The argument can finally end.
After spending my first three years at college locked in perpetual debate about which city is better, Philadelphia or Pittsburgh, I wasn't sure if the Penn State community would ever reach an agreement. It seemed like we would be doomed to a never-ending dispute.
Thankfully, on Sunday, dozens of large multi-millionaires did all the deciding for us. If the build-up was any indication, the ball game these men were about to play was going to decide the fate of two cities and, more importantly, the relative worth of the human beings who inhabit them. By nightfall, we learned all we needed to know about the approximately 6 million people that live in the Philadelphia and Pittsburgh metropolitan areas.
The men on the field were even kind enough to quantify the disparity for us. Clearly, my life is more valuable than my Western Pennsylvania counterparts by exactly nine points.
It's a good thing to know.
For instance, would you prefer to eat at Pat's Steaks or Primanti Bros.? You can have your pick, but just know that the cheesesteak is going to be 150 percent more delicious.
Sylvester Stallone may not be the best actor, but Rocky was obviously one-and-a-half times better Jean-Claude Van Damme's Sudden Death.
Philly did rack up more penalty yards, though, likely a testament to its higher crime rate. And, as usual for the city, no victory came without cost, as its best player went down with an ankle injury.
Some things never change.
Being a Philadelphia sports fan still feels like waking up on your wedding day and expecting to be left at the altar, but knowing that you live in what has been scientifically proven to be the better half of the state is some consolation.
Now, we have to apply our new knowledge. Why am I paying the same tuition as someone who is clearly less qualified based on his or her football team? President Spanier, I think it's time to create a new scholarship for all Eagles fans.
Don't know what to name your first child? Ben and Troy are so last year. Try Donovan or DeSean.
If you're looking for a fake holiday to celebrate, skip the first day of hunting season and try Wing Bowl instead. There's nothing more fun than watching grown men with nicknames like "El Wingador" rip through a plate of chicken wings. Also, being drunk at 6 a.m. is considerably less dangerous when you're not toting a rifle.
When it comes time to elect the next president in November, we need to make sure the communities are accurately represented at the polls. Based on the score, it seems only fair that ballots cast in Western Pennsylvania be worth two-fifths of those cast in the east. (Actually, scratch that last idea. I vaguely remember that being tried before. Not good times.)
But however we choose to apply this new-found evidence, it's always important to remember one rule: Your life is only as good as the overpaid, oversized boys who aren't actually from your area and probably don't even enjoy living there, yet have to play for your team anyway because of the constraints of the draft and free agency system.
Choose wisely.
Paul Nordeman is a senior majoring in journalism and is The Daily Collegian's Wednesday columnist. His e-mail address is pjn5005@psu.edu.
