I Sang the Eagles Fight Song While Auditioning for The Price Is Right

My 4-hour journey into a casino for a casting call for that includes lots of yelling, diehard gameshow fans, and a Philly sports folk hero

I bet you’re wondering how I got here. 7 days ago, I was let go from my job. No matter your relationship with your job, there is a certain level of ego death that happens when you’re laid off. The things that you thought made you valuable, like driving product launches and answering emails on time, slowly slip away, putting a part of your identity in a tailspin. It’s like when Carson Wentz lost the jaw-dropping athleticism to make plays. Or when Michael Vick’s speed started to fade. You’re forced to recalibrate and become a new version of yourself. The freedom is intoxicating, but the weight of uncertainty can be hard to carry.

To help me structure my days, my girlfriend has been finding side quests for me to do while I figure out what’s next. She saw a post on Instagram and immediately decided what my next one should be. The Price Is Right was going to be hosting live auditions in Philadelphia. The winners get a free trip to Los Angeles to be on the show.

Now, if you live under a rock (or are not as intimately familiar with CBS Daytime programming as every kid in the 90’s who stayed home sick from school), The Price Is Right is the pinnacle of game shows. Hosted by Drew Carey (who took over for the legendary Bob Barker in 2007 AKA the man who punched Happy Gilmore in the face), The Price Is Right pretty much asks contestants to name the price of things for the chance to win big prizes. Prizes include two Kawasaki Ninja motorcycles you may never use or a giant sauna that will surely not fit into your one-bedroom apartment. The show is a cultural institution.

I’ve never been a diehard The Price is Right fan (A Pricehead?) and don’t really know much about the rules, but my girlfriend is very wise and knows I love a side quest. So I arrived at the Rivers Casino in Philadelphia (where the slot machines were way too packed for 10 am on a Wednesday) and stumbled around to find where the auditions were taking place. I followed a group of people into an elevator with a girl, a younger couple, and two sisters wearing homemade The Price Is Right shirts that said “Our Mom Won in 1983.” I asked them if their mom actually won, and they confirmed that she was the big winner of the entire Showcase Showdown (the grand finale where you win a bunch of money, I think).

I. Losing Your Mind in The Parking Garage

Stepping out of the elevator, we entered a parking garage flooded with people waiting in a long line that zig-zagged throughout the space. At the end of the line was a guard and two massive doors entering the casino. Little did I know most of the people in line were The Price Is Right superfans. Contestant hopefuls were dripping in The Price Is Right merchandise, both official and DIY.

I’m talking shirts with catchphrases, plush versions of the microphone stands they have on the show, giant nametags, and homemade props. One man even had a miniature version of the Plinko game that he carried around, asking people to spin. Outside of the elaborate props and attire, one thing became apparent. Every single person was acting absolutely wild.

A woman in a DIY The Price Is Right tie-dye shirt was holding her phone high to record herself while screaming “ahhhhhhh” with everything she had and dancing with strangers around her. She did this every 5 minutes for the two hours it took to get inside.

While in line, my friend A.J. texted me and gave me the scoop. Apparently it’s a well-known secret that The Price Is Right is trying to cast people who act as crazy as possible. When you look up information for the audition online, they tell you to be enthusiastic. But what they really want is for you to be as over-the-top as possible. A.J. also mentioned that it’s known that producers will start the scouting process while you’re in line. So the crazier you act in line, the more likely you are to be face-to-face with Drew Carey next to a pair of Kawasaki Ninja motorcycles.

Everyone else seemed to have gotten the memo. They called to the producers like the Sirens called to Odysseus. After reading A.J.’s text, I felt myself leaning in. I began high-fiving people around me and joining in on chants.

