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.

Let's Go Eat

Nadine and I wanted to make our triumphant return to blogging with a nonfiction novella about that awkwardly lovable right-handed bat from Texas with no first names, Hunter Pence. How could he not be an instant Phillie fan favorite? The old-fashioned socks, the wit, the appetite, the Cliff Lee hooking him up with cowboy boots. Swoon! He's pretty much the anti-Werth outside of the right-handed bat thing. That no longer rings true for Werth, as his batting average hasn't helped anything but bar prices since he took that long walk to DC. But every time I plan on writing a post about a Phillie that isn't Kyle Kendrick or go to a game that Kyle Kendrick isn't pitching at, I am a total jinx. Sure, Pence singled last night after striking out three times, but I still managed to mess up that nice statistic about the Phillies winning whenever Pence hits. So let's save that goofy gangletron for another day, talk about why I couldn't sleep after last night's loss, and then go eat.

Let us first reflect on the Great Doctor and Cy Young Collector Harry Leroy "Roy" Halladay III. The same question is probably on everyone's mind whenever Doc goes into the ninth. While he's especially good at getting out of jams and pitching a quick and efficient nine innings, maybe Charlie should let the relief pitchers work every now and then. While Doc has proven us all wrong before, and it's awesome when he does, last night's loss to the D-Bags was especially rough knowing that in addition to neck tattoos, the D-Bags also lead the league in comebacks. Last night marked their 35th of the season. Doc also had his first extra-base hit ever in addition to pitching a solid game which did not help my mood. Instead, it made me reminisce on that postseason no-hitter he also had a hit in. Memories. I guess losses are just tougher on nights when you feel the Roy Halladay magic.

That brings me to my second point about them late innings bats. Tuesday's bottom of the ninth was difficult to watch: one out, runner in scoring position, and Ross Gload and J-Roll strikeout. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the Harry Kalas statue was also revealed last night or that I haven't been won over by Gload yet or that I had one too many beers, but before he even got up to bat, an old mantra popped into my head, "In case of emergency, use Stairs." Matt Stairs' home run was the last Harry the K called in 2009, and while Stairs was released from the Nats earlier this year, I wanted him to fly in then and there to save the day. That, or I wanted John Mayberry Jr. to be pinch hitting instead of pinch running.

You could replay Tuesday night's game a lot of different ways to make yourself feel better. At the end of the night, the next morning, and the next day, it's still just baseball — at least until the clock strikes 7:05 PM. I guess it's best to just maintain the same attitude as a fan of baseball that Hunter Pence does as a recent addition to the best team in baseball. “This is nice,” Pence said, “but I definitely don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

Let's go eat.

Jayson Werthless

There was a time not too long ago when I was sitting with my brother in the bleacher seats at Yankee Stadium listening to chants of "Werthless" directed toward right field. My brother is a Yankee lover despite the fact that he has no problem matching the baseball cap of any AL or NL team to whatever color polo shirt he's wearing. I will never understand this phenomenon in bro fashion, but I have to admit that while morally questionable, his wall of caps is pretty impressive. His bedroom is just like Lids if Lids smelled like Axe and had a bed in the center of it. My brother wisely chose to go with one of his many Yankees caps that day while I donned my beat-up Phillies cap. I felt like Elaine Benes at Yankee Stadium, booed as much as Jayson Werth while returning to my seat with a birthday Bud Lite for my favorite Yankee bro.

While Phillies fans are infamous booers and will probably greet the new Natty beau (heh, see what I did there?) with louder rounds of boos than the Yankees did, they have their reasons. The Yankees fans that surrounded me that day were itching to boo anything that wasn't branded with a Yankee symbol. This included Jayson Werth, me, and could have included my Yankee brother had he chosen a different shirt/hat combo. The bleacher creatures of Yankee Stadium do not discriminate. Their chants of "Werthless" upset me, and not because I was a Phillies fan, but because they were unfocused and followed by chants of "you suck" at all things non-Yankee. That said, I don't think that Werth will be received kindly when Philadelphia takes over Nationals Park today, but at least there will be a method to the Phillies fan's madness.

