Hearts On Fire, Strong Desire

I miss you, Philadelphia. Since I moved in with you just five short years ago, my childhood bedroom in Connecticut has slowly morphed into a storage room for old perfume bottles, partially rewound VHS tapes, and terrible CDs from the mid to late 90s. It's kind of like the box of stuff you'd return to an ex if you hadn't taken a baseball bat to it first. Someone even tacked up a 1999 World Series pennant in here. The Yanks walloped the Braves in four games that year, while '99 for the Phils went from "promising to disastrous in the blink of an eye" (probably explains why it was also the year those batteries were thrown).

So as I sit here, in the room of my former self, awaiting this week's return to the land of late night pretzels, mummers, and these guys, I'm forced to reconcile with the fact that I once rooted for the team that won the pennant in 1999, the same team that beat the Phils in the 2009 World Series and that Cliff Lee didn't want to play for next season. But, hey. I had no choice. I was born into a Yankees family from central Connecticut, a no mans land for professional sports. (That is, since the Whalers left in 1997, and despite how much Connecticut folks still talk about missing the Whale and their sweet logo, I was always under the impression that they considered UCONN more of a pro team.)

I stopped caring about the Yankees and baseball at some point in the early 2000s when everyone got really into drinking steroid cocktails and bathing themselves in money (here's to you, Jason Giambi). Before that, I saw the Yanks as any kid saw the team they grew up with, as a bunch of good dudes that enjoyed the game - dudes like young Andy Pettitte, acoustic guitarist Bernie Williams, and old man Paul O'Neill that always got up to bat with the biggest smile on to "Baba O'Riley" by the Who. When I moved to Philadelphia in 2005, most of the good dudes were gone and I found myself without a team and no longer able to relate to the Yankees or New York. That's where Philadelphia came in, and shortly after my move, I officially dumped the pretty boy Yanks for the working class Phils, Steff from Pretty in Pink for Rocky.

That's not to say that I grew up not caring about the Phillies or hating the Mets. My family was a bigger fan of baseball than they were of the Yankees, and in '99 we payed close attention to the Phillies because of one player that grew up close to my hometown named Rico Brogna. Check out Rico as a baby.

Rico mysteriously disappeared from baseball two years after what was a pretty good year with the Phils and inexplicably ended up at my high school coaching football. I really want to make a Gerardo joke here, probably because "Rico Suave" would play in my head whenever Brogna and I crossed paths. I imagine that this happens to every girl that crosses paths with a dude lucky enough to be a Rico after 1990. Ah, "the price you pay for being a gigolo", but I digress.

I guess the point in all of this girl talk about dudes that play baseball, the good, the bad, and the suave, is that Rico was the first player that turned me on to Philadelphia. He was kind of like that dude that made you a great mix tape when you were fifteen and too stupid to know good music yet. When I moved to Philadelphia without a team in 2005, the rest was history. I found myself quickly falling in love with another team of good dudes that enjoyed the game. Jimmy and Chase and Ryan and Shane.

Sure, there are other great moments worth mentioning here that made me love the Phillies. Like that time an entire bar erupted into "High Hopes" after the Phillies beat the Reds in Game 2 of the NL Series this year. Or that time I was hanging out of a car on Broad Street screaming my lungs out about baseball and Tastykakes. We all have these moments, but ultimately the strong desire for the Phils that raged within, to paraphrase a song from Rocky IV, stemmed from my love for a bunch of good dudes like Rico.

Like blogging partner and fellow babe, Nadine, I'm a person that does not have any inside information on the Phillies. I'm a transplant to the city for Pete's sake. I'm just glad I didn't get kicked out yet. However, I do find myself constantly reading, posting, and sharing information about the Phillies, and until I figure out how to use my college degree in cognitive neuroscience to better understand why people love baseball as much as I do, I'll be doing this.

I originally wanted to make a Phillies blog titled "My Boyfriend, Charlie Manuel" in which I'd write about the Phillies from the perspective of Charlie Manuel's girlfriend - making him sleep on the couch during losing streaks and cooking him the juiciest of steaks after climbing space mountain to beat the Yankees. This just seemed a lot easier.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Until I see you later this week, Philadelphia, remember to keep checking the mail:

DEAR PHILADELPHIA,

YOU ARE... THIS IS...
I PROMISED MYSELF I WOULDN'T GET CHOKED UP.
I LOVE YOU.

XOXO,

LAUREN

JC Romero to Join 2011 Phillies

After declining his $4.5 million option for 2011, the Phillies and JC Romero have agreed to terms for a 2011 resigning. The exact figures aren't out, but speculation puts them in the $1-1.5 million range.

