It makes me appreciate the Phillies more somehow

Somehow because of the immense appreciation that already exists for the Phillies in my brain. With any luck they will be the most dominant hometown team a Philadelphia homer will ever see. Filled with great baseball, irrepressible and clutch and dirty and other adjectives. The Reds were called the Little Red Machine* this year but not any more. Also the Phillies color could also also be considered red, with the hats and all. Perhaps 'Little Red Machine' is a play on the actual team name and baseball history, but people who say that have never read The Giver.



The subject of the title of this post though is the prologue of Don Delillo's novel Underworld, and the raw enjoyment I derived in reading it. Delillo's prose is certainly more fun than 900 pages 15th Century Spanish in translation, i.e. Don Quixote. Anecdotally: I ripped through the 60 page Underworld prologue in one sitting the first time. And there is likely another reading coming before the end of the baseball playoffs. And then another some day in December when I really miss baseball. Televised baseball is everyday and then not at all, cold turkey.

Basic summary: Jackie Gleason vomits on Frank Sinatra's shoes while Bobby Thompson hits 'The Shot Heard Round The World' among other things. The other things include a kid who jumps the turnstiles and paper falling from the upper decks and J. Edgar Hoover. And now I've done more research, via a google image search, and the prologue was actually a separate thing, at one point, called "Pafko at the wall" until it became the Underworld prologue, at which point it became "The Triumph of Death" which is the name of the painting that J. Edgar Hoover is looking at because it fell on him while Gleason was vomiting.



Whatever, Delillo loves him his crazy style. And the ideas are funny/poignant. I'm no literary scholar, but I've certainly read enough to post about him on the internet. Airborne Toxic Event ain't just a LA indie band. So as jarring as it may be to jump from 1951 baseball to some broad painting 230 bombers in a post-cold war USA desert, you know its going somewhere. Like, I trust this author. There are going to be sudden changes in setting, and tangents about waste and sex and death and crowds and whatever else, but at the end, the audience is going to know what happens. Which really is kind of important when trying to tell a story.



*It's possible I'm remembering this wrong and the nickname was something less demeaning.

A conversation I have had multiple times

Me: Going to the Phils game tomorrow
Other person: Nice. Who's pitching?
Me: Fucking Joe Blanton/Jamie Moyer.
Other person: expression of marginal sympathy
Me: Yeah, I got season tickets, we see this asshole every time and its getting old.
Other person: Season tickets? Don't you get to see all the games?
Me: It's just a partial season plan, and I got half a seat, so 8 games or so. I see your eyes glazing over.
Other person: ...
Me: Our seats are in left field so I can't even see the pitcher, the main concern is who is playing left field for the opposing team. It's good when they win.
Other person: Oh yeah?
Me: We yell at them. The left fielders.

Backwash

See, now I'm looking at that rant from earlier this week and thinking it is embarassing. Stupid brain, so petulant. As a way of amends making, here is a video of some tubby chick grinding on a guy in a hoverround at a Phillies game.



Well. Clearly its no threesome with two black prostitutes at the same time* but I'm not going to look for anything remotely resembling that on youtube right now. Also. I was looking back in the archives for something good and Phillies related - perhaps you would be interested in it? No? Well fuck you here's stuff anyway.

Odds on World Series MVP. I was right!

This photo was something I made. Shark messiah! I forget why. Probably sad about the 10,000th loss.



Or how about this one, where I learn important life lessons about heckling white baseball players or something. Dammit, where is that one where I took a picture of a retarded Mets fan. Oh here it is.

This is way easier that trying to come up with something new, that's for sure. Plus like half the things on here in the summer months have at least some Phillies non sequitor, ie BAAHHHHHHH JOE BLANTON.

Not to say I don't have any ideas for goats bait, but I'm just lazy/hungover/busy/there's soccer on/some new Netflix just arrived/excuse du jour. Also I need someone to take pictures of me running over my phone with my bike. Using the timer option on the camera is too tricky, I've found. So for now, I'll just quote myself out of context. So meta!

Some "baseball purists" might say that fan interference ruins the sport, that the players on the field should determine the result. Pffft, gay. The real problem with this idea is that some might hesitate to part with their $7 beers. But in reality, isn't $7 a small price to pay for the respect of your peers and the broadcast television audience? If there's any genuine truth in this world, it's that everyone loves someone who disrupts a sporting event. Also if you drink half the beer first it mitigates some of the cost, without significant lessening of the projectiles soaking ability.

*Which I have been informed is every man's dream.

