That Old Time Philadelphia Feeling

While the debate rages on as to whether today is "the most depressing day of the year", it certainly feels like it. I'm probably as bummed and irritable as those old dudes that pregamed Saturday's Eagles loss in a hot tub with a bottle of Wild Turkey - you know, the season finale that made Nick Foles and an entire city yelp, "I'm hurting inside right now in my heart".

That Philadelphia feeling. It's so familiar.

If I'm lucky, I won't have to drain a hot tub full of tears and broken dreams later tonight. Hell, on the other hand, is set to freeze over as tomorrow's low temperatures may break some records. This is Philadelphia though, so why not root, root, root for the cold and bank on the opposite happening?

Bill Veeck once said that, "There are only two seasons - winter and baseball." Maybe that's a good thing in light of 2013 for the Phillies. Everyone needs time to recover and get back on track, next season's team of grumpy old men included. As for me, I've been looking to baseball past and trying not to take things too seriously in the new year.

Enter Curt Schilling of the 1989 Orioles/the Christmas gift that keeps on giving:

Let's look at the line: 9.82 ERA, 15 IP, 16 ER, 10 BB, 4 K, 1 CS (Curt Stache)

Things didn't turn out so bad for Schill. He eventually traded in the stache for a mullet and a place in Philadelphia's hearts. He led the Phillies to upset the Braves in the '93 NLCS, earned himself Most Valuable Player honors, and prevented heartbreak for one more day by tossing a five-hit shutout in Game 5 of the World Series against Toronto. He even won three World Series on some other teams as an old man years later.

A lot of us may be hurting inside right now in our hearts because we'll be forced to contemplate the future of the Phillies soon. Perhaps the best way to pregame the 2014 season is drunk in a hot tub. I'm sure that's how the '93 Phillies would do it. Plus, it's not actually sad until the game's over.

Hey Mickey!

Up first to be honored in Scoring Position's Hall of Fame for Good Phillies Dudes is the dandiest little glove man to ever play the game. The scrappy midfielder with the heart of gold and the glove that never got the Midas touch. The little guy that led the 1993 Phillies World Series lineup with a regular season batting average of a whopping .247. THE GREAT MORANDINI!

Let's observe a moment of silence for Mickey Morandini. Feel free to meditate on the following:

That sweet unassisted triple play he turned against the Pittsburgh Pirates in '92. With Andy Van Slyke on second and a slimmer Barry Bonds on first, Mickey caught Jeff King's line drive, stepped on second, and then tagged out Bonds. Relive the glory of Mickey becoming the first second baseman in NL history to nail a defensive hat trick here. Of course the Phillies went on to lose in extra innings, but all's not fair in love and baseball. Cue Roxette's "It Must Have Been Love". But was it over then?

Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!

Mickey Morandini earned the nickname "Dandy Little Glove Man" for a reason. Mickey Hands finished in the top two for his position in fielding percentage five times in his career and was even voted to the All-Star team in 1995. Despite this fact, Mickey never won a Gold Glove over other stand-up ballplayers like Jose Lind. Poor Mickey. Hey. Hey. Poor Mickey. Still, what a dude!

So the next time you slide on your mitt for your neighborhood's softball team, think about Mickey the Great Morandini. Think about unrequited love and your own shortcomings, and then think about Mickey turning a double play dressed as a member of All-4-One. Believe you me, Scoring Position's not the only one to want Mickey on their team. Check out this great audio interview on Jimmy Scott's High and Tight in which Mickey says, "At heart, I'm a Philly guy," while smooth saxophones play over crashing waves.

This might be the most love Morandini's gotten since '98. And he runs a stationary store with his wife, Peg!

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.

Never Forget: Darren Daulton

Tonight, stop by the South Philly Bar and Grill at 1235 East Passyunk Avenue for a chance to meet famed Phillies catcher, conspiracy theorist, and astral time traveler Darren "Dutch" Daulton! Dutch will be "mixing with the crowd from 8-10 pm and enjoying $2.75 Yuengling Lights," according to the invite I received.

I was wondering how I ended up on the South Philly Bar & Grill's email promotions list until Lauren astutely reminded me that I probably signed my name to something sketchy whilst watching drunken bros form a conga line to a karaoke rendition of "Proud to Be An American" and spit in one of my best friend's faces. Suddenly, it all made sense, and the only thing strange about this announcement was the idea of any 1993 Phils' alumnus being caught drinking light beer.

