Unbelievable. Unforgettable. Unreal. Indescribable. And now, completely undeniable. I didn’t know what to do with myself today. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t calm down. I couldn’t think about anything but how great yesterday was, and what a rollercoaster of emotion this whole thing has been. What a way to end such an incredible season. There were flashbacks to key moments this year; to recent disappointments; to Joe Carter; to watching a team for my whole life and just wondering what it would be like if they won it all. The feeling of loving this particular cast of characters, and knowing I’d feel devastated if they didn’t get what I truly felt like they deserved.

The 1993 Phillies were a colorful bunch, for sure. But this Phillies team was just as special, and the gift they gave me of watching my team in a World Series for the first time since I was 10 years old made me appreciate them even more. Chase Utley, a cornerstone of the team, a still seemingly unsung player with the best stats of any second baseman in baseball for the past few years. He made the team a force to be reckoned with by storming out of the gates with an MVP first-half performance. He is the very essence of a great all around player that can lead by example.

Ryan Howard can bring some mixed reactions from some people, but the fact still stands: even when he slumps, a pitcher must fear him. You never know when he will bust out of that slump with a home run binge that will make everyone else look like they belong in little league. For every defensive error, he provided a genuinely impressive play at first base. Don’t criticize how often he strikes out; recognize that he gets more RBIs in a year than most players can even dream of. Oh, and we share a birthday, so he must be cool.

Jimmy Rollins had an unusually mediocre year. But the fact is, the 2007 NL MVP is a born leader and part of the heart and soul of the Phillies. Pat “The Bat” Burrell may be gone soon, but I’m glad he was a part of this win. I don’t care about all the times he under performed, and I don’t care that he’s slow. He played a huge role in the Championship season.

What more can one say about Victorino? An amazing player with versatility and drive. Aaron who? Shane is our center fielder. Werth stepped up big time and filled in for a disappointing Jenkins (who had one hell of a big hit in Game 5). Feliz had some clutch hits (including the game winner for the Series) and was an obvious step up from Wes Helms. Ruiz showed me that he is one of the smartest and most patient batters on the team, despite his modest batting average. Coste has heart and can swing a bat. Bruntlett proved to be an indespensible utility man. Dobbs and Stairs (or Stairmaster as I call him) are clutch pinch hitters.

And how about that pitching staff? Cole the 24 year old ace, Myers the minor league comeback story of the year, old man Moyer and his bafflingly slow but well-placed pitches, Blanton and his World Series home run, Romero, Madson (bridge to Lidge), the whole rest of the bullpen, and let’s not forget Lights Out Lidge. How often do you get to see perfection?  Not very often.

This is a team that, when firing on all cylinders, is literally unstoppable. Most of these players are streaky, so the end result was very truly a team effort and a result of everyone’s contributions and Charlie Manuel’s superb managing (never really thought I’d ever say that).

And then there’s the city. The city of Philadelphia. The forgotten town that’s near New York. The birthplace of America. The home of some of the most passionate and interesting people in the country, who reflect the character and attitude of this very team. Starved for an opportunity to celebrate. Jaded by constant disappointment. Constantly haunted by feelings that everything is about to go downhill. I had ‘em right up to the last pitch. But they didn’t go downhill at all this time. Was it because William Penn is finally resting peacefully after his (small) statue was placed atop the Comcast building? Or was it just that we played good enough baseball this year, plain and simple?

Long waits have been a theme for this town. Long waits for a major Championship team. A long wait for the end of a sometimes-excruciatingly-long baseball season filled with so many ups and downs, hopes and doubts. And, in true “that would totally happen to us” Philadelphia fashion, a two day wait to even finish the final game of the World Series. Tuesday morning couldn’t have been worse for so many of us. Left to wonder what would happen while recovering from the emotional crash that followed a rain-suspended game. I was afraid I had lost the enthusiasm I had the night before because it came to such a screetching halt.

Those fears were unfounded, of course. I couldn’t have been more excited yesterday. I was shaking, scared shitless watching one of the most exciting games (er, half-games) of my entire life. Scratch that… the most exciting game of my life. I was in a Philly bar, surrounded by friends, friends-in-spirit, and even family. It erupted in joy; I always wanted to know what it would feel like if we won. I don’t have to wonder anymore. And I couldn’t be happier. Chugging champagne, not caring about the inevitable hangover that would follow. Driving home way too fast, blasting music (”Glory Days” by Bruce Springsteen appropriately graced the airwaves that night). Happily tearing my “tortured Philly fan” t-shirt in half (pictured below). Happily dropping way too much money for all the merch I can handle. This is something I have been waiting for my entire life. And you know what? It wasn’t the least bit disappointing.