Something to know about Philadelphians is that whenever enthusiasm reaches a fever pitch, there are only two outcomes. One involves feats of strength, like climbing poles or flipping trash cans. But the other, no matter where you are, is the emergence of an Eagles chant. As excitement heightened among the crowd, the E-A-G-L-E-S chant rang down like a crack of thunder over and over again. What was most jarring was that people weren’t on their phones. The need to showcase your enthusiasm to get the attention of producers rendered doomscrolling a liability.

I began building relationships with the people around me. Behind me was the couple I entered the elevator with. The boyfriend was wearing a Brian Dawkins jersey. I asked him what he thought about the A.J. Brown trade, and he lamented that even though A.J. was talented, he needed to go to protect the locker room. I responded by saying “he be tweeting too much,” to which the girlfriend agreed and said she was glad he was gone.

I spoke to a man next to me who mentioned that his dad was on The Price Is Right in the 60’s and was one number away from winning a brand new car. He said now it was his turn and he was back to avenge his dad. There was also a man dressed as a giant pickle, which no one addressed.

Ahead of me was the girl I entered the elevator with. I introduced myself. Her name was Izzy, and she took the day off work to audition for the show even though she, much like me, doesn’t really watch it. As we chatted, a woman with red-dyed hair in the back of the line was waving her arms aggressively in our direction. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to get my attention or Izzy’s. The answer revealed itself when she approached us and gave Izzy a big hug. Her name was Renee, and she and Izzy used to work together. They casually caught up, and it became apparent that Renee was going to keep her newfound spot in line.

Renee turned around and thanked me for letting her cut. Apparently, today was her 60th birthday. Izzy and I congratulated her and started singing happy birthday as Renee danced. We talked about her birthday plans, which included using the $60 her barber gave her as a birthday gift to drink as much tequila as possible and sing karaoke. We shared where we were all from, how she and Izzy know each other, and talked about the wisdom of Kenny Rogers’ song “The Gambler” (“sometimes knowing when to walk away could save your life,” said Renee).

We inched closer and closer to the big doors. Every 20 minutes or so, they’d let a group of people in. As the people walked through the doors, the crowd in the garage would cheer for them. The woman who was screaming while recording herself shook the earth when she entered, as her “ahhhh’s” echoed behind the big double doors threatening to shatter the glass. Sitting outside of the threshold we waited 2 hours to cross, we started chatting with a group of older women, which included 90-year-old Audrey and her two sisters. Audrey said “we’re all family now” and told us she was going to win it all.

Finally, it was our turn. On our way in, an older woman with a cane and a red dress who was sitting on a stool just outside of the doors hopped into the line with us. “They let me sit outside for a little bit, but now I’m coming in with y’all,” she whispered to me. The relief of finally making it to our destination was diminished by the realization that this wasn’t our destination at all. It was just…another line. One where the end didn’t feel so clear.

II. Journey Through the L-Shaped Hall

In this new line, you could see people who finished their audition and were leaving with a big yellow name tag on their chest. As they walked towards the exit, the entire crowd would cheer for each person one by one and high-five them. Occasionally, a cameraman would come out and film the line, to which everyone responded by screaming at the top of our lungs like some sort of group psychosis.

The vibes were immaculate. Some people started hitting the casino bar and were drinking beers (at noon). Renee, Izzy, and I made friends with two women wearing matching outfits who were ahead of us. Their names were Pam and Sam. Pam and Sam looked almost identical even though Pam was Sam’s aunt. They wore matching DIY shirts with their faces on them that said, “Pick Us Next.”

Pam and Sam heard us talking about Renee’s birthday, and Sam mentioned that her birthday was the week before. Renee dove into a deep discussion about astrology, mostly about how Cancers are dope and all of her good friends are Virgos. We sang and celebrated.

Izzy mentioned that there’s a birthday bar in Philadelphia. I knew they were talking about Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar in South Philly, a crunchy dive bar that can best be described as cavernous and always open. We all made plans to meet there after the audition to celebrate Renee’s 60th birthday, which prompted her and I to start singing “we’re going to the birthday bar” in a variety of melodies.

