For Crying Out Loud

Watching the Phils-Dodgers last night, I saw something I've never seen before.

Trailing 2-1 in the bottom of the ninth, Shane Victorino got things started with a single. Eric Bruntlett laid down a beautiful sacrifice bunt to move Victorino to second. (It still amazes me how many of these professional ballplayers can't lay down a bunt to save their lives.) Werth struck out, and Andy Tracy walked in his first Major League at-bat in four years. Two on, two out, Pedro Feliz is at the plate, the difference between losing and staying alive. And what were some of the Phaithful doing in their seats at the Bank?

They were doing the wave. That's right. The wave.

Now there are those who feel that the wave is harmless fun. And I couldn't disagree more. The wave is what you do when you're not interested in the game. When you're bored. Why on earth would you pay good money to sit in a stadium where a professional ballgame is taking place and focus on the other fans? Is there something I'm missing here?

If you feel that the wave contains some kind of karmic, cosmic bond connecting everyone in that stadium, everyone's entitled to have a wrong opinion. But can we all at least agree that the bottom of the ninth in a one-run game in a pennant race at the end of August might not be the best time for a stinking wave???? Honestly, people.

It's like the bleacher bums who keep doing the E-A-G-L-E-S chant at Phillies games. Fine if the Phils are way out of it, as they were most of the 80's and 90's. But so not cool (or Taguchi for that matter) while they are very much in the thick of a tight division battle.

At a Phils-Mets game last fall with my dad, I finally had enough. I stood up, turned around to the "cheap" seats and yelled, "HEY! IT'S BASEBALL SEASON! YOUR TEAM IS RIGHT HERE!!!!" And I was applauded in my section.

So, seriously, with all due respect, cut the crap. No more Eagles chants. No more waves, certainly not in the bottom of the ninth inning. Let's focus on the task at hand, and do our part in all of this by being good phans.

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For your entertainment, a very funny and short Onion article on Jamie Moyer. (Thanks Matt.)

Other musings: Coors Light may have a vent in its cans for a smoother pour. It may have mountains that turn blue to let you know the bottle's cold like those winter gloves from the 80's (does anyone else remember them?). Heck, it may even have actual crags from the Rockies in each and every delivery truck. But that doesn't change the fact that the beer sucks.

Jimmy Cracks Wise, and We All Care

Jimmy Rollins appeared on the Best Damn Sports Show Period last week, and made some comments that have, to say the least, poked the hornet's nest of Philly sports with a big old tree branch.

"They're frontrunners. When you're doing good, they're on your side. When you're doing bad, they're completely against you." (You can watch the whole clip here as well as his follow-up comments following the Phuror.)

It's much too easy to make this a black-and-white issue, either by saying Jimmy's exactly right, or by allowing yourself to be angry and outraged. There's a whole lot going on here, and it's certainly much more gray than you think.

On the one hand, my initial reaction was more in line with the second option listed above, something to the effect of: "Frontrunners?!? Doesn't that require consistently winning teams? Didn't you read my entry from a couple of weeks ago?

You wanna hear the end of the boos, Jimmy? Why don't you remember how to hit like you did last season? Where did that guy go? Also, while you're at it, could you teach the rest of the guys something we all learned in Little League called protecting the plate with two strikes??? I may not be a ballplayer, Jimmy, but I do know one thing: it's statistically impossible to get a hit if you don't swing the bat. "

John Salley, co-host of Best Damn, was exactly right. "That's called family." Philly fans are the most loyal--spending time, money, energy, and a lot of tears following our beloved teams. When an entire lineup shuts down production, it is so natural to say, "Hey, we show up. We do our jobs as fans--loving, supporting, rooting unconditionally. Time to do your job. Time to show up." Philly fans don't leave early, they stay and let you have it, if you deserve it. Anyone remember that Monday Night Football game a couple of years ago when Seattle was up like 42-0...at halftime? People stayed. And they booed. Cause you know what? That's part of the job of the fan, to let them have it when they deserve it.

On the other hand, Jimmy's frustrated, and who can blame him? He may not have chosen his words so wisely, and he tried to clarify his meaning in his follow-up statement. But he was trying to express something else, something we all forget, all too often.

Jimmy was trying to say, "Hey, we're people too. You think you're frustrated as fans? You can't even imagine how frustrated we are in this dugout, in this locker room. And when you get on our case and boo like crazy and tell us to show up, that doesn't help. All it does is increases the negative energy, something we're trying desperately to shake. Don't kick us when we're down. Try to reach down and help pick us up."

Hey man, we're all in this together.

Ba-phil-ing

How many times have you gone to check a Phils score this season and ended up just shaking your head? How often do you think about the trajectory of this team's season and say, out loud, the following phrase, just like this:

I just. Don't. Get it.

Every time you think you have this team figured out, they go and surprise you. Just when they seemed to be hitting their mid-season stride, they went into a tailspin from the middle of June through the All-Star break. Then they got hot again, but still couldn't beat the Mets and the Marlins, something I figure they'll have to do at some point if they want to win this division. Now--and I can't believe I'm writing this, though some have been saying it for a while now--I have to ask:

Where on earth is the hitting?

Wasn't this team supposed to be an offensive powerhouse that was going to win a whole bunch of 10-8 games? Wasn't the starting pitching supposed to be the question mark?

Say it with me now: I just. Don't. Get it.

This past Thursday and Friday, the hitting machine that was supposed to be our batting order plated zero runs. Zero. Cole Hamels gave up two earned runs in six innings in Thursday's 3-0 loss to Florida. Then Joe Blanton, in his second straight magnificent start, gives up one hit and strikes out seven over seven innings. And we couldn't get him one lousy run.

To be shut out is embarrassing, to be shut out in extra innings is another thing. And to be shut out in extra innings by the Pittsburgh Pirates, well that's just downright shameful. With a lineup like ours, we should win every single game in which the starter gives up 3 or fewer. Probably even 4.

And yet, somehow, we're still in first place. And Jimmy Rollins seems to be finally waking up. His slumber might explain the dropoff in runs--when Jimmy doesn't set the table, there's no one for the big boys to bring home.

The pitchers are doing their job. Here's hoping the hitters remember how to do theirs.

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Other musings: Those who tell you that the preseason record in football (or in any sport) matters is, with all due respect, an idiot. What matters is the sorting out of the depth chart and other individual performances. So I couldn't care less that the Birds lost their preseason opener. The only stats that matter to me: McNabb, 10 for 13, 97 yards, one touchdown.

Did you know that Bud Light, aside from having "superior drinkability" (see last week's post), also "keeps it coming"? What??? I just. Don't. Get it.