A tip of the cap to Lady Luck

Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than good. That was certainly the case Saturday night at Citizens Bank Park.
By the sheer luck of the draw, my partial season ticket package included the Sept. 17 game against the St. Louis Cardinals. Certainly there is no way I could have anticipated back in March, when I received my season tickets, that Saturday’s game would end up being the night the Phillies clinched their fifth consecutive National League Eastern Division title.
It was the second title-clinching game that I have seen in person. In 1993, the Chicago White Sox, featuring Frank Thomas and Bo Jackson, clinched a division crown against the Seattle Mariners, featuring a young Ken Griffey Jr., in Chicago at what was called “new” Comiskey Park, which was then only three years old.



That one had a little more planning involved, although in the end, it was Lady Luck who served it up to me and my friend Chris Dettro.
An old school baseball fan, Chris was my running buddy back in Illinois in the 1990s. Neither of us could convince our womenfolk to join us on baseball excursions, but that was OK because it left more beer for us.
And neither of us were White Sox fans, we just enjoyed trying to be in the ballpark for big moments. (We would later scheme to be in the ballpark when Cal Ripken Jr. broke Lou Gehrig’s consecutive game streak in 1995. Unfortunately, we missed by one game and ended up in Cleveland at the game the day after the record was broken.)
For our White Sox ticket to be the clincher in 1993 though, we needed help from the Texas Rangers. We had purchased the tickets a few weeks in advance trying to predict when the clincher would be. They were $8 bleacher tickets, so if we were wrong, we would be out only $8.
The White Sox and Rangers were playing a doubleheader on Sunday and our tickets were for Monday evening. The White Sox needed to split that doubleheader to make Monday night the potential clincher.
It appeared early on that the White Sox were not going to cooperate. They won the first game of the twinbill and had their ace pitcher, Jack McDowell, throwing the second game. If the Sox won that game, the division title was theirs and Chris and I would have missed by one game.
Since we weren’t White Sox fans, it was easy to cheer against them in the second game. I was working at the newspaper that Sunday evening and we had the TV on watching the game as the Rangers prevailed. It was the only time I can remember cheering for the Texas Rangers to win anything.
Being in Chicago the next night for the clincher was pretty exciting. There hasn’t been a whole lot of winning baseball in Chicago over the past century, and the winning that has been done has been mostly by the White Sox.
The excitement in Philly on Saturday was a lot like that night in Chicago in 1993. Even though the good guys have won five division titles in a row, winning titles never gets old. Fortunately, 14-year-old Son of Blonde Accountant was with me and he got to see his first clincher. That alone is worth a tip of the cap to Lady Luck.

Kruk, Williams solidify 'character' personas

Remember those two old guy muppets on “The Muppet Show” — their names are Statler and Waldorf — who heckled the rest of the cast from the balcony, then yukked it up at their own jokes?
Well, meet the modern-day Statler and Waldorf — Mitch Williams and John Kruk, mainstays of the 1993 Philadelphia Phillies squad that lost the World Series to the Toronto Blue Jays when Williams gave up a series-ending home run to Joe Carter. (Boo-boo, hiss-hiss.)



Both are in town for the Phillies Alumni Weekend, which will include Kruk’s induction into the team’s Wall of Fame. And both appeared Thursday at the alumni luncheon at the stadium and showed once again why they are beloved in this city.
Put microphones in front of these two, sit back and prepare to be entertained. They’ve known each other for a long time. Both talk baseball for a living now — Kruk for ESPN’s “Baseball Tonight” and Williams for MLB Network — and both are real characters.
Kruk in particular has that “grumpy old guy” thing down, even though he’s only 50 years old. You expect him to shout, “Hey you kids, get off my lawn!” at any moment.
During their playing careers, neither Kruk nor Williams was all that fond of answering questions from reporters. But I happened to be standing next to former Phillies pitcher Tommy Greene while Kruk and Williams answered questions from the audience during that part of the festivities.
“Krukky doesn’t look like he’s enjoying this very much,” I said.
“Nah, that’s just him. He’s a Scrooge,” said Greene.
Williams, younger at 46, has gone from being the goat of the 1993 World Series to finding a comfortable place in the hearts of Phillies fans. And it’s because he always took full responsibility for throwing the wrong pitch at the wrong time to the wrong guy.
“Joe Carter is one of those rare right-handed hitters who likes the ball down and in,” Williams told the crowd. “I knew that, so that pitch was supposed to be up and away.”
“Missed by just a little bit, huh?” Kruk added.
Har-har-hardy-har-har. These guys should add a drummer to their act just for the rim shots.
Blue collar guys for a blue collar city. They should never have to buy another beer in this town for as long as they live.

