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!!!
Joe Buck is a good sports commentator. He really is. A bit overexposed, maybe, with his ubiquity in major baseball and football events. But that’s because he knows what he’s talking about.
But I have to vent some frustration with him here. I do not want to listen to Buck announce the World Series. He is too dispassionate. He’s too neutral. I understand national announcers aren’t allowed to be biased, but good ones should at least get excited when something happens. When the Phils hit back-to-back homers Saturday night, he called it as though he had just seen a traffic light go from red to green. It was far too matter-of-fact. If I have to hear a network guy do it, I’d rather have someone like Al Michaels.
The worst part is, I don’t get a choice. To hear Philly legend/institution Harry Kalas call the World Series would be incredible; transcendent, even, for those of us who grew up listening to him. But no. I can’t even listen to the home radio feed online because it isn’t synced with the game.
One other quick note about Joe Buck: why does he seem to insist on pointing out how good people’s swings are when they don’t get a hit? He constantly points out players taking a “great rip” when they get a foul ball or they miss completely. It’s Major League Baseball; everyone knows how to swing a bat. I think a swing is only as good as the result it produces.
To say that I am excited right now is a massive understatement. I can’t believe we could win the World Series tonight…
A speck of red in a sea of blue. That’s what we were on Sunday while in attendance at game 3 of the National League Championship Series between the Philadelphia Phillies and the Los Angeles Dodgers. Part of a record attendance, in fact; the largest crowd in the history of Dodger Stadium. I continued my streak of bad baseball luck this year, seeing my Phils get unceremoniously beaten down by the boys in blue, though I am glad to say that as I write this we are sitting on a 3-1 lead and are but a single win shy of an appearance in our first World Series since I was 10.
But as much as I’d like to use this post to analyze the series and how my team has been playing (there will be plenty of that if we continue on to the Fall Classic), I felt compelled to write of my experience behind enemy lines in Chavez Ravine. Philly fans get about as bad a rap as a group of people can get, but I think Dodgers fans should start finally being recognized for their admirable accomplishment of being some of the most mean-spirited in sports.
First, my disclaimers: not all Dodgers fans are nasty, of course. There were some very nice people around us during the game. And during the regular season, their levels of annoyance don’t seem to reach nearly the same heights. I know the postseason is more intense, and I expect to get some crap and to get booed (that’s part of the fun), especially being decked out in the opponent’s colors, so I’m not whining about a little verbal abuse here and there. Plus, there are always drunken idiots at any game who misrepresent the city you’re in. But in all my years going to sporting events in Philadelphia, I’ve never seen so many obnoxious and disrespectful people who genuinely want nothing more than to ruin the whole experience for any outsider in the crowd.
But here are a few observations of idiocy about many of these fans that I couldn’t help but take note of while at the game:
1) They are not clever. Philly fans love having verbal spars with opponents and trying to come up with witty ways to out-insult them in a battle of slightly-inebriated-mind games. Dodgers fans’ vocabulary was limited entirely to: “Phillies suck,” “Philly sucks,” (they often couldn’t agree on which of the first two they wanted to shout) “go back to Philly,” “cheesesteaks suck,” “fuck the Phillies,” and “fuck you.” Oh how rough. If we said anything remotely smart back to them, they huffed, puffed, and looked like they were about to whip out their Glock. I’m sure they would have tried to say something clever, if they knew what they were talking about. Which brings me to my next observation:
2) They don’t seem to know anything about baseball. Again I’m generalizing, as there are plenty of normal, nice baseball fans in LA. I’m just conveying the general overall atmosphere of this game. They all go crazy for Manny, cause all they really know is that the team suddenly started winning games when he joined the team. They also tend to cheer for whoever might have hit a home run the night before, cause homers are cool, right? But they also go overly crazy on every routine play for some reason. They didn’t seem to even realize they were fighting to win their first game of the series. But then again, they don’t seem to care or pay too much attention in the first place. Which brings me to:
3) They don’t give a shit. No wonder they don’t seem to know anything about their own team, they don’t give a rat’s ass about it in the first place. They just seem to realize the playoffs are a good time to have an excuse to act like as big of an asshole as humanly possible. These are fans known for showing up in the 3rd and leaving during the 7th inning stretch (traffic does suck in LA, granted). In Philly we hang on to just about every pitch of a game; by the 8th inning there were three consecutive instances of the crowds chanting for someone to chug their beer. They didn’t even care that their team was winning and seemed bored with the game already.
While wondering if I was crazy and too far removed from the aggressive and passionate Philly sports spirit, I made a very brief search online and came across a few blog posts that echoed my feelings nearly exactly on this.
My hometown is known for some hardcore fan behavior, but I think it’s time Dodgers fans earned some notoriety of their own.
PS - I asked the people behind us if I could take their picture giving me the middle finger, and the guy said “no I won’t do anything vulgar, I have my 14 year old with me and that would be a bad example.” He proceeded to spend the rest of the game shouting “fuck this” and “fuck that” at the top of his lungs.
