sports. We’ve hosted the annual Army-Navy game, and the Dad Vail Regatta, and the Penn Relays. Tennis found an American foothold at the Philadelphia Cricket Club.

Passion: Support is an undergarment. This city has passion. Fandom here is passed down from generation to generation, just like their houses. And sure they’re loud, and they generally take it the worst of any fanbafan base. But they’re vocal, they’re informed, and they care. These teams mean something to these people.

We know our stuff

Ariel Simpson, sports trending writer

Oct. 9 was a tragic day for Philly sports fans. The Phillies season ended with a heartbreaking loss to the Los Angeles Dodgers, the Eagles suffered a devastating 34-17 loss to the New York Giants, and the Flyers dropped their season opener to the Florida Panthers.

That very next day, I wandered the streets of Philadelphia in what felt like a walk of shame. The heartbreak could be seen on each fan’s face as they still sported their favorite team’s colors. And when asked about the losses, each fan gave me a full breakdown of what needs to be done in order for the teams to be more successful.

That’s what makes Philly such a great sports city. Not only are the fans passionate, but they are knowledgeable when it comes to their sports teams. Sure, sometimes they may rush to call for a head coach to be fired or boo their own teams, but that’s only because they care so much.

They wear their heart on their sleeves and they expect more from each team. And when they do succeed, they show up and celebrate like no other. If you need an example, look no further than the city greasing its light poles in an attempt to stop fans from climbing them in celebration.