Right field 'Pence-syl-mania'

As part of the right field contingent at Citizens Bank Ballpark — I’ve had the same seats in my season ticket package since the ballpark was built — it was cool to be there Saturday night to welcome Hunter Pence in his debut as the Phillies new right fielder.
It was exciting to be part of the crowd that reacted to Pence’s arrival. When he came out before the game to loosen up, everybody went crazy-go-nuts. When he trotted out to his position with the other Phillies to start the game, everybody stood and applauded him again. When he was introduced for his first at-bat as a Phillie — which came on the heels of a Ryan Howard home run to lead off the second inning that already had the crowd charged up — it was more of the same.



From my vantage point, it looked like Pence enjoyed the whole experience, a fact he confirmed the next day in media accounts. “The crowd gave me chills,” he said.
He reacted to the attention by waving to the faithful, tipping his cap a couple of times and turning to acknowledge the fans several times during the game.
Pence wears his pants high, to show a lot of red sock. It’s a good look for him. With apologies to Roy Halladay, my sense is that having Pence on this team is going to make it even more funner than it already is.

Hu really is on first

Jeez, I hope it wasn’t my fault. I finally got to my first Phillies game Tuesday evening. Up to that point, the home team was a perfect 3-0 to start the season. So I show up and everything goes to Hades in a handbag.
Among the things that went wrong: Pitcher Cole Hamels stunk up the joint; it was cold; the Phillies didn’t hit much with runners in scoring position; it was really cold; the New York Mutts, uh . . . I mean Mets, did just about everything right, especially third baseman David Wright, who had four hits, two RBIs and two runs scored; and it was colder than a witch’s watoosie.



(The accompanying video provides some of the sights and sounds of what was my 2011 Opening Day at the ballpark.)
When there’s nothing much to cheer about, I try to think up alternative things for which to root, root, root. Since the Phillies weren’t providing many options, I decided to cheer for:
(1) My hands to stay warm.
(2) My feet to stay warm.
(3) My hind end to stay warm.
All of which were as cold as the Phillies bats seemed to be in the frigid temperatures. Move along pal, nothing to cheer for here.
Fortunately, the Mets provided me with a more interesting distraction. In the fifth inning, Mets manager Terry Collins replaced second baseman Brad Emaus with Chin-lung Hu, which immediately prompted me to ask myself, “What’s Hu doing on second? I thought Hu was on first.”
Another of the things I do to enjoy the ballgame is keep a scorecard, which I’ve done since I was a kid. Over the years, that has kind of made me the unofficial stat guy for my section. Oftentimes I’ve been asked by those sitting near me how many strikeouts a certain pitcher has or how many hits a certain hitter has at that point in the game.
The Mets new second baseman, who had entered the game in the fifth, batted in the sixth and singled up the middle. The Phillies fan sitting behind apparently had missed the lineup change.
“What’s the guy’s name on first?” he said after tapping me on the shoulder.
“Hu.”
“The guy on first?”
“Hu.”
“The guy who just got the base hit?”
“Hu.”
While I was amused by the whole exchange, I thought it best not to push it any further. Phillies fans aren’t exactly known for their patience and I didn’t want to take a chance of getting wacked upside the head by a guy who thought I was messing with him.
I finally had to show him my scorecard on which I had written Hu’s name.
“Oh, right,” he said.
No, he’s on third.

Never too cold for hot-stove history

There’s nothing that takes away the sting of cold weather more than witnessing a little bit of baseball history in January.

