Phlying High

When I woke up Thursday morning and realized that the night before had been no dream, I jumped out of bed. Not that I wasn't tired, mind you. I was exhausted. I'd stayed up until about 3 in the morning, watching every highlight, interview, and pithy analysis, for two reasons:

1) I wanted to make the moment last as long as humanly possible, and

2) I wanted to make sure that everything I thought I'd just seen had actually happened.

And I don't know about you, but the layoff between has been a strange blessing for me as a fan. It's allowed me time to celebrate being National League champions and has afforded many an opportunity to factually say the words, "We're going to the World Series." It's created moments like one from a concert I went to the other night. I passed a guy in a Phillies hat and went up to him, put out my hand, and just said, "Phiiiiils!" He said, "I know! Say it with me now, 'We're going to the World Series.'" And it's given me time to watch baseball, while our season yet continues, without eating my fingernails.

Cole Hamels pitched another incredible game, making one mistake to the machine-like Manny, with no one on. The numbers are amazing: 2-0, 1.93 ERA in 14 innings; 3-0 for the playoffs with just 3 runs given up in 22 innings. And Jimmy Rollins may not be hitting up a storm just yet, but leadoff home runs can be devastating for a home team and crowd, and Jimmy's now done that in each series. And what else can be said about Shane Victorino, a warrior in every aspect of the game of baseball. The catch against the Best Buy sign (and Tim McCarver's brilliant comment that Victorino is probably the team's best buy of the last 10 years), is one I will never forget.

But there were some other incredible things that happened, that are at least worth mentioning, if not marveling over the fact that all of them, and not just one, happened:

1) Pat Burrell made a fantastic catch. I'm going to say that again: Pat Burrell made a fantastic catch. In the bottom of the sixth, Andre Ethier sent a shot deep into the corner of left field, that Burrell reached, caught and somehow hung onto. (And then--though perhaps I'm exaggerating--it seemed like he looked up right into the Dodgers fans' eyes, as if to say, "No no. No reason to get excited. I got it.")

2) In the bottom of the ninth, Casey Blake rocked an offering of Brad Lidge's very deep to centerfield. With his back literally to the wall, Victorino made the catch look easy. What is amazing is not so much the catch itself, but the fact that Blake's hit just didn't make it. That ball could not have been hit any deeper without being a home run that would've made things a whole lot scarier than they were. How often does that happen for us? How often is it exactly the opposite, with the ball finding a way somehow over the fence?

3) After Manny's home run ended Hamels' shutout bid, Russell Martin came up and worked the count full. And on a borderline pitch that Martin took, home plate umpire Mike Winters called it strike three. Inning over.

We got the call. Full count, close pitch, and we got the call. When does that happen? How bout never. But then....

3b) It happened again. Not a full count this time, but a more important situation, with Matt Kemp on second and Nomar Garciaparra on first, and two outs. The 2-2 pitch. Called third strike. Inning over. In all honesty, it was probably low, but I couldn't give a damn. We got another call.

Two more things worth mentioning:

1) Pat Gillick is the man. This guy makes all of the right moves that seemed small, yet completed this team (see Jayson Stark's article on ESPN.com) and what does he do when they present him with the National League trophy? He gave all of the credit to Ed Wade, his predecessor at GM, for "a tremendous job getting the nucleus here." All Gillick did, he said, was "kind of filled in around what Ed had in place." What class.

2) I totally fell in love with Charlie Manuel. We've all criticized him as manager, wondering just what the hell he's thinking. But this guy is the patriarch of a real baseball family. As he went to hug Hamels in the post-game celebration, you could see that he called him "my boy." That's why every every infielder is involved in every mound conference during the game. That's why every player leaves everything out on the field. That's why, even when no one outside of the locker room understood it, these guys swear by Manuel. Every player is like Christopher on the Sopranos, saying of their Tony, "I would march into Hell for that man." After losing his mom, June, on the day of Game 2, Charlie fought through it all, calm and cool, focused on being the leader his team needed him to be. And in his typical, understated fashion, dedicated the win to the people of Philly and to June. "I guarantee you my mom's watching right now."

And while ESPN.com writer Gene Wojciechowski is right that the champagne celebrations are overdone, the Phils earned this one. We earned this one.

I gave you beating the Brewers in four. I was one off when I said we'd beat the Dodgers in six. Tampa Bay is a very good team. But my friend Ben said it best:

"It's our time."

We're winning the World Series in six games.

Billy Joel knows what I'm doing. I'm keeping the phaith.

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Other Musings: Anyone notice that the drinkability ads are even bigger? The word itself is the focus of the campaign now, whereas before it was just a throw-in line. It's like someone read my blog and did it just to spite me.

Also dumb are the ESPN commercials where guys think that because they listen to them everyday that they know them. "Mike! Mike Tirico! It's me, Stupidy Stupid! I listen to you guys everyday!" If I were a celebrity, and someone just got into my car at the airport, I wouldn't think it some funny coincidence, a cute story to share at the ESPN Radio water cooler. No. I would think I was being carjacked. And that's not so funny.

