I’m rarely a “sports guy” in any real sense (ask me the rules of football) but my predilection for drama leads me inadvertently to root for a few teams who keep it real. Basketball teams. Football teams. When winter melts the cold streets of South Philly, though, and that unmistakable cheesesteak scent washes over the area, I know my favorite team is ready to do business. It’s Phillies season, baby. I would never claim ULTIMATE FAN status, but I’m no ignorant girlfriend at the park, either. I know lineups, depth charts, standings. Occasionally, despite my general fear of numbers, I manage to tuck in a few stats, too. What keeps me a Phillies fan more than athletic prowess, though, is their sense of heart and community. Will Edmondson will never admit to this, but it’s two things that keep them the winning (or tied) team they are:
- They’re not afraid to claim victory when they can smell it.
- They all actually like each other
… Yes, it’s retarded, but awesomely retarded. Ryan Howard and Jimmy Rollins, back-to-back NL MVPs spitting hot fire like The Fresh Prince and DJ Jazzy Jeff, baseball kings in the City of Brotherly Love. And they’re having a good time; they’re clearly enjoying themselves. That’s why they’re successful. Mets fans, you can keep your Jose Reyes Spanish lessons (“mi brazo es un cañon!”) and general reggaeton bullshit. The pennant returns to the Illadelph in October.
One final word: Billy Wagner is a piece of shit.
Henning
smpage
Lifting Fog 