Everything I Need To Know, I Learned From Mike Stutes' Twitter

Since his call-up to the show on April 25th, relief pitcher Michael Stutes has been causing quite a stir in Philadelphia. The former Oregon Beaver and newly-added member of the Sunnydale Razorbacks is 1-0, recording 22 strikeouts in 21.2 innings pitched and picking up his first major league win against Felix Hernandez. He’s also half of a dynamic duo—along with Glourious Antonio Bastardo—of young relievers bringing life to an injury-plagued and aging Phillies bullpen, which started the season with Jose “I’m 39” Contreras as its closer.

Standing 6’1 and sporting Lincecum-esque shaggy brown hair, this obvious native of the Pacific Northwest has been charming the citizens of Philadelphia and seems to have won a regular spot in the bullpen, at least for now. He won me over when, asked if he adopted a particular strategy against the Cubs’ lineup, Stutes responded, “no, I just trust Chooch.” Wise words, young Stutes. Wise words indeed.

As of this weekend, Michael Stutes will be sharing his wise words with all of us, through his brand new Twitter account (@mikestutes). Luckily for you, I already read all 78 of the tweets (mostly direct responses to questions from fans) that Stutes posted during his flight from Philly to St. Louis on Sunday night, so you don’t have to. Here is some of what I’ve learned so far:

6/19, 7:29 pm: He is considering cutting his hair.
6/19, 9:06 pm: Maybe he'll cut it during the World Series parade and donate it to Locks of Love. Way to jinx us, Stutes.

6/19, 9:22 pm: He doesn’t know what “hipster music” is.

6/19, 9:27 pm: RYAN MADSON HAS A MOUSTACHE TATTOO ON HIS FINGER. (AND ACCORING TO STUTES, IT’S REAL.)

6/19, 9:40 pm: Stutes takes his glove off after every pitch as part of his routine, and has somehow never noticed he did it until now.

6/19, 10:02 pm: His favorite band is Sublime.

6/19, 10:37 pm: His dog is named Rugby. (Cute!)

Tonight Roy Halladay and the Phillies face the Pujols-less Cardinals at Busch Stadium. I wonder if Stutes will be updating his Twitter from the bullpen?

I Got 99 Problems But a Pitch Ain't One

It looks like I have the Kyle Kendrick ticket package again this season, what would have been the Joe Blanton ticket package if Big Joe wasn't sent to the DL. :(= Now I know what you're thinking, and I once thought it too. If you were me, you'd want to see anyone other than the guy that Joe Blanton beat out to become fifth wheel to the Four Aces. You know, one of those four dudes that appear on those sweet "99 PROBLEMS BUT A PITCH AIN'T ONE" tees sold outside of the stadium. Well, guess what? I've seen some of those guys. I was freezing my butt off when Cole Hamels gave up a quick six runs in his season debut, a 7-1 loss to the Mets. Oh, and that terrible 9-0 loss to the Brewers with Halladay on the mound? That "two-hit atrocity"? I was there. In fact, up until I was recently cursed with tickets to Kendrick games, I was convinced that I was a curse to the Phillies altogether, the jinx whose mere presence could turn an ace into a joker, making pitching problem #100 for Phillies fans everywhere.

So being 0-2 with the Phillies at home with now 9-3 Halladay and 9-2 Hamels, I wasn't thrilled when I found out that my first game at the ballpark with fellow lady of Scoring Position, Nadine, would be one hot date with Kyle Kendrick. Yes, we're talking the same Kyle Kendrick that gave up five quick runs to Old Man Giambi and the Brewers shortly after his World Series ring was found in a Mentos container at the bottom of a swamp, the same Kyle Kendrick that currently has a Facebook page with 260 fans that only seem to comment on how much he blows or spam his wall with quick ways to make $4000/month working from home. Sad, yes. What was sadder was that the night before last Thursday's game with Nadine, I wishfully dreamt that Kyle Kendrick was sent to the DL and Vance Worley would be taking his place on the mound. This was no prophetic dream. (Side note: dream psychology tells me that I dreamt this because I needed to work through a problem. Even Freud proposed that dreams exist to fulfill our wishes to see Vance Worley over Kyle Kendrick. Too bad thinking in reality doesn't work this way. Am I right?)

Kyle Kendrick was to take the mound at 7:05. What were two gals to do? Drink some beer and bank on a stroke of genius, I guess. After throwing back a couple at some 420-themed beer event at the South Philly Tap Room before the game, it finally came to us! We decided that we could either go about our fate like every other Philadelphian and complain about not getting Roy Halladay or Cliff Lee, or we could, for just one day, be Kyle Kendrick's biggest and loudest fans. Maybe the trippy black light posters covering the bar's walls were giving us strange vibes or maybe we had been slipped something, but what was to follow was truly magical.

