If you get that reference, congrats, you’ve been watching too much playoff basketball.  Well, we ended up in Philadelphia today (where they’re boycotting playoff basketball for a while and hoping this whole Marvin Harrison thing blows over fast), and no sports fan’s trip to Philly would be complete without: that’s right!  A run up the Rocky steps…I mean, the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s East Entrance Stairway.  Nah, let’s stick with Rocky steps.

The city has really embraced the steps, erecting a statue at the foot of them (which is a popular wedding photo location, apparently), and not showing up to sit on the sidelines and boo us, as I think everyone there expected.  Maybe if we were wearing Santa outfits or a Michael Irvin jersey.

Anyway, the Rocky steps: there are a lot of them.  By the time I reached the top, I felt like I earned a few poses with the statue, which was cruelly placed back down at the bottom.  My wife pointed out that Rocky ran from the other end of the city, and didn’t just take a dirty bus to the steps, but the statue didn’t mind, and neither did I.  Why would I mind?  For five winded flights, I was Rocky.