I used to like Werth. I was sad to see him go. I almost cried when he talked about noticing the change in leaves for the first time after returning from 2010's loss to the Giants in the NLCS, and that whole "this is definitely not the same game I played in my grandparents' backyard as a kid" bit. Then the man chose money over baseball while his buddy Cliff did the opposite, and went on to pout for months about how he was on one of the worst teams in baseball. Werth was then caught swinging a bat while saying, "I hate the fucking Phillies." Of course the fans are going to turn. To quote Nadine's own father: "I have a bounty on Jayson Werth's head. 500 bucks to the first person to hit him with a battery."

Werth's obviously not over us either. In his first game with the Nationals, he chose "November Rain" by Guns N' Roses as his at-bat music:

Cause nothin' lasts forever and we both know hearts can change

It's hard not to read more into that. It's like watching John Cusack hold up a boombox outside a window in Say Anything. Werth's trying to tell us something. "November Rain" is an epic ballad about the misery of a former rock star reminiscing over a past relationship that ends in suicide—a newly married bride's gunshot to the head. In the music video, she kind of reminds you of newly married to the Nationals Werth, but then again, so does the down and out Axl Rose and the lost in the desert Slash wailing on guitar. After all, November was when the Phillies gave Werth an offer that he turned down to become a free agent. Either way, it will be interesting to see how this soap opera plays out. I know that Charlie's ready for Werth, as he was recently quoted saying, "I’ll be on him. I’ll be getting on him. I’ll be getting on J-Dub. I’ll be hollering at him."

As for me, I'm just happy that Ben Francisco's been doing such a great job in right field since we lost Werth, who truly wasn't worthless to the Phillies at all. He played great baseball here—hit home runs, dove for balls, had interesting facial hair. However, one area where Benny excels and is continuing to excel compared to Werth is hitting with runners in scoring position (RISP).

So the real question is, to boo or not to boo Werth in the April rain? It's hard to hate Werth all that much. Maybe Axl Rose is right: "everybody needs some time on their own."

Beverly Hills Cop vs. Midnight Cowboy

Everybody's talkin' about it. With Werth on the Nats next season, who's going to take over in right field? I've read it all. Ben Francisco with hints of Ross Gload? John Mayberry Jr.? That lovable newbie Domonic Brown? The boy did receive a standing ovation from the crowd at CBP prior to his first major league at bat and his later major league strikeouts. (Plus, people really loved him as Eddie Murphy as Axel Foley, a free wheeling Detroit cop that moves to Beverly Hills to investigate his best friend's murder.)

While all of these predictions are reasonable, every Tom, Dick, and Harry that supposedly knows anything about baseball has somehow overlooked the chances that Charlie will bring in his secret weapon. Yes, I'm talkin' about that jack of all trades Roy Oswalt. You know, when he's not busy being an ace (like on this dumb novelty t-shirt). Seriously, people. Rewatch his stint in left field from last season, and try not to think to yourself, "Great, but can he play right field?"

Little Roy ! How unexpected! How magical! I imagine his move from the mound to the outfield and back again would look a lot like this, cowboy Joe Buck's big move in the opening scene of the 1969 film Midnight Cowboy (Harry Nilsson's "Everybody's Talkin'" would definitely be playing):

Ah, to dream big, but let's get real. I can go out into right field and snag fly balls for the Phillies. The real issue is finding someone that's a smart hitter. People keep wondering what we're going to do next season without Jayson Werth's bat. I don't think his loss will be that big of a deal if Jimmy and Chase stay out of the hospital and Ryan Howard tells his boys to get him to the batting cages. Plus, while it's undeniable that Werth's a good power hitter, it should be noted that, like the Phillies last year, especially in the postseason, he had trouble coming through with ducks on the pond.

Right now we're a pitching team with a hitting problem. If we learn how to work the bats this year, the postseason's going to play out in our favor. Until then, let's just hope that we don't have to listen to another Joe Buck give us backhanded compliments when we do win.

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.