No, I haven't lost my grip on reality. Yes, I know Gritty is an abomination. A blight on society. An affront to normalcy and domestic tranquility. The Flyers claim he was "living" in an unused underbelly of the arena. Seems to me, more like a product of Chernobyl that stowed away in a Russian player's gear. Perhaps he slipped in from the Upside Down before Eleven powered through her most recent nosebleed. He looks like Chewbacca knocked up Mayor McCheese, but they left the baby in the wilderness to be raised by wolves. Gritty is flatulence personified, an ethereal stench coalesced into physical form. No, personified is the wrong word. Personified mistakenly implies Gritty is a person. He's more like a Sulphur-stinking hell hound poorly imitating human characteristics in order to infiltrate society. But I love him.
I am loathe to give the Philadelphia Flyers organization any credit. My hatred of the team and (most) of their fans is well documented. This is the team that gave us the Broad Street Bullies, Ron Hextall, and whiny Eric Lindros. I have no love for the Orange and Black, but with Gritty they may have, perhaps accidentally, hit it out of the park. It depends on what you believe about Gritty's origins. If he is supposed to be another silly, but cute lovable loser then he is an easy fail. This mascot can't hold the Phillie Phanatic's jock in this regard. But if Gritty is, as I firmly believe, a sarcastic rebuttal to the terrible pre-game sh*tshow produced by the Vegas Golden Knights then he is brilliant. Vegas made all of hockey dumber last season with their Ice Capades meets Renaissance Faire stage act that preceded home games. The overproduced community theatre may have been a sweet part-time gig for some Strip understudies and drama students, but the rest of the NHL could have done without all the phony arrows, drums, and fanfare. If you want to entertain me, play two minutes of the Black Knight on the Jumbotron and drop the puck. I think Gritty is an epic troll by the Flyers seeking to bring us something worse than Vegas's Knights of the Crease.
Whether playing it straight or as a troll job, Gritty, twenty games into the season, has become an extraordinary success. He, and the Flyers, were mercilessly ridiculed upon his debut. Philly fans, known to boo Santa Claus, were aghast. The mocking was amplified when Gritty fell down when walking across the rink. A hockey mascot that can't navigate the ice surface is embarrassing. Or, maybe, a genius idea. Either way, the Flyers embraced the hate and ran with it. Like a comedian who feeds off angry hecklers, Gritty now courts the abuse. The Flyers marketing team looks incredibly smart now. The bar was set so low, so early, now they can do almost anything no matter how stupid or demeaning. Pour popcorn on unsuspecting fans? That Gritty is incorrigible. Push over a mite player during intermission? Man, Gritty, you're so silly. Run over a kid with the Zamboni in a murderous rage? Oh, that's just Gritty being Gritty. By design, or by turning chicken manure into chicken salad, the Flyers have created a good kind of monster. And, however begrudgingly, earned a tiny bit of respect from me.