Good

Well this happened some 12 hours ago, so if you are like me and spend your mornings on the Internet, its already old hat. In case you don't, some guy threw a beer on Victorino yesterday at Wrigley Field. There are predicable responses from the peanut gallery: All cubs fans are dicks; Not all Cubs fans are dicks just cause this one guy is; Phillies fans are worse cause they beat people to death; or some joke about Bartman. We've heard it all before, sometimes twice. I say fuck you and your cliche comments. Take your righteous indignation and shove it up your ass. Or better yet, put it in a cup and throw it at an all-star centerfielder. Real all-stars make the catch.

Maybe its "classless" or whatever, but I think more fans should throw beers on players while they are trying to make catches against the fence. It adds an air of unpredictability and uncertainty to what is already one of the more exciting parts of baseball (Will the ball go out for a home run? Will the player injure himself running into the wall? Is there something I can flip to on another channel?) The fact is baseball can be boring to watch on television to the average layperson. There just isn't a lot of action; I say more, not less, flying beverages are a possible solution.

Some "baseball purists" might say that fan interference ruins the sport, that the players on the field should determine the result. Pffft, gay. The real problem with this idea is that some might hesitate to part with their $7 beers. But in reality, isn't $7 a small price to pay for the respect of your peers and the broadcast television audience? If there's any genuine truth in this world, it's that everyone loves someone who disrupts a sporting event. Also if you drink half the beer first it mitigates some of the cost, without significant lessening of the projectiles soaking ability.

Screw you Phillies

So you guys are in first place, yet I've somehow been to 8 straight losses? You're a clever goose. Why the hate for season ticket holders with the "A" plan? Has our constant heckling of Pat Burrell caused him great mental anguish? Did he then try to assuage his tormented soul by playing subtle mind games with the other hitters during batting practice, screwing up their swings with his well-known Burrell shuffle technique? Seems unlikely.

I thought for sure yesterday the streak would be broken. Cole "Hollywood" Hamels was on the mound against some young Marlins guy no one has ever heard of -- surely a recipe for a W. But beware the unknown Florida arm, because the Phils got shut out. Truly disheartening.

Fuck it, let's dance. That'll perk things up.

It's almost like some sort of 'rivalry'

A few late Mets-Phillies thoughts while watching Cheeseheads give Geoff Jenkins a standing ovation.

The only reason so many Mets fans show up at Phillies home games is because CBP is about 50 times better than Shea (plus it has fenced in escalators). And no, I've never been to Shea. I don't plan on going.

At the game on Saturday we were in full witness to the the bellig. I wanted to make a whole photo story post about it, but that didn't happen because I didn't take enough pictures. Also, I estimate that I drank for about 12 hours, which may be related. Highlights included this paraphrased exchange with a fat Mets fan across the aisle.
Me: How was September last year?
Fattie: How was getting swept in the playoffs?
Me: How was not making the playoffs?
This went on for a while. Then things took a personal turn.
Fattie: I want my tablecloth back. (referring to the shirt I was wearing, which I guess resembles a tablecloth)
Me: I bet you do! (excessive obnoxious laughter)
Fattie: /leaves game early

But the real news is that we've finally got definitive proof that Mets fans are retarded.


See you all in hell!

The worm turns

Well, that was exciting. The Phils scored four runs in the bottom of the ninth last night to beat the mighty(?) Astros 4 to 3. It was a pretty amazing finish -- Geoff Jenkins scored the winning run from first on a ball hit down into the corner by Pedro Feliz. It's debateable whether or not Jenkins was actually safe, but after the luck the Philly teams have had of late, the fans will most assuredly take it. Especially after watching 8 innings of their team being shut out by the force that is Shawn Chacon.



Yeah he was probably out. But its nice to see a call go our way after the abortion that was the Cavs-Sixers game on Monday night, and the phantom homerun by the Cubs of all teams over the weekend. Stupid minibears. Also, Jose Reyes was out at the plate last week.

All in all, a good way to start the week -- the team needs to get in form for this weekend's big series with the Mets. The weather is getting warmer too -- I'm sure we fans'll be full o' bellige. I will be drunk and possibly surly at Saturday's game (4 pm start means plenty of time to tailgate beforehand).

Opening Day: A picture gallery

The Phillies are losing, which is the real indication that baseball's back -- at least if you live in the Phillopolis. To celebrate, lets take a look at some baseball images that may or may not have appeared here in the past.

Needless to day, I am pretty excited and not sober about the new season. Especially because of the season tickets.