Personally, I've always enjoyed JC's shouts of "putamadre!" after getting the big out. Hope to see more of those next year.

Reality Check

The signing of Cliff Lee is undeniably awesome. I doubt any city (or person, as in, um, myself) has ever had such an intense, whirlwind love affair with a particular professional athlete—been so heartbroken to see him go and overjoyed at the Christmas miracle of his return. Of course it's great. But in the midst of all the kissing and making up and making out that's been going on, a few of the less heartwarming points have been left out of the picture. As great as it is to have Mr. Lee back home in Philly, his addition doesn't exactly fill any holes in the Phillies' roster. With three aces, we don't really need a fourth. What we were missing was the right-handed power bat of Cliff's bitter buddy Jayson Werth (U MAD).

Like I said, I don't particularly care to wade through the depths of obscure statistics and look up each dude's VORP or whatever else might be relevant to this comparison. But what I do find troubling is Ruben Amaro Jr.'s assertion, at Tuesday's press conference, that starting pitching is what wins championships.

Anyone who watched the Phillies battle the Giants in this year's NLCS and who is familiar with one "rodeo clown Cody Ross" knows that starting pitching did not win those games. Starting pitching on either side was mediocre at best. Doc's second outing only seemed to live up to his legend once we realized he was playing hurt, and the Giant's Snivellus Snape didn't work all that much of his dark magic.

What won a championship for SF was a couple of bearded bullpen creeps and inexplicably hot bats.

Who knows how this will all actually play out, but it does beg a few questions. Will some combination of Dom Brown/Ben Francisco/Ross Gload make up for the loss of Jayson Werth? I wouldn't screenprint too many of those "R2C2" novelty t-shirts; I'm not completely convinced either Roy Oswalt or Cole Hamels is here to stay.

I Keep My Promises

You're welcome.

Image via Fightin' Phils tumblr.

Philly's More Fun When You Don't Sleep Over Every Night

Since moving to New York last year (after 25 years in our nation's former capital), I've said this line so many times I couldn't begin to count: "the only thing I miss about Philadelphia is the Phillies." And, like, my family, I guess. Or whatever. As far as I'm concerned, the city is otherwise a hateful place I can barely stand to spend a weekend in.

So naturally, it's mad weird to see Cliff Lee's decision to re-sign with the Phils as not just awesome for the team that now has four aces and for its fans and, y'know, me (as Cliff Lee's girlfriend) but also as the giant advertising campaign for the city itself that it's rapidly becoming. CLIFF LEE IS THE COOLEST MAN ON THE PLANET. AND A TOTAL BABE. DUH. OK YEA, I OBVIOUSLY GET IT. But does Philadelphia really deserve the great press it's trying to give itself on the basis of Cliff & Kristen Lee's desire to live there? (See: this billboard from the city's lame Tourism Marketing Corporation, going up on I-95, or Phil Sheridan's piece in today's Daily News, arguing that the Lees' attraction to the city "proves" that—in the immortal words of SEPTA—we're getting there. In fact, as of yesterday's 3pm press conference, we've officially arrived.) So the Lees are multi-millionaires who enjoy the view from a Rittenhouse Square penthouse. Doesn't really change the fact that the Philadelphia I know and sometimes almost sort of love (or at least will defend when someone else shit-talks it) is best represented by the creepily-accurate portrayal on It's Always Sunny or maybe the chorus to Kanye West's "Runaway." LET'S HAVE A TOAST FOR THE DOUCHEBAGS!

Nevertheless, it was rad to see some appreciation come the way of Philly sports fans that doesn't have anything to do with our ability to accurately aim D batteries at Santa Claus. Lee did a great job of explaining what I love about being a Phillies fan and going to games at CBP:

Every game has got an elevated feel to it compared to everywhere else. It’s completely different. I don’t know what the fans do to create that much more volume and excitement in the stadium, but it’s definitely something extra here... They’re passionate fans. They understand what’s going on. They don’t need a teleprompter to tell them to get up and cheer... I don’t know how to explain it other than you can feel the volume that’s created by the fans and their intensity.

I wouldn't wanna live there, but it's a great place to visit. And then run away from as soon as possible.

Before I conclude this introductory blog post, I'd like to spend a little more time actually introducing it. I am a person who is bored at work and started this blog mainly to kill some time, up the Phillies punx, and maybe make jokes and post animated Cliff Lee gifs. I don't have access to any breaking news that hasn't already broke and, for the most part, I lack the attention span to look through a lot of statistics.

I will be joined in this adventure by Lauren, a transplant to Philadelphia who truly digs the city and its baseball team and would totally date Charlie Manuel. We hope you'll enjoy our alternative viewpoints on the Philadelphia Phillies.

You know you love us. Xoxo.