As the cheers continued for people walking back from their auditions, the guy in the Brian Dawkins jersey and I started specific chants for people based on their names, which we could see on their giant name tags. At one point, a man who worked at the casino pointed at his coworker, saying, “he’s a Cowboys fan,” to which the entire crowd booed relentlessly. The only moment of negativity up to that point.

Audrey decided she needed to rest her legs after standing for two hours. She left the line and ventured ahead, saying that she’d meet us all up front and hop back in line when we got there. The woman with the red dress and the cane left to go to the bathroom and didn’t return.

Ahead of us were a pair of women who brought one of those portable karaoke microphones you give to people as a white elephant gift. They kept pulling up songs on YouTube and asking people to sing. Although everyone there embraced the most exaggerated caricatures of themselves to get on TV, they still couldn’t bear the public shame that is singing karaoke in a room full of strangers wearing The Price Is Right merch.

Feeling jazzed up from singing with Renee, I volunteered myself as tribute. They asked me if I knew the Eagles Fight Song, not knowing they were talking to the esteemed writer of a low-level Eagles newsletter. I grabbed the mic and began singing, “Fly Eagles Fly... on the road to vict-or-yyyy.” The crowd erupted and began singing in unison. Singing the Eagles fight song in this environment is like fishing with dynamite. Or like Victor Wembanyama getting buckets in AAU.

Ahead of me was an 80-year-old woman with a walker named Miss Crystal. I held the mic towards Miss Crystal as she shouted “E-A-G-L…”. She gave me a big smile and a hug afterwards, and we all exchanged high fives. The man in the pickle costume grabbed the microphone and began singing “Dancing On My Own,” which not a lot of people knew the words to, but jumped in on the “oooooo’s” during the chorus. Dawkin’s Jersey’s girlfriend wondered aloud, “Is he dressed as a pickle or a cucumber?”

Behind me was a man who looked like a much older Stephen A. Smith and his wife (maybe?), who was much shorter. As the crowd cheered on people who auditioned as they left, he would occasionally bark at them instead. You know, like a dog. His wife had her hands under the back of his shirt. She rubbed his back until everyone around them was uncomfortable. This went on for the duration of our time in line.

After another hour, we made it to the front of this line only to find ourselves at the back of a third line. It was the Inception of lines. A line within a line. At this point, the hallway began to take shape. We could now see that this hallway was shaped like a long L. In this newest line, we were close to the hitch of the L. Beyond that hitch was a big mysterious room where we assumed the auditions were taking place.

Curious about what lay ahead, I hopped out of line to go to the bathroom, which was just past the big mysterious room, while Izzy and Renee held my place. As I walked past the hitch, I peered into the room, which looked like a concert hall lit with nothing but purple lights, two big screens, and a pattern of green squares in the shape of money projected on the walls. As I passed the room, I saw a man in a suit on stage with a mic in his hand. He spoke to people in the audience who were clamoring for his attention like he was Usher doing a residency in Vegas.

“They’re giving things away in there,” Audrey said to me as she sat on a platform between the two large entrances to the big room. I went to the bathroom at the tip of the L where a man congratulated me on my Eagles Fight Song from earlier. “Great chant back there. You really got the crowd going,” he said. As I left the bathroom and headed back to secure my place in line, I promised Audrey I’d get her chicken fingers from a nearby concession stand. After delivering her the goods, I found my way back to Izzy and Renee.

At this point, we were 3 hours into our journey. Fatigue had started to set in like a cold chill. People were talking less and less. The cheers died down. As my friend in the Dawkins jersey and I cheered for people leaving, we were met with little to no response. Standing in line for 3 hours is hard on your body and your mind. I was convinced that The Price Is Right was trying to break us down just to see if we could build ourselves up again.

As we reached the hook in the L, the casino employee waved us into the big hall where we picked up Audrey.