The best analogy I can make for the Phils is that they are like a bunch of robotic lions that join together and form a giant robot man that possibly shoot lasers out of its eyes or hands. Is it sad I am prouder of this 'shop than anything else I've ever done?


I forget how I came up with the idea for this one, but it certainly proves my debilitating racism. (Note: racism probably not debilitating). Gorillas don't take steroids!



Hmm, what other teams are good in the National League? Brewers? Cubs? If only those two teams could be combined into an underage drunken bear. Wait a minute ...


Well that's not really all that baseball related, sue me. JROLL YARD BITCH TIES FOR ALL.


Who could forget Victorino as creationist Jesus? His favorite film is The Passion of the Christ for some reason.


It seems most of the stuff in the archives is Phillies related. It's almost like I prefer that team over the others. But I know we have at least one twins fan who stops by on occasion, and whose favorite author is Kent Hrbek no doubt.



Well the Phils are now down 4 and that's about all I can manage for now. In closing: Mr. Met is a kid toucher.

Hahahaha .... Japan

You know baseball is back when the locker-room hijinks start. In the above video, Brett Myers took a break from being a gaping asshole to be a hilarious asshole. He enlisted about half the Phillies organization to help him convince Kyle Kendrick that he had been traded to some Japanese team for "Kobayashi." I prefer to think it was the Kobayashi from Usual Suspects rather than the champion hot dog eater. It's more high-brow that way.

Fight the power

M-V-P, M-V-P, M-V-P

Well here we are. It's October and the Phillies are inexplicably still alive. Despite missing Ryan Howard and Chase Utley for about a month each. Despite the presence of Adam Eaton (left off the playoff roster, thank god). Despite Charlie Manuel's midseason fight with a "noted" radio personality. Despite the bullpen's tendency for domestic abuse. Despite it all, and somehow in despite of history, the team will face God's team of destiny in the divisional round starting Wednesday.

I must admit, Wes Helms notwithstanding, I love this team. I want to gently hold it while it whispers sweet nothings in my ear. I want to spend all night walking with it on the streets of New York or perhaps Paris, sharing our deepest passions until the sun comes up. I want to put it in its butt.


It wasn't always this way. Earlier this summer the team earned derision for its 10,000th loss. As little as a month ago the thought of the Phillies overtaking the unstoppable juggernaut that was the New York Mets was implausible at best.

But then they swept those Mets. And then they swept them again. And then Jose Reyes realized that he is a bitch. And the Phillies line-up (sparked by Pat Burrell no less) started running through National League pitchers like a werewolf with a chainsaw for a dick.

They had 48 come from behind wins. Think about that for a second. Of their 89 wins, more than half came after they trailed. Of course when your pitching staff resembles a MASH unit for much of the year, it becomes necessary. Anybody remember Jon Lieber? How bout that Freddy Garcia signing? Praise Kyle Kendrick.

So now they face that other team that made an improbable run just to make the postseason. Chances are many a pitcher will want to tap out after a few to many innings in the two best hitters parks in baseball. But anything can happen. They have the opportunity. Despite the presence of Dane Cook, I cannot wait. Go Phils.

Oh yeah, and if you haven't seen it, check out Mr. Met's ill-fated suicide attempts, followed by an assist from the Phanatic in this sketch from Conan.

phillies fever

It's true, Victorino is the Phillies creationist Jesus. I have no idea what that means.

Also, if anyone wants to talk/be quoted in a story about the Phillies, hit me up on my cell Tuesday.

I'll have something more coherent on the Phils before Game 1.

It's on like voltron

Six games. Half a fucking dozen. That's all there is. Win 'em all and it's playoffs. This is the year?

The Padres are imploding. Thanks to my friend and yours Milton Bradley, their season is scrabbled their postseason hopes are at risk they aren't acting like hungry hungry hippos in regards to the playoffs.

Just saying, it's nice to see another team imploding. I am not in anyway assuming that the Phillies are going to make the playoffs. That would be foolish. No whammies.

Make em say uhhhhhhh, na-na na-na

I'm down here slangin, rollin with these hustlers
Tryin to get rid of all you haters and you bustas
-Pat "The Bat" Burrell*

Yeah the Phils just wrapped up an epic 4-game sweep of the Mets. The last three games were decided on the final at-bat.

First Ryan Howard hit a walk-off homer on Tuesday. Then Marlon Anderson was called for interference in while trying to break up a double play on Wednesday. And then Chase Utley, fresh of the DL, came through with a game-winning hit in the bottom of the ninth today.

Burrell continued his career-long raping of the Mets -- hows it feel boys?