While we're reminiscing, check out this fantastic post about my personal favorite '93 Phillie and accomplished killer of brain cells, John Kruk, who was inducted into the Phillies Wall of Fame last week.

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.

Vance Worley, Man of Mystery

They have to be running out of room in the Phillies infirmary! Joe Blanton, the fifth ace, is the most recent addition to the DL as a result of a medial impingement of the right elbow. Yeah, that's Big Joe's thowing elbow. Maybe this explains why he's been off to such a rough start with the Phils. :(=

As a result, the Phillies will be calling up 23-year-old right-hander Vance Worley to the big leagues to face Mike Pelfry and the Muts tonight. Just who is this Vance Worley? I do hear that he's been playing some great Triple-A ball for the Iron Pigs. Whoever he is, he might have a chance to become the most famous Vance ever as the list of famous Vances is short. This is probably because Vance is from the Old English meaning "dweller of a bog."

More old school Reading Phils cards here!

In Defense of Greg Dobbs, My Favorite Phillie of 2008 (No Joke!)

There's something to be said, in baseball and in life, for adapting to your role and learning to do it better than anybody else. And there is no better example of that than Gregory Stuart Dobbs circa 2007-2008, the best pinch hitter in Phillies history.

Not only known for hitting .355 as a pinch hitter and shattering Greg Gross' single-season franchise record for pinch hits, Greg Dobbs was also a favorite around the clubhouse, spent more time on his hair than any other Phillie (at least according to one of those scoreboard "ask the players" videos at CBP), and was voted the player Philly women second-most wanted to bang (after Chase Utley). He may not be my type of dude (I'm into lanky left-handed pitchers, personally), but Greg Dobbs is definitely my type of player. Scrappy, adaptable, unexpected. Doing whatever it takes to beat the shit out of everybody at the part of the game he got the chance to play. Tragically, limited roster space and reduced playing time took a lot of those chances away in 2009 and 2010, and Greg Dobbs' glory days were over.

I wonder who on the 2011 squad could possibly fill 2008-Greg-Dobbs' shoes. If anybody can, and especially after Friday's glorious walk-off pinch hit, I hope it's John Mayberry Jr.

Luckily, Philly Gameday got the answer to the question "can the Phillies win without Greg Dobbs?" for us, straight from the source himself:

Hello again fans! Greg Dobbs here doing some pinch-blogging (heh, see what I did there?) about the Phillies’ chances to overcome the loss of Greg Dobbs and continue their run atop the NL East. The Phillies current run of four-straight division titles began back on January 15, 2007, when the Phillies re-affirmed their commitment to winning by claiming Greg Dobbs off waivers from the Seattle Mariners. The rest—as they say—is history.

Greg Dobbs led Philadelphia to its first playoff appearance in 13 years, its first division title in 24 years and its first World Series title in 28 years. Greg Dobbs was enjoying all the success he brought to the team and thought the ride would never end. But Greg Dobbs was wrong.

Read the rest of the article here.

Matt F***ing Anderson

Matt Anderson was a #1 draft pick in 1997. Chain wallets and JNCO (Judge None, Choose One) jeans were all the rage and "MMMBop" was at the top of the charts. Mike Tyson bit Evander Holyfield's ear off and people thought that creepy dancing baby on Ally McBeal was entertainment. It makes you wonder, VH1, if anyone outside of Matt Anderson truly did love 1997.

My point is that while the strange time in American history known as the late 90s is long gone, Matt Anderson threw a perfect inning for the Phillies yesterday in their 6-3 win over the Toronto Blue Jays. The 34-year-old right-hander recorded one strikeout and hit 96 mph on the radar gun. After the game, he told reporters, "I figure I've still got a 103, 104, 105 left in me. I'm pretty excited about where I'm at."

Anderson was signed to a minor-league deal with the Phillies this past January, hasn't pitched in the majors since 2005, and hopes to eventually resign with "the best organization in baseball."

If this Cinderella story does come true, it'll be proof that Kenny Powers isn't the only one with the keys to the kingdom and an arm like a cannon, and an inspiration to us all.



In other news, Joe Blanton can pitch, Ben Francisco can hit, Chase Utley's prone to injury, and Cliff Lee is pitching today at 1:05 pm ET versus the Detroit Tigers. For those who won't be watching while they work, the saga continues with a replay at 8:00 pm.

Up the Phillies Punx

You can check out more of the Rock n' Punk Baseball Cards series here.

I would like to get this one tattooed over my heart. Everything about it is perfect.

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