Kyle Kendrick pitched an awesome three innings, leaving a big fat 0 on the board for the Cubs. Nadine and I even convinced the middle-aged ladies from the Northeast sitting next to us to jump on the Kyle Kendrick bandwagon. Clad in Phillies pink, they became even more obnoxious than us every time Kendrick through a strike. Kyle Kendrick had it together, and I thought my losing streak with the Phillies was finally coming to a close. Cue a montage of Kendrick putting people away to his warm up music, "Been Caught Stealing" by Jane's Addiction:

Is this a reference to catching people on base or the discovery of Kyle's stolen World Series ring?

Then tornado-like winds ripped through the stadium, and after a one hour rain delay, Kyle Kendrick was inexplicably taken out. The Phillies were up 3-0, and Baez was on the mound. Even Nadine and I could not get behind that. What was to follow can only be explained by the workings of a curse. The game dragged on, and the Phillies remained hitless since J-Roll's three-run homer in the second inning. Ryan Madson blew his first save in 15 opportunities. In my mind, this all happened while Nadine and I were dancing and singing to "Don't Stop Believing" with our new gal pals from the Northeast. Charlie even argued his way into getting one of the home runs Madson gave up reversed to turn everything back into a tie game, yet the Phillies still managed to blow it. Herndon was not pinch-hit for with the bases loaded in the 10th. He struck out scared and swinging. Polanco made a rare throwing error at third in the 11th to allow the winning run for the Cubs to score. Was this just bad baseball or the result of a higher power?

I honestly believe that had Kyle Kendrick stayed in that night, the curse would have been lifted. Instead, I had to wait until Kendrick's next start against the Marlins. Watching from the 400 level with six friends, I saw Kendrick throw an amazing seven-inning one-run performance. Someone even started shouting, "You just got 'dricked!" every time Kyle put up a K. The Phillies cruised past the Marlins 8-1. Since that game, the Phillies have won in extra innings on a Chooch walk off, Cliff Lee pitched a two-hit shutout while racking up two hits and an RBI, and Vance Worley has magically returned from the AAA Iron Pigs. Sure, we lost last night, but you can't win them all.

Vance Worley's starting in tonight's game against the Mariners which might make me one of the few that ever had the Kyle Kendrick ticket package at all. Who knows what'll happen to Kendrick now? Maybe he'll split starts with Worley or maybe he'll return to the 'pen as the Phillies' much needed longman. Say what you will about the man, but first let me say this. It's probably the first time these words have ever been put together in the English language.

I am thankful for Kyle Kendrick.

Philadelphia Fillies

Happy Opening Day to the Phillies from Del Reeves and the ladies of Scoring Position:

While this song is really about Philly babes Del Reeves "batted a thousand with" and not the beloved Phils, I'd like to think that what Del's trying to articulate in his comparison of "Fillies" to hot twins from Minnesota and "cuddly cubbies" from Chicago is that there's truly something special about Philadelphia. So maybe I've been drinking too much of that Schuylkill punch, but I love that opening day's a holiday here. I love that the window displays of South Philly are decorated with bobbleheads and that I've been awake since 4:30 this morning in anticipation of the arrival of Uncle Charlie and the boys. Let's just hope that it's a happy Halladay for Fillies everywhere as Doc kicks off this much-anticipated season against Brett Myers and the Astros at 1:05 ET. Check out today's lineup here. Go Phils! Go baseball!

Aack! Happy Pitchers and Catchers Day!

It's about goddamn time! This sweet graphic with hints of the boss's first album was posted by the folks over at Beerleaguer. Not to be a total girl or anything, but it is Valentine's Day weekend and the only thing that's keeping me from turning into a Cathy cartoon right now is listening to Bruce's "It's Hard To Be A Saint In The City" in my Cliff Lee tee while fantasizing about winding arms and popping gloves.

I bet that Cliff Lee could walk like Brando right into the sun, then dance just like a Casanova. Just look at the man! Swoon.

The He-Man Brew that the Gals Love Too!

Philadelphians love drinking beer. Heck! They love drinking period. They even have self-declared holidays centered around the sport like Philly Beer Week, and Philly Beer Year, which lasts for an entire year after the Phillies win or don't win the World Series.

This Ortlieb's ad from an old Phillies' scorecard and those billboards for Miller Lite and the Iggles got me thinking about what the beer of the Phillies should be. While lager means Yuengling here and the special (PBR + whiskey) is known citywide, I'd like to think that we could do better than that. Philadelphia's a land of microbreweries and dive bars and microbrew-stocked dive bars, and CBP probably has the best stadium beer selection ever. Even the Yankees have a beer, $10 Bud Lite based on last year's trip to Yankee Stadium, so why shouldn't we? Feel free to chime in here about your favorite ballgame libations and what you think the unofficial beer of the Philadelphia Phillies should be.

Also, check out this dude's flickr page for more neat Phillies stuff like this old Tastykake ad and sweet cover of the '77 Phillies yearbook.

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

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.