For the first time in my existence I can say my Phillies are the NL East champs two years in a row. There’s a long way to go on the road through the playoffs, but I’ve already bought a ticket for a Dodgers postseason game in hopes that there will be a Philly-LA matchup.
Just felt compelled to write a quick celebratory note. Now, after the ridiculously close ending of that game, I need to go find where my heart bounced off to after it dropped out of my ribcage….
I always try to make it out to a few Dodgers games each season, and every year I make a point of going when the Phillies are in town. This year I saw the final two games of a four game series between the two teams. Here’s a nice picture of my brother and me on day one:
We look happy because the game started out with Ryan Howard, Greg Dobbs, and Jayson Werth all hitting two-run homers. Things looked good, but little did we know we were about to watch our team lose twice during a four game sweep by a mediocre opponent.
I like Dodger Stadium, but one thing I always notice is its fan class system. We get our tickets and go to an entrance, where we’re greeted with “oh, you’re in infield reserve, you can’t come in here.” OK. So we trek up a large flight of stairs to a more lowly entrance that will accept hooligans like us. Then later in the game I decide to meet up with my friend who is at the same game but two decks below us. I go to the elevator, where a guard asks: “Are you going up or down?” “Down.” “Do you have a ticket?” “No, my friend is down there, we’re just gonna meet up and say hi.” “You can’t go down there. He has to come up.”
Wow. I can’t even get in the elevator lest I disturb the higher class patrons below. I felt like I was in the poor deck of the Titanic, but with less water and fewer deaths. So I tell my friend to come up to me. He tries. They tell him he can’t go up after the 7th inning. Why? It’s just the rules. They don’t want him getting mixed up with a lesser ticketholder such as myself.
Weird. So by the end of the second day as we realized the sweep was upon us, we were significantly less enthused:
The heckling from LA fans really wasn’t too bad, I was a little disappointed. Maybe Dodgers fans know that they’re not gonna win the World Series, either. On a positive note, since LA is my “root-for-them-because-I-live-here-but-not-when-Philly’s-in-town” team, I decided to get this sweet “blue blinking beer cup,” a completely obnoxious flashing plastic cup full of beer. On my way out, after talking to a Philly fan who called Dodgers fans the “worst fans ever,” I said “hey, at least I got this awesome blinking Dodgers cup.” I’ve never seen someone look more disappointed in my life. It was a great moment to cap off a crappy series.
What does All-Star Chase Utley say when some Mets fans boo him while he’s being announced in the Home Run Derby lineup? It ain’t “thank you,” I can tell you that much, but he does utter at least one of those two words. Here’s the video:
Video has since been taken down
True to form, a Philly fan has already made this shirt available to an adoring public. Utley may not have gotten past the first round, but he won the derby in our hearts with that moment.
UPDATE: Chase won our hearts again with this new gem. WORLD FUCKING CHAMPIONS:
The last time I got to see my Phillies in the playoffs was when I was 10 years old. I lived in Boston when the Red Sox won the World Series in ‘04, and that was fun for sure. But it certainly left a lot to be desired, being surrounded by the joy and the triumph of an adopted home team. I was rooting for the Sox for sure, but this wasn’t the team I grew up watching. I hadn’t been to so many Red Sox games that I couldn’t even begin to count them. Quite the opposite in fact; I had been to exactly one Red Sox game at Fenway Park, and that was when the Phillies were in town.
The past few years have been unbearable for fans of the Phillies and the Eagles. I watched the birds go to four straight NFC Championship games, then finally take that next step to the Superbowl only to lose by 3 in a game they could have won. That season took so much out of me I could barely watch the next year, I was still worn out from putting so much energy into my team. The Phightin’ Phils didn’t fare much better. Two years ago they were eliminated on the final day of the season, last year on the second-to-last day. Even this year they brought it down to the last day, but FINALLY won the East for the first time since ‘93. I repeatedly played the video footage of the final out and the celebration afterwards, listening to longtime commentator Harry Kalas with a lump in my throat. It was a similar feeling to when I got choked up as Donovan McNabb held the NFC Championship trophy high above his head to a roaring crowd at Lincoln Financial Field with confetti streaming down.
The Phillies have a long way to go before they can get to the World Series, but baseball is the hardest sport to make it to the playoffs so it was a special moment all the same. I can’t even really describe how I felt on Sunday after it happened. There seems to be a general feeling among fans that just making the playoffs was all we needed. Even if they don’t go all the way, we’ll be happy with the season. That’s not to say I won’t be bummed with anything less than a world championship, of course. They lost the first game to the Rockies today, and my stomach gets tied in knots just thinking about the next game. Sunday morning I literally woke up on 3 separate occasions from nightmares that the Phillies were losing and the Mets were winning. I can’t help myself. There is a part of me in this team.
To the 2007 Philadelphia Phillies I say thank you for an exciting season. It was filled with ups and downs, frustration and happiness, but we finally made it. I drink this beer for you. Hell, better make that 5 or 6.
