The Learned Helplessness Theory of Being a Nationals Fan

The Nationals want to take back Citizen's Bank Park South.

Outside of the slow attempt to turn the Nationals into a "legitimate contender"/the World Fuckin' Champions of '08 (Matt Stairs, Jayson Werth, Brad Lidge, and now Chad Durbin to a minor league contract!?!), the Nationals recently launched the "Take Back the Park" campaign in an attempt to draw in as many Nationals fans as possible by restricting ticket pre-sales to their first home series against the Phils only to residents of Maryland, DC, or Virginia. Sorry, Bob Casey and everyone else in the lovely state that you represent!

Strangely enough, I first heard about the "Take Back the Park" campaign last week while at a bioethics talk titled, "Toward a 'Science' of Torture?". While the talk was about interrogation methods designed by the C.I.A. and not the psychology behind being a Nationals fan, I couldn't help but think about the Nationals every time the term "learned helplessness" was thrown around - you know, the psychological state where people feel powerless to change their situation. It didn't help that the nerdy-looking academic leading the discussion on "torture" was wearing a Phillies cap with his suit and walked in chanting "Let's go Phillies" to himself before telling the entire room about "Take Back the Park". In fact, one of the last things he said before the talk began, probably to make the room aware of his qualifications, was something along the lines of, "Well, guess what, Nationals? I am both a lifelong Phillies fan and live in DC! I'll just buy all the tickets!"

The room was silent. I looked around. I was the only person listening, let alone smiling.

While there's no need to fear that there will be a lack of Phillies fans torturing Nationals fans at this series due in large part, to this guy beating the system, it still makes you wonder if the rivalry the Nationals are trying to stir up makes any sense - that is, unless the Phillies inexplicably can't win a World Series 86 years after trading away Jayson Werth.

But, seriously, Nats, why not invest in continuing to keep your rivalry with the Orioles alive instead? If anyone needs a reason to love baseball right now, it's people from Baltimore. Plus, the Orioles-Nationals rivalry is much more well-founded. There's the annual "Beltway Series", a history of drama over the Baltimore-Washington baseball market, and the controversy over shouting O! during the national anthem.

Let's not forget the rich history of the Washington Nationals that goes all the way back to 2005. While a lot's changed since Ryan Zimmerman joined a team of displaced Canadians in our country's capital (I'm talkin' about the Expos, but this sweet picture of Pete Orr as a Natty beau seems relevant), it doesn't really compare to the history of Phillies. The Whiz kids! The Vet! The sweet memory of what bar you were in and who you high fived that fateful night in 2008! I've only been in this city for six years, and the history of baseball is somehow now intertwined with my own personal history. I'm not sure you could say the same for most Nationals fans.

Perhaps, a better question than, "Why the Phillies, Nationals?" or, "Seriously?!?" is, "What Phillies team of the past would provide a more even match-up?" After all, if anyone knows about "learned helplessness", it's Phillies fans. This probably explains why Nationals fans are being hazed to begin with.

Lights Out Lidge

Wednesday, October 29th, 2008. Was it all a dream? Now that Brad Lidge has officially signed a one-year deal with the Washington Nationals, that final knees-to-the-ground, hands-to-the-sky World Series win against the Rays seems like a distant memory.

In his four seasons with the Phillies, Lidge racked up 100 saves, mostly thanks to that perfect 48-for-48 2008. While Lidge is "disappointed" that the Phillies are not keeping him around for another season, it's almost fitting that out of all of Game 5's strange heroes, he's the last to fade from the sandlot, Citizen's Bank Park, after giving Eric Hinske the slider.

Lidge's fate with Jayson Werth on the Phillies South doesn't seem so bad when you look at who else was partially responsible for that Game 5 win. When the game resumed that Wednesday, tied in the bottom of the sixth, Geoff Jenkins set the tone for paradin' with a lead off double, his only hit of the post-season, and was later scored by Werth. The Rays then quickly retied the game in the top of the seventh only to have Pat Burrell lead off the bottom of the seventh with another double. Eric Bruntlett, pinch-running for Pat the Bat, was then scored on a game-winning single by Pedro Feliz.

Where are they now? Pat Burrell went on to play the role of "The Machine" for Brian Wilson. Eric Bruntlett, whose batting average was often announced on a local radio show whenever it was, give or take 10 minutes, around 2:15 P.M. BST (Bruntlett Standard Time), is now kickin' it as a stay-at-home dad. And Pedro Feliz spent last summer across the bridge playing ball for the Camden Riversharks, a team not affiliated with the MLB, but affiliated with a mascot known as Mr. Trash.

As for Lidge, he's earned himself a certain level of respect/free-drinks-until-you-die in Philadelphia because of 2008 - he and the anxiety that so easily forced another round of drinks on an entire city whenever he put runners on base in the ninth only to strike out the last batter with his slider. Even in Game 5, he quickly gave up a single and a stolen base only to "lights out" Hinske. It makes you wonder if Philly losing Lidge will offset the revenue that's expected to be generated from the proposed plan of keeping bars open one hour later to fund the city's schools. No one gave the city agita like Brad Lidge. He kept us nervous, and it made everything more exciting. On that note, I'd like to end with something I jotted down in an old notebook on "October 16, 2009":

I had my first “Lights Out” Lidge shot last night. A glass of Jim Beam slid down the bar and unexpectedly slowed to a stop in front of me. The guy to my right, covered in Phillies red from head to toe, looked deep into my eyes and shouted, “Lights Out Lidge! C’mon, lady!” We hit our glasses on the bar, cheersed, and Brad Lidge successfully closed out Game 1 of the NLCS against the Dodgers.

Brad Lidge, I will think of you every time that nervous knot forms in the pit of my stomach, the one that's only quieted by one more beer or an end of the night shot with some random stranger who works at the airport.

Heroes get remembered, but legends never die.