I’m sure Philly was insane. In fact, I know it was; I saw photos and videos. It looked awesome. I got a taste of that when I was in Boston when the Red Sox won (and the Patriots, three damn times). But deep down my heart was not at all into those. My heart sure was in Philly last night and all of today. Of course there are a few bad seeds — I heard about the 76 people getting arrested and couldn’t help but wonder if they did that on purpose, such an appropriate number. But for the rest of you, that must have been a lot of fun. And going to those games must have been incredible, though I was lucky enough to get to an NLCS game between the Phils and the Dodgers here in LA.

I considered flying home for the parade, but tickets were way too expensive. In the end, all I can really say is this: Philly, I wish I could have been there to share this moment with you. But you can rest assured I am there in spirit, along with every Philly fan around the world. A part of us was completed this week. PHILLIES WORLD SERIES CHAMPS 2008!!!

While watching TV recently, a commercial came on for the American Express business card. In it, a man puts down his credit card to pay for lunch. On his card is a drawing of the comic book character The Flash, and he is laughed at, presumably for being childish, unattractive, and for maxing out his toy Playskool credit card.

But out of the corner of my eye, something else caught my attention about his card. Take a closer look at the screen shot below:

That’s right; thanks to DVRs and the ability to pause TV, I was able to confirm that it is indeed my credit card, which the dude must have stolen from me. And yes, my Brown Fabrics company is thriving. Seriously, though, I can only assume someone at the ad agency was giving me a congratulatory shout out for now being the number one Evan Brown on the Internet.

Dear Ringo Starr,
Hi. It’s Evan. You don’t know me, but I’m a lifelong Beatles fan. There seem to be a lot of those out there, and apparently you’ve come across quite a few in your day. I’m sure you’ve gotten lots of fan mail saying how much your music has meant to them, how they can’t even convey the importance of Beatles songs in their life. They probably ask for a lot of autographs, too–for a little memento that maybe they’ve somehow managed to express a fraction of their appreciation to you.

But no more, I suppose. After seeing the video you posted on your website last week telling people not to send you any mail, presumably ever again, starting October 20th because you’ll just throw it in the dumpster, I figured it just must have been too much for you.

Maybe it’s only fair. You’ve spent decades having to scribble your name with a Sharpie, maybe you think that you deserve a break. I sign credit card receipts far more than autographs, so there’s no real way for me to empathize with you. But I just thought I’d throw a few pointers your way, from the perspective of a fan and wannabe musician, to make your next attempt at something like this go a little more smoothly:

1) You know what’s a lot easier than making half your fans think you’re a douchebag? Just stopping without telling anyone. If I sent you a Beatles lunchbox to sign and never got it back, I’d say “that’s too bad. I didn’t really expect Ringo Starr to mail something back to me anyway.” Then I’d forget about it forever and still think you were likely a charming guy.

2) Next time you decide to alienate a large cross-section of your fanbase, try not to leave any loopholes open. For example, you only requested that no one send you fan mail or stuff to sign anymore. I couldn’t help but notice you failed to mention anything about hate mail, which ironically you will no doubt be receiving a hell of a lot more of.

3) Don’t patronize us by continually saying “peace and love” to dull the blow of your message. If that got people out of stuff, it would have been used countless times in history. The folks at Enron could have said, “peace and love everyone, we screwed you out of your life’s savings while we got even richer, but we’re doing it with peace and love,” and all the employees would have said “well, my life may be ruined, but at least the CEO was shooting me some super positive vibes!”

I guess you’re a really important guy. I guess you chose this seemingly arbitrary moment in time for a good reason. And I guess this letter just missed being posted on October 20th, but please don’t try to throw my humble little website away. Not that you’ll be reading this anyway… You have far too many better things to do.

Sincerely,
Evan.

I can’t help but notice every time I see McCain speak that he talks an awful lot like Gopher from the Winnie the Pooh cartoons.

I’ll let them speak for themselves. First, McCain:

Notishh the way he shhayshh the letter “s.” Now let’s listen to Gopher:

I think that settles it. Gopher is a Republican and Winnie the Pooh is right wing propaganda. How did I not notice that when I was 7 years old??