So, question was, in cart and horse world: did I respond poorly to the nachos on merit or because I was choking on my chips after watching one after another 76er player heave a shot or pass nowhere near its intended target? Relatively able to self-reflect accurately, I’m going to say the nachos would have let me down even in the middle of a championship parade. I, like many Philly sports fans, had drunk the Kool Aid after recent championships by the Eagles and Villanova and did not believe that one of our teams would fail in the clutch.ĭrink up 76ers. In control for much of the game, the 76ers suddenly in the fourth quarter and overtime seemed a team whose players had just morphed into a collection of JV players with blindfolds. The conflict? On this particular afternoon, most of the many television sets above the bar and seating areas were showing a playoff game between our beloved 76ers and the not-at-all-loved Boston Celtics. It was with this potential conflict in mind that I gritted my teeth while staring at an uninspiring plate of nachos during a recent Saturday night visit to the new Fishtown Hops. If I had just finished a knock down, drag ’em out with my wife or boss, I probably wouldn’t turn around five minutes later and pen a piece on mindfulness.

It is of course a paragon of journalistic integrity that one should not write a subjective story infected by mood. Looking glowing in the lobby at Fishtown Hops in Sugarhouse Casino.