Beantown's deflated identity: Is it an Olympic hurdle?

BOSTON — These, as that old patriot Thomas Paine wrote in 1776, are the times that try men's souls.

They're trying souls in Greater Boston, which should be exalting in a Super Bowl berth; a successful step toward hosting the Olympics; and fresh hope for later bar closing times and legal happy hours.

Instead, the local psyche is haunted by questions: Is this really a world-class city? If not, does it want to be? Did its football team let the air out of the ball?

The city's recent travails have unleashed potent emotions:

• Shame: Having defeated the Indianapolis Colts to advance to the Super Bowl, the New England Patriots are widely suspected of illegally under-inflating the footballs to favor quarterback Tom Brady.

• Ambivalence: Having defeated Los Angeles, San Francisco and Washington for the right to tender the official U.S. bid to host the 2024 Summer Olympics, the city is conflicted over whether it actually wants the Games — and the traffic, costs and outsiders that come with it.

• Indecision: Having established itself as a world center of higher education, academic medicine and history tourism, the city is revisiting — via the Olympics issue — whether to be a "24-hour city" where the subway runs all night and the bars stay open past 2 a.m. (which sounds late enough if you're from Green Bay).

That's right. This sports-crazed city (four storied pro teams, the Boston Marathon, the head of the Charles Regatta, the nation's top college hockey squad) is shrugging off the world's greatest athletic event. And this international student mecca is worried that it's not Party Town.

It points to one conclusion. Boston — the Cradle of Liberty, the Athens of America, The Hub — seems to be having an identity crisis.

Is this the Boston of Red Auerback, the Celtics basketball coach who'd do anything to win, including turning up the heat in the visitors' locker room? Or of Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., the scrupulous Supreme Court justice who urged lawyers to "connect your subject with the universe and catch an echo of the infinite … a hint of the universal law."

Is it the Boston of Cotton Mather, the Puritan minister who condemned drunkenness, dancing and witchcraft? Or of the Dropkick Murphys, the Celtic punk band ("We're gonna cause a riot/We're gonna rip it up!'')?

Is it the Boston of Ed Logue, the urban renewal advocate who under Mayor John Collins dragged Boston into the 20th century (in the 1960s), or of Jane Jacobs, the smaller-is- better urbanist, who once said Logue "tosses people and small businesses around ruthlessly''?

Dan Monti, who lived and taught in the city for 18 years and wrote a book about it, Engaging Strangers, says this is a key moment for Boston's "resurgence as a modern, 24-hour city. It's an occasion for everyone to talk about what kind of city they want, and what price they're willing to pay to realize that vision.''

As a city, Boston is relatively small. Its population of about 650,000 is less than that of El Paso or Columbus, Ohio. As a state of mind — defined mostly by its pro sports — it stretches north to Maine, west to the Berkshires and south to an ill-defined line near Hartford where Yankee pinstripes appear.

If Boston is or would be a world city, then Deflategate is an embarrassment, the Olympics are a must, and trains should run 'round the clock. If it's not, then who cares what anyone thinks about Deflategate, the Olympics are a costly nuisance, closing time stays at 2 and everyone gets a good night's sleep.

Only one thing is clear — Boston is not New York, where the bars (which seem to adorn each corner) close at 4 and the subway never stops. As a spokesman for Boston's mass transit agency once put it, "This is not the city that doesn't sleep. This city does sleep."

New York is twice as big, rich and lively as any American city. Only Boston seems to take it personally.

That's partly because once, Boston was all those things. But in the 19th century, New York eclipsed it financially and culturally. And in 1919, it stole Babe Ruth from the Red Sox, beginning the "Curse of the Bambino'' that prevented the Sox from winning the World Series.

But in 2004, the Sox beat the Yankees in the playoffs and won the series. Since then, with championships in three other major team sports, "Boston has become a city of winners,'' says Monti.

Which is why Deflategate has hit so hard. You welcome a happy hour after reading this from Boston Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy:

"The most important thing — the Patriot legacy — is lost. …. Everything is tainted. … Nationally, they are loathed and branded as cheaters, and once again they have handed the hammer to their legion of enemies. … The ballgame that matters is over. And the Patriots have lost.''

(The "once again'' refers to the 2007 episode known as "Spygate.'' The Patriots covertly videotaped New York Jets defensive coaches' signals in what the NFL said was violation of its rules.)

But Monti says Deflategate will be forgotten two weeks after the Super Bowl. The Olympics decision, on the other hand, is one for the ages.

Unfortunately, the city hardly seems of one mind on the issue.

A day after Boston was chosen as the U.S. bidder for 2024, Mayor Marty Walsh said the Games would not be rammed "down people's throats,'' adding: "I'd be willing to bet if you took a poll today, the majority of Bostonians are excited about this bid."

But a poll subsequently released by WBUR radio found that slightly less than half of Bostonians (48%) describe themselves as excited; 43% say they are not.

And some people are excited in a different way. Here's Howie Carr, the conservative local columnist and radio talk show host, reacting to Boston's selection earlier this month: " NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

That's the wrong kind of excitement for the International Olympic Committee, which likes its hosts to relish their role, preferably without Vladimir Putin holding a gun to their heads.

A citizens' committee, fearing what former Mayor Ray Flynn calls "the chaos, costs and disruption'' of the Games, is pressing for a referendum. Mayor Walsh first said a referendum was unnecessary, then said he'd not oppose one and finally said he does not support one. The WBUR poll found that three-quarters of Bostonians want to vote on the issue.

Larry DiCara, a former City Council member, says the Olympics would be important in part because the Games would push the city to become a friendlier place for the young professionals, tech geeks and international travelers whose attitudes will help determine its future.

DiCara, 65, used to tell Mayor Thomas Menino (who died last year), "When you and I are getting ready for bed, these people are getting ready to go out.'' Less willing to party in place than students, they want places to go — and mass transit to get them there and back.

The problem, DiCara says, is the city is so dense and compact. Everyone likes the idea of a neighborhood bar, except when it's next door.

Also, state alcohol licensing laws restrict the number of licensed establishments in the city and bans discounted drinks. It's a legacy of the time when the state government was controlled by dry Yankee Republicans after the city was taken over by wet Irish Democrats.

Until recently, the governor, rather than the mayor, even appointed the three commissioners who hand out the city's limited number of liquor licenses. And last year, a Walsh proposal to allow later bar closings was shot down by the state Legislature.

"These things hang on,'' says Monti. "But should the Olympics come, the debate will gain more traction and probably be resolved in a more customer-friendly way. The city fathers will let bars stay open longer and run more trains later at night.''

An Olympics would cut against Boston's ingrained insularity, he says, because business opportunities always arise when outsiders arrive: "It makes even the stodgiest Boston Brahmin tingle in anticipation of making more money.''

Bostonians know there's more to life than money, or football. As a reminder, they have the trial of the man accused in the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing now underway at the federal courthouse.

The year 2024 is a long way off. But, Monti says, "Bostonians have earned the chance to celebrate themselves on the world stage.'' With the support of a popular mayor and an energized business community, he says, "I doubt they'll pass it up.''