III. Mini-Footballs in the Big Money Room

We entered the room to find ourselves at the back of what felt like the final line. It snaked throughout the middle of the room in 4 rows. On the left side of the room was the stage that I saw the suited man on earlier.

On the wall behind the stage, there was a giant projector screen playing episodes of The Price is Right. But weirdly enough, they were playing episodes from 2011 on YouTube. Unfortunately, the Rivers Casino does not have access to a YouTube Premium account, so next to the stage sat a man whose sole purpose was to skip the ads on YouTube when they came up. Across from the stage was a giant step and repeat with a cardboard cutout of Drew Carey.

We felt the energy slowly creep back into our bones. After all this time, we were so close. Renee started singing “we’re going to the birthday bar” as we all danced to get our enthusiasm back. Suddenly the suited man returned to the stage and grabbed the mic. He captivated the audience by seemingly doing nothing and being dressed like Dwight from The Office.

“Who loves the Eagles?” the man said. “Yeaaaaa!!” the crowd responded. “What about the Phillies?” he continued. “Yeaaaah!!” yelled the crowd. “What about…the Union,” referring to Philadelphia’s downtrodden MLS team. The crowd responded half-heartedly. Then the man mentioned that he had a special surprise for us and that as Philadelphia sports fans we were going to love it. While he finished speaking, the doors next to the stage flung open as a beaming light emanated into the event space.

The man on stage continued. “Introducing your own…Philly Sports Guy!” Emerging from the light was indeed the Philly Sports Guy. If you’re unfamiliar with Philly Sports Guy (or just learned that this guy you see at Eagles games refers to himself as Philly Sports Guy and seems to have built a business off of it), he’s a kind of well-known Philadelphia superfan. He sports a gelled-up mohawk that’s dyed green with a silver-painted face and pops of kelly green around his eyes and his mouth. He’s usually wearing an Eagles jersey with pads on under it and can be seen cheering on the Birds at the Linc every Sunday. He is our self-appointed people’s champion as Philly sports fans. A man who embodies an extreme characterization of us, which was on par with what all of us were doing to try to get on The Price is Right.

“I’m excited to be here with youse!” the Philly Sports Guy bellowed while donning a Philadelphia Union jersey, his patented silver-painted face, and a blue mohawk. “Youse have been waiting in line for soow long, and I was supposed to be waiting there with ya. So I’m gonna hang out for a bit and give away some free things. Starting wit these!” He pulled four mini-footballs out of his pocket and began throwing them to the crowd. His wife (and/or manager) was behind him in a Philadelphia Union jersey, recording his every movement.

“It’s her birthday!” I screamed while pointing at Renee. He pointed at us and threw a football that hit Renee in the chest and rolled on the ground before I picked it up and handed it to her. “Thank you Jeremy, it’s my birthdaaay!” Renee screamed as we both started dancing. Philly Sports Guy wove through the line with the dexterity of Jerome Bettis scoring from the 1-yard line. People paused and took pictures with him. We did the E-A-G-L-E-S chant a few times, which Miss Crystal couldn’t have been more excited about.

He found his way back to Renee, Izzy, Dawkins jersey, his girlfriend, and me. “I need you to do me a favor,” I said, looking into his silver-painted face. “I need you to start the Fly Eagles Fly song with me.” Philly Sports Guy looked at me with a weariness in his eyes. For a moment he stepped out of character. “I would, buddy, but I think I cooked my voice up there,” as he pointed at the stage. Taking advantage of this moment of connection, he continued. “Plus they won’t even let me go down into the casino after this. Apparently it’s against the law or something.” He uttered the words as he walked away.

I stood there confused at what he was even talking about. Dawkins jersey looked at me and said, “yea apparently you can’t have your face painted in a casino; it’s a state law.” Philly Sports Guy climbed back on the stage, his duties done for the day. He bid the crowd adieu, but not before one last Eagles chant that I’m sure blew out his voice. A sacrifice he made for the spirit of fandom. He waved slowly as he disappeared back into the light of the double doors, followed by his wife/manager. Miss Crystal was ecstatic, holding a little football she managed to catch.

