Being at the Olympics in February renewed my love for Vancouver and the Pacific Northwest, as warm and generous Canadian hospitality seduced me into cheering for exceptional athletes from distant countries. My one time attending the rough and tumble Philadelphia Flyers match gave me the chance to connect with a friend who grew up skating on ponds in Canada, and brought into view others who love hockey, a sport that I'm just getting warmed up to.
But it has been The Philadelphia Phillies baseball team, at home, in a beautiful ballpark, with a tremendous view of the city, who were to turn me into a phan.
How did it all get started? 
Sometime after I returned from the Olympics, I bought three 100 level tickets on the third base line to the Opening Night Home game in April. After all, one must adhere to ritual openings if you are to become an initiate into a new religion. Mind you, I was still a relative novice at understanding some of the finer points of the game, but knowing that I would be between two of my favorite Phillie Phanatic Phans was comforting.
Being at the Olympics in February renewed my love for Vancouver and the Pacific Northwest, as warm and generous Canadian hospitality seduced me into cheering for exceptional athletes from distant countries. My one time attending the rough and tumble Philadelphia Flyers match gave me the chance to connect with a friend who grew up skating on ponds in Canada, and brought into view others who love hockey, a sport that I'm just getting warmed up to. But it has been The Philadelphia Phillies baseball team, at home, in a beautiful ballpark, with a tremendous view of the city, who were to turn me into a phan.
How did it all get started?
Sometime after I returned from the Olympics, I bought three 100 level tickets on the third base line to the Opening Night Home game in April. After all, one must adhere to ritual openings if you are to become an initiate into a new religion. Mind you, I was still a relative novice at understanding some of the finer points of the game, but knowing that I would be between two of my favorite Phillie Phanatic Phans was comforting.In March, I suffered a traumatic hand injury that put my busy life on pause. [Understatement of understatements] March 31 was surgery day, so even by game day on April 14, my hand was still bandaged and I was in a lot of pain. -You can imagine that this is just the bare minimum of a longer story,- but I digress from the main point here. By gosh, by golly, I was determined to go to the game.
Game night
The phans arrive from all over the city, most in jerseys, or T-shirts of their favorite players. Black caps festooned with the words 'World Series 2008 Champs' are some of my favorites. I have yet to acquire any gear-instead, I wear my light blue Olympics hat and sling my bright pink Olympics bag over my shoulder.
The energy is light hearted, family oriented. People saunter to the gates where the guards check out our bags, scan our tickets, and give out X-Large grey Opening Night T-shirts (courtesy of McDonalds!). Darn-My first Phillies attire, and its too big, and its grey. (That goes straight to the nightshirt drawer).
We find our seats in the 11th row to the left of 3rd base. I can't believe how close we are, how green the field is, how brilliant all the colors are from that angle. I am so used to sitting up in the last row of the 400 level and now we are royalty.
Phan story and quote of the night: so much of any sporting event is the fan drama. In our section sitting in the first few rows, there was a father and mother who brought their 4 small children.At one point in the game, all of us were taking in bits and pieces of a recurring theme as the mother shlepped herself, her children and several bags up and down and up and down the stairs for various shopping excursions. Finally, a man in the rows behind us couldn't stand watching her do all the work. He stood up, indignant, and shouted, "Get your husband to help, for God's sake".
The first pitches go badly, and Melvin bites down on his knuckles "I have a bad