Did anyone notice the postgame interview with Victorino where the guy asked him if he'd rather play the Red Sox or the Marlins? Oops.

Did anyone notice the guy (I think he was a scout?) who came over to Cole Hamels when he was being interviewed following the game and said something like, "The best looking guy and the best pitcher I know." Whoa, awkward.

Phreaking Out

Agony. Ecstasy. Defeat. Victory. Rinse. Repeat.

If you're like me--and I know I am--then describing last night as intense is like saying the Eiffel Tower has height. This game was ridiculous in every sense of the word. Up 2-0, then down 3-2. Looking like they were certain to tie it up in the top of the sixth, then they blew it, but then tied it up anyway on Chan Ho Park's wild pitch that brought in Ryan Howard. Then Chad Durbin comes in and gives the lead right back, a home run to Casey Blake. A couple of hits, Howard throws the ball away on a sacrifice bunt, and all of a sudden it's 5-3 Dodgers. Even after Chase Utley's fantastic catch and sliding tag of second base to double off Rafael Furcal kept the game close, I was miserable. And I know you all were too. "Now it'll be 2-2, it'll go 7, and we'll find a way to lose."

And my friend Mark, sitting with me at the bar in Hoboken, said, "Couple of runs is nothing. Remember, this is October."

And wasn't he right. Five outs away from having our 2-0 series lead erased, and Howard on first, Los Angeles Public Enemy #1 stepped to the plate. Shane Victorino, our Flyin' Hawaiian, nailed the first pitch from Cory Wade deep down the rightfield line, and somehow it cleared the fence into the Philly bullpen. Tie game. And Hiroki Kuroda was somewhere on the Dodger bench wishing he hadn't thrown at Victorino's head the night before.

Then, with Carlos Ruiz on first, Charlie Manuel sent waiver-deadline acquisition Matt Stairs to the plate to pinch-hit for Ryan Madson. Dodger manager Joe Torre brought in his closer, Jonathan Broxton, who hadn't given up a home run to ANYONE since May 31. And he hadn't given up one in Dodger Stadium since July of 2006. Take a moment, let that sink in. Stairs took a strike, and then three balls. Broxton reared back, fired his best fastball, and with one swing, the 40-year-old Canadian crushed the pitch, and the hearts of many a Dodger fan.

But of course that wasn't it. Brad Lidge reminded the world that you can strike out and still make it to first. With two on in the bottom of the eighth, in typical Philly fan fashion, I was waiting for the three-run shot that would give the Dodgers the lead back. But then Loney flied out weakly to left. And Lidge was lights out in the ninth.

And I was delirious. It's a good thing the Giants game was over and that most of the bar had cleared out, cause that meant I had room to jump around and pump my fist without hurting anyone. And I still can't believe we won. I keep checking the scoreboards and the highlights to make sure that it really happened, that they didn't decide in the middle of the night to take it away.

It's crazy, all of it. But Mark was right. So is October.

"Have a little phaith." --John Hiatt

Better yet, have a lot.

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Other Musings:

When the Phils got Stairs, I liked the move, and I remember sending the story to a couple of friends. Here's an e-mail I got this morning from my friend Scott:

"So when the Phils got Stairs I remember you being really excited (i think it was that acquisition) and I said to you something like "relax, he's a utility player, they rarely make the difference, he's not the contact hitter we need nor is he the answer to our problems..." Well, all it takes is one swing to make you right...and right you were, so I'm giving you props - for one night (the most important night of our season so far) he was the man...and the difference. Wow, what a game."

Anyone notice how the Eagles and Phillies just cannot win in the same day? Good news for everyone, the Birds are on their bye this week. And with the Eagles hanging on to win, we gained a game on everyone in the division, who all lost to teams they probably should've beaten.

Does anyone really like these Old Spice ads? First of all, just what is that whistle? Is that supposed to be catchy, to get in my head and make me want to buy the product? Then you've got that Robert Goulet wannabe butchering Hungry Like the Wolf at the piano, while scantily clad girls are taking turns saying, "Ahoy." Ahoy?!? What the hell is that? Are we 17th century Englishmen on a ship that's just come in sight of landfall? Not the last time I checked. And now we've got this guy who's a half-man, half-horse, and it's supposed to be funny cause he's "two great things in one" but no one's mentioning that he's a horse. I don't know about you, but I can't imagine being half-man, half-horse is a good thing. Am I supposed to be jealous? Am I supposed to think, "Yeah, that would be cool to be half-horse!"? Cause I don't. The fact that this campaign was ever hatched is only beaten by the fact that it's still going. So, I'm done with Old Spice products. If good commercials are supposed to make you want to buy the product, I'm boycotting products whose commercials piss me off.