On a day full of football in which it was decided that the Green Bay Packers would meet the Pittsburgh Steelers in Super Bowl XLV, the only two men in the history of baseball to have thrown no-hitters in the postseason met face-to-face — possibly for the first time — Sunday at a Valley Forge hotel in front of a handful of fans lucky enough to realize what they were witnessing.
Phillies ace Roy Halladay and Yankees legend Don Larsen were part of an autograph-signing show that also included Phils’ skipper Charlie Manuel, players Cliff Lee, Placido Polanco and Domonic Brown, as well as Phillies Hall-of-Fame pitcher Jim Bunning.
For once, I was in the right place at the right time. Larsen had finished his signing session and was exiting the room full of fans just as Halladay was coming in for his session. The two pitchers greeted each other, then posed for pictures for alert fans who recognized the significance of the encounter.
Luckily, I had my video camera at the ready. You can hear the reaction of those standing near me on what they just witnessed.
The buzz in the room was that it was the first time the two had ever met face-to-face. In my brief time with Halladay at the autograph table, I asked if that was the case.
“Had you ever met Mr. Larsen?” I said.
“I’ve spoken to him,” said Halladay.
There wasn’t time for elaboration as the next autograph seeker was up and I was headed out of the line. I took Halladay to mean that he and Larsen had spoken on the phone, most likely after Halladay had tossed his gem in the 2010 playoffs.
Larsen’s no-hitter — in Game 5 of the World Series against the Brooklyn Dodgers on Oct. 8, 1956 — was a perfect game (he faced the minimum of 27 batters and recorded every out), the only time that’s ever been done in baseball history.
Halladay’s no-hitter was in Game 1 of the National League Division Series against the Cincinnati Reds on Oct. 6, 2010. That one wasn’t a perfect game, but as all Phillies fans know, Halladay had pitched a perfect game against the Florida Marlins earlier in the 2010 season.
Check out the video that accompanies this item. It’s a nice little piece of baseball history that happened right here in our own back yard.

Doesn't matter who wears No. 34

Cliff Lee vacated the Phillies jersey No. 34 when he was dealt to the Seattle Mariners a year ago.
In his place, the Phillies traded for Roy Halladay, who chose to wear No. 34 as well. All he did with that number last season was win 21 games, pitch a regular-season perfect game, a post-season no-hitter and snag the 2010 National League Cy Young Award.
The guess here is that Halladay will give Lee back No. 34 and pitch next season with a middle-finger symbol duct taped to the back of his shirt.
Because after watching Halladay compete for a year, that’s what he thinks about his opponents, how much he cares about winning and how little I suspect he cares about what number is on his back.
If you were up late Monday night and engaging in social networking, it was indeed an exciting time to be a Phillies fan. I grew up in Chicago Cubs territory, and believe me the Cubbies have never generated as much interest and excitement as the Phillies did last night, unless of course the late, great Cubs Hall of Fame broadcaster Harry Caray had consumed a case of Budweiser during a ballgame.
The Twitter crowd was absolutely out of its collective mind. Rumors started floating through Twitter late in the evening about the Phillies getting Lee and it was equal parts excitement and wariness. Some thought it was just some Twitter shenanigans designed to work the faithful into a lather.
Then word started filtering in from more official baseball media sources that first the Yankees, and then the Rangers, had been informed that they were out of the running for Lee. And the aforementioned lather became a full-blown eruption.
It was a lot of fun to see the immediate reaction of the Phillies fans on Twitter. I was still reading comments until 2 a.m. It’s a great story.
And there’s a whiff in the air that general manager Ruben Amaro Jr. may not yet be done wheeling and dealing.
Given this stunning set of circumstances, at what point today will the Phillies be forced to cut off season ticket requests?