The journey continued as we slowly moved forward. Our group was commenting on old The Price Is Right episodes being projected on the walls to keep our vibes high, mostly discussing how things like a GPS and Sprint mobile phones used to be considered massive prizes.

Emerging from the audition room, we saw a familiar face. It was the old lady with the cane in red who hopped in line with us when we initially entered the casino. She used her veteran savvy to make it to the front of the line to audition ahead of us. She stopped to offer us some unsolicited advice. “When you go in, they’re gonna ask you your name, age, where you’re from, and what would make you a good The Price is Right contestant. Then they gonna ask you to say ‘come on down.’” Anyone who has watched The Price is Right knows the patented catchphrase “Come On Down” whenever someone gets chosen from the audience to participate in the game show.

“What’d you say when they asked you what would make you a good contestant?” Izzy inquired, to which the old lady in red replied, “Because I’m me!” before turning around and walking out of the room.

After 45 minutes, we finally made it to the front. Everyone around us was high-fiving, including three older men who were veterans ahead of us (one of whom proclaimed, “They said they chose me so y’all can all go home”).

We approached the table lined with people from CBS accepting release forms. They reviewed our forms and wrote our names on the big yellow name tags before guiding us to the final room.

In this room, the line was only 6 people long. Each person had one of three colors written on their name tag, which told you the designated area you were assigned for your live audition. Each space was a little cove separated by black curtains with the front wide open so a person behind the camera could ask you questions. Unfortunately, the lack of a front made it so that everyone waiting in line could see and hear your audition. One by one, they called us in. Izzy, Renee, Dawkins jersey, and his girlfriend, and finally me.

As I entered my designated area, I talked to Dan the cameraman. “Wild day, huh?” I said, to which he replied, “Nothing like it” in a genuine tone. He and I riffed a little bit before he started asking me questions. He asked me my name, age, and where I was from, which I tried to answer with an enthusiasm that almost made my head explode.

“What would make you a good The Price Is Right contestant?” he asked. This was the one question I thought I could improvise in the moment, but couldn’t have been more wrong about. I fumbled in my response, managing to cobbble the words together like a science project you built the night before class. “Um, because it combines my two favorite things, solving puzzles and yelling at people.” Dan looked confused but intrigued before quickly moving on to the final test. “Alright, now give me a ‘come on down.’” This I was ready for. I melodically bellowed, “Come on down!” holding the note for so long that I thought I was going to pass out. “You have a great voice,” Dan said reassuringly before we parted ways.

After 30-seconds, it was over. A 4-hour wait for 30 seconds. The long journey was a true test of will, like a triathlon or watching a Cleveland Browns game. As I left the room, I cheered to get the remaining nerves out. A few people responded who saw me do the Eagles Fight Song earlier, but everyone looked exhausted. I met Izzy, Renee, Pam, and Sam next to the Drew Carey cutout. We said nothing about our auditions other than how short they were. We wove our way through the casino towards the exit where the tired crowd had run out of cheers to give.

I drove to South Philly and met the crew at Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar. Upon entering, Renee was blasting Keith Sweat on the jukebox, and we sang “Twisted” together. Everyone was still wearing their yellow name tag with pride. We took shots to celebrate her 60th birthday and befriended some Dodgers fans who were in town for the series against the Phillies.

It was truly a confusing day. A day that made no sense. But also incredible. For one day, getting laid off was kind of great. Sometimes you forget how big and weird life is. And the bigness and weirdness is kind of the point. Honestly, I don’t know if a day like that could happen outside of Philly where sports fandom connects us all in a possibly unhealthy but definitely very fun way. So next time you have the opportunity for a side quest, I say “Come on down!”