Phired Up

Pat Burrell must have been listening. He must have heard all the murmurs and rumblings, the whispers and the shouts. I know we were talking about it where I watched the first part of Saturday's disappointing 4-1 loss.

"We're not keeping him, are we?"

"Not at that price tag, nah."

"And besides, what's he done lately?"

And there it was. That horrible, ungrateful question asked not just in Philly, not just in the world of sports, but in pretty much every venue of life, and of pretty much everyone.

And though he's repeatedly rejected the moniker "Pat the Bat," it turned out to be precisely how he answered the question: with his bat. Yesterday Burrell became the second Phillie ever to have a multi-homer postseason game, the first since Lenny Dykstra in 1993. Much more importantly, Burrell carried the Phightins to their first postseason series victory and NLCS since that very same season. Not to mention that '93 was also the last postseason without a New York team. Coincidence? I think not. (Okay, I admit, I threw that last one in for fun. Can you blame me?)

And it seems the murmurs weren't just coming from our fair city. We weren't the only ones to notice Burrell's struggles. I mean, the Brewers intentionally walked Ryan Howard to get to a guy with 33 home runs. After all, he hit 32 of them in April (okay, slight exaggeration.) It's almost like you could hear his inner monologue (if he's got one) right before the shot that essentially pulverized the Brewers' millstones:

"Not bringing me back, eh? Not worth the money? Haven't done much lately? Intentionally walking Ryan to get to me? Fine. We'll see how you feel tomorrow."

This game was huge. Obviously because we took the series, but for another reason as well. The difference between the good and the great teams is very often the "killer instinct," the ability to put a team away when you have your foot on their throat, and not let them hang around. To have lost yesterday and to have face Sabathia in a Game 5, regardless of being at home and marginal success the first time around, would not have made any of us feel very comfortable. How often have you found yourself saying something like, "Nothing comes easy with this team." This was a big step in the right direction.

I love Jimmy Rollins leading off the game with a home run. I love that Jayson Werth made Burrell's three-run shot hurt even more by going back-to-back. (Especially after that horrid strikeout in the first inning Saturday night. Did you see that? Not only was it 5 feet outside, it bounced 10 feet before the plate!) I love that Joe Blanton was everything we hoped he would be in a clutch road performance. He made one mistake, to behemoth Prince Fielder, and there was no one on base. Other than that, a gem. 50 bucks if you can name even one of the prospects we dealt for him.....That's what I thought.

And, once again, I'd like to reiterate how much I love Brad Lidge. In Game 1, when Manuel put in Lidge for Cole Hamels, who was throwing a two-hit masterpiece, I was upset, and I know I wasn't the only one. Lidge's last handful of outings had gotten increasingly hairy, recalling images of another hairy, Wild one whose name need not be mentioned. My fingernails have only begun to grow back from that first game. Why, we all asked, would you pull a guy throwing a two-hit shutout?

In the end, I've come around. Manuel was right, for two reasons. The first is that he didn't know how long the series would go, and might have needed to save even an inning for Hamels, if we needed him to go again down the road. But the bigger reason is a mental one. My read on the end of the season for Lidge, as saves became extended pacings in my living room, is that he started to get psyched out again. Baseball is a head game, and perhaps no more so than for closers. And Lidge was as dominant as they come for closers, before his meltdown against Albert Pujols and the Cardinals in 2005. So maybe he was getting too much in his own head. And I think letting him pitch the ninth of Game 1, get the jitters out and the confidence back, might end up being huge for this team. It may not have been fun to sit through, but he's given up just one hit in his two innings since then. At least someone in Philadelphia can make a good coaching move every so often (that's right, Andy Reid, that one's for you.)

Lastly, looking ahead to the Dodgers. Yes, they're hot, and have been since the middle of August. But you know who else has been hot since then? Oh yeah, the Phils. And as they say every year, momentum goes only as far as the next game's starting pitcher. I may be a minority on this one, but I'd much rather be playing the Dodgers than the Cubs. Chicago was deeper in its pitching and its lineup than the Dodgers are, even though the Cubs choked again. I like our chances, and I wouldn't have as much if it were the Cubs.

I gave you beating the Brewers in four. We're beating the Dodgers in six.

"Cause I got to have phaith." --George Michael

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Other Musings:

I don't want to talk about the Eagles, because I will take yesterday's tradeoff every time I'm given that option. Right now they should be 4-1, maybe 5-0. You know that whole foot-on-the-throat thing I talked about? Have the Eagles ever had that? Ever? Exactly.

This Onion article is worth some laughs--chuckles for the article and the awesome 80's reference, loud guffaws directed at the New York Mets. (Thanks Ross.)

If you didn't see this, it might be the greatest catch ever. (Thanks Scott.)

Also funny, from a couple of weeks ago, if the NFL had a Facebook page. (Thanks again, Scott.)

And lastly, to borrow a concept from Sports Illustrated, This Week's Sign That the Apocalypse is Upon Us. (Thanks Matt.)