And lets all give a big "ahhhh so" to Tadahito Iguchi, who has been going all kamikaze on NL pitchers since coming over from the White Sox. He got the game tying RBI and scored the game winning run today. Nips.

I gotta go drinking so as a closing thought, Billy Wagner gave up like 800 steals in the 9th inning this afternoon. I'll take old Wifebeater McAngry over him any day of the week and twice on Sunday. It's appropriate. Two games back bitches!


*may or may not have been said by Pat Burrell

Brett Myers: Classy Individual

I'm sure you are all aware of Phillies closer Brett Myers blowing the game by giving up two dongs on Saturday night. No? Well take it from me it was awful. Just a small part of the Phillies slow march toward losing the Wild Card by one game. I think it will be to the Braves this year. But what you may not have heard is the postgame blowup between Myers and a 20some-year veteran of the Inquirer sportsdesk. Here's a transcript of the exchange via Bugs & Cranks. I am going to refrain from any domestic abuse jokes.

Sam Carchidi: “You thought they both were pop ups?”

Brett Myers: “Yeah, didn’t you? You think they crushed ‘em?”

SC: “The first one I thought was out, the second one no.”

BM: “Yeah, cause you’re a retard, you don’t know shit about fuckin’ baseball. You’re filling in for somebody.”

SC: “How do you spell ‘retard’?”

BM: “You know how to spell it, it’s in your fuckin’ vocabulary, I’m sure you know.”

SC: “You are classy, I’ll tell ya.”

BM: “Go on. [Get] outta here, you fuckin’ idiot.”

SC: [pointing at Brett Myers] “You’re the fuckin’ idiot.”

BM: “Hey! You pointin’ at me motherfucker?! I’ll tell you what, dude, I’ll knock you mutherfucking out! FUCK YOU!!! You’re tough when fuckin’ people are standing in front of you, aren’t you, you piece of shit! Come on! You fucking idiot. Yeah, you’re tough when fuckin’ people are standing in front of you, you stupid ass.”

SC: “I’m a retard?”

BM: “Yeah, that’s right, YOU ARE, you’re a fucking idiot. You ask stupid ass fucking questions!”

In no way am I influenced by my journalistic background in saying that Brett Myers is on steroids.

Although the reporter is clearly being a prick. I know old heads like that guy at work -- they are all like "the internet is fad" and shit.

Edited audio of the exchange here.

An epic achievement

No, not King James' performance of "My Lebrogative" on the ESPYs. But this:


Thats right. It's Von Hayes, who to better represent the Phillies 10,000th loss. Well known as part of the 5 for 1 541 deal in the '80s in which the Phils traded away such luminaries as Manny Trillo, George Vukovich, Jay Baller, Jerry Willard, and Julio Franco (still alive!).

That little factoid is one of many hilariously stupid chapters that make up the Philadelphia Phillies long and sordid history.

Here is one such story. It's no blowing a 6 game lead with 10 to play in 1964, or shitty owner William F. Baker building a giant fence over the right-field wall so hall-of-fame left-handed hitter Chuck Klein wouldn't challenge any of Babe Ruth's home run records, because then Klein would deserve more money that Baker didn't want to pay, or even some idiotic Ed Wade move (Pat Burrell).

No this is back in the halcyon days of 1993, when the Phillies rode steriod-fueled Lenny Dykstra, psychotic misogynist Darren Daulton, two-nutted John Kruk, "Wild Thing" Mitch Williams and a bunch of other yahoos to the brink of a World Series championship. There's no need to rehash what happened.


Sidenote: My Joe Carter hate manifested itself while I was in college and said slugger became the terribly bad color man for the Cubs. I remember one particular instance, when they were playing the Phillies and Carter described a middling Phillies starter thusly:

"Robert Person is a man who loves life itself."

Anyway, this tale is from Game 4 of said Phillies-Blue Jays series. The Phillies had a 14-9 lead in the eighth inning of a rainy, ridiculous game.

Actually lets back up: I remember sitting the the 700 level of Veterans Stadium, putting on a poncho, when Dykstra hit his second home run of the night in the fifth inning. It was the moment that got me through the strike in 1994, besides maybe momma thope cheering the Phils to a World Series championship in 1980 with yours truly in utero.

Needless to say the Phillies lost game 4. By now most of the memories have faded into an idle distrust of Tony Fernandez, Todd Stottlemyre and Paul Molitor. But that moment, when the rain was coming down and the crowd was rising up ... well, it defies description.

So here's video of Veteran's stadium imploding.
It's about the same feeling.