Happy-happy, Roy-Roy

I spent the better part of last weekend thinking that I did something to hork off Phillies pitcher Roy Oswalt. Take a look at the photo accompanying this blog item. Does Oswalt look happy to see me? It’s like I told him his dog just died or something.
The hurler was among the many stars that appeared at a big ballcard show at Valley Forge Convention Center over the weekend. Among the Phillies who attended were Shane Victorino and Ryan Madsen, along with former Phils’ greats Mike Schmidt, Steve Carlton and Pete Rose.
Recently crowned National League Cy Young Award winner Roy Halladay and Cole Hamels were also scheduled to attend in what was billed as an “H2O” event, a nickname given to the Halladay-Hamels-Oswalt starting staff of the Phillies.
Unfortunately, Halladay postponed (and hopefully will be rescheduled in a few weeks) and Hamels canceled his personal appearance but was signing mail-order autographs.
The Blonde Accountant had purchased me an Oswalt autograph ticket for my birthday, so I was among the throngs of autograph seekers and baseball card treasure hunters on Saturday. (The find of the day was a 1967 card of Pirates Hall of Famer Willie Stargell — my favorite player as a kid — for $5.)
My time with Oswalt was brief. The whole thing lasted maybe 30 seconds. The only thing I said had to do with a request as to where he would sign my item. I then lumbered around the table on arthritic knees and a balky back to pose for the picture that you see.
When I looked at the picture afterwards, I thought, “Hey, I took a shower.” Roy Oswalt doesn’t even know who I am. So why does he have the Sad Sack mug?
Then the news broke Sunday evening that Oswalt’s teammate Jayson Werth had signed a seven-year deal with the Nationals for $126 million. No doubt Oswalt prefers Werth playing behind him in right field and providing run support when Oswalt is on the hill.
So I’m guessing of all the things that could make Roy Oswalt grimace, having his picture taken with me likely doesn’t make the list.
But losing a middle-of-the-lineup teammate to a division rival for a mountain of coin could sour one’s disposition.
That, or maybe his lunch just wasn’t sitting right.

Phils 'Photo Day' picture perfect

The Phillies organization has always tried its best to be fan friendly and last Saturday was no different at the annual “Photo Day” promotion.

The heat, which approached 100 degrees that day, didn’t seem to bother the fans or the players. Thousands of fans lined the designated areas on the field to get pictures of the players, many of whom stopped and posed with the faithful.
Son of Blonde Accountant and I had a pretty decent spot in rightfield where we waited for the players to appear. The youngster is celebrating his birthday this week and the ballgame was one of his birthday gifts.
The limited time of the event prevented us from getting pictures of all the players, but we were fortunate enough to have a few stop and pose. Primary among them was leftfielder Raul Ibanez — by all accounts a standup guy and class act — who put his arm around Son of Blonde Accountant and smiled for the camera.
Other players who stopped for us included J.A. Happ, Jose Contreras, Danys Baez, Joe Blanton, David Herndon and Vance Worley, who later made his major league debut in the game pitching a scoreless ninth inning, then was shipped out immediately after the game to Triple A Lehigh Valley to make room for Happ, who was coming off the disabled list to pitch on Sunday.
But I was particularly impressed with manager Charlie Manuel and the entire coaching staff — pitching coach Rich Dubee, bench coach Pete Mackanin, third base coach Sam Perlozzo, bullpen coach Mick Billmeyer and new hitting coach Greg Gross.
Each took plenty of time, especially with the kids, to chat and pose for pictures. Charlie took so much time that his handlers had to remind everybody within ear shot that there was a game to be played and we ought not to delay the skipper any further. Charlie didn’t seem to be in any hurry, though.
We got a lot of pictures. And the Phillies won big that day. It was a good day to be at the ballpark.

The sights and sounds of Opening Day

The Phillies home opener this year was what one would expect from the defending National League Champions. Lots of fun and lots of sun.
Among the sights, sounds and firsts of the 2010 baseball season were:
— My Opening Day lunch consisted of, what else, a cheese steak (Whiz witout) and crab fries.
— The first Opening Day beer was cold enough. But depending on one’s preferred brand, it cost between $7.25 and $7.75 a bottle. At this age, I just do not like beer that much at that price. My first beer of the season will likely be my last beer of the season at the ballpark.
— Adult males who wear their ballcaps backwards ought to turn them around, unless of course they are indeed catchers in real life.
— The Phillie Phanatic is just a big goof. He gets a pass, though, because “being a big goof” is actually in his job description. I am trying to think of a way to get it into my job description.
— Thanks to Managing Editor Craig Ostroff, I found a free parking space for the first time in 10 years of going to Phillies games. But I’m not telling you where it is because I want it to be available for me.
— I never get tired of hearing “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.” I was unsuccessful at getting it played at my wedding, but I have left specific instructions that it be played at my funeral, where the charge for beer will be substantially less than what it is at the ballpark.
All in all, it was a great home opener for the Phillies. The good guys won and are off to a good start.
And this was the fourth Opening Day I’ve spent at the ballpark without my dad. He wasn’t from around here and he wasn’t a Phillies fan, but I certainly got my love of baseball from him.
He would have enjoyed the Phanatic. My dad was always fond of big goofs.

Hey JoePa, a little help would have been nice

One week the Phillies are playing in the World Series and my alma mater, the University of Iowa, had an undefeated football team and was sniffing around a possible national championship. It was good to be me.
And then everything went kablooey on both fronts the next week. The New York Yankees spoiled back-to-back world titles hopes for the Phils and then a bunch of smart guys from Northwestern University handed the Hawkeyes their first gridiron defeat of the season and dashed any premature talk about a national college football championship. And it was bad to be me.
Naturally, both teams could have used a little help, especially the Hawkeyes. And they could have used it from JoePa and our friends at Penn State.
See, I have no particular rivalry problem with Penn State. The Nittany Lions weren’t even in the Big Ten Conference when I was at Iowa. I am friends with a lot of Penn State graduates. But I don’t have any love loss for the Ohio State Buckeyes, and that’s who Penn State played last week.
Certainly Iowa could have controlled its own destiny by just beating Northwestern. But since that didn’t happen, Iowa was hoping that Penn State could knock off Ohio State, which didn’t happen. Now Iowa goes to Ohio State this week in a must-win situation essentially to determine the Big Ten’s representative in the Rose Bowl.
Had Iowa beaten Northwestern and Penn State beaten Ohio State, then the Hawkeyes wouldn’t have to win this week in front of an unfriendly crowd in Columbus, Ohio.
Ahhh, phooey. College football frustrates me. But hey, only 14 weeks until pitchers and catchers report.

These sour grapes make a unique whine

Admittedly, I got a big crate of sour grapes ready to be distributed. But I don’t care. With the way the Yankees have treated the Phillies up to this point in the 2009 World Series, I am in no mood to be nice.
And if baseball must be played in November, then certainly I would like the Phillies to be one of the teams still playing. Having said that, though, I was at Game 4 of the World Series, it was so dadgummed cold that I nearly froze my patootie off, which had that happened, would have created a lot of problems for me trying to hold up my drawers.
It tends to get chilly this time of year around here. But hey, the alternative is somebody else’s team is still playing baseball in November, so I guess I can stand to do with a little less of my patootie.
Here’s what else about this World Series to date has me peeved:
— It appears to entirely be my fault. I was at Game 4 of the 2008 World Series and the Phillies scored 11 runs, won the game and eventually went on to become world champions. I apparently did not do my job as a fan this year in Game 4, and for that I apologize.
— Ballplayers, Phillies included, either need to shave or not shave. I am tired of looking at four-day facial growth. Either grow a beard or don’t grow a beard. I am surprised the baseball wives have not chimed in on this. What, I have the only wife in the world who doesn’t like to snuggle up and have her face scratched?
— Tuck in the back pocket of your baseball pants. Players sometimes keep a batting glove, or something else in that back pocket. When they pull that something out, the pocket gets turned inside out. It needs to be tucked in because it just looks stupid flapping there in the wind, especially on anybody in Yankees pinstripes.
— I am no longer interested in anything that Alex Rodriguez has to say on any topic, not even if he’s talking about Kate Hudson.
— Having said that, I will not and did not boo Derek Jeter or Mariano Rivera. They’re great players, they show a lot of class and all they do is beat you. That should be admired by all baseball fans.
And then the Phillies won Game 5 Monday night and I was less grumpy. At the time that this is written, there could be one more game, there could be two more games. The outcome will determine weather my weekend is full of wine or . . . whine.

Phils win! Wake up! Or not

There is this unwritten personal rule that I have subscribed to for years: I like to be the first person in the ballpark and the last one to leave.
What that means is that one never leaves a ballgame early, or to translate it further, if one cannot attend the game in person, one never goes to sleep until the last out of the game has been recorded.
To have violated that rule Monday night would have meant missing Jimmy Rollins’ two-out, bottom-of-the-ninth, dramatic double in the gap that scored Eric Bruntlett and Carlos Ruiz to give the Phillies an improbable 5-4 come-from-behind victory over the Los Angeles Dodgers to take a commanding 3-1 lead in the best-of-seven National League Championship Series.
In a similar situation last year in the NLCS between the same two teams, the Phillies’ Matt Stairs hit a two-run homer off Dodgers’ closer Jonathon Broxton to give the Phils a 7-5 victory en route to what would eventually become a World Series championship.
Like Monday night, Stairs’ blast last year happened later in the evening, after everybody but me had gone to sleep at my house. When Stairs crushed a Broxton fastball and sent it deep into the Los Angeles night in 2008, I let out a yee-ha that awakened The Blonde Accountant and the kids.
I’d say I was sorry about waking everybody up, but it was a really big home run in a really big situation and by my way of thinking, nobody should have been sleeping anyway, even if it was a school night.
A similar situation occurred Monday night. Everybody but me was asleep. Same teams, big game, big situation. And the Phillies pulled it off again! Phils win! Phils win!
Remembering that my hootin’ and hollarin’ last year awakened the neighborhood and at that moment finding nobody standing upright with which to do The Happy Dance, I was as subdued as I could be laying there in bed.
My solution this year was to start tapping furiously on The Blonde Accountant’s thigh, which in our house usually means something other than, "Hey, hon, the Phillies won a big ballgame."
Her response was something akin to, “Huh?” She stirred from her slumber as the Phillies mobbed Rollins, seeing absolutely nothing of the celebration, leaned over, turned on the nightstand lamp, and said, “Goodnight.”
I had to get up, go around to her side of the bed, and turn the light off. She had no recollection of the exchange the next morning.
But there was no doubt she was right about one thing: It was a good night.

Hey Phillies fans, reading really is fun

You know, I love Phillies fans. Hey, I’m one of them. But really, a few of them need to work on their reading skills.
Recently I was in New York and while there, I picked up a t-shirt that read: “New York Mess: Back to back collapses, 2007 and 2008.”
See, we Phillies fans really don’t like the New York Mets too much, and the fact that they horked up their playoff chances the past few seasons in a couple of late-season choke jobs gives Phillies fans particular delight.
Figuring that a t-shirt like that would play pretty well at Citizens Bank Park with the faithful, I purchased the shirt and wore in last Friday night to the Phillies game against the St. Louis Cardinals.
I guess my first mistake was thinking that once mass quantities of cold adult beverages had been consumed by a Phillies crowd, that fans could still tell the difference between “Mets” and “Mess” printed on a t-shirt.
That’s not to say that everybody in the crowd got it wrong. Several people commented to me that they liked the t-shirt. But a few jamoke spelling bee refugees didn’t focus quite enough and spent some time jamming me up verbally, like they would do to any Mets fan. The Phillies ball cap I was wearing apparently wasn’t enough of a clue either.
Knuckleheads. The t-shirt is an anti-Mets shirt. Take an extra moment to read it correctly.
One guy in my section in right field referred to me as “Mr. Met” all evening until my patience finally ran out in about the eighth inning. I stood up, turned around, pointed to the shirt and yelled, “Read carefully!”
His response? “Oh.”
Brilliant retort. We should ship that guy to New York and let him root for the Mets. It would raise the I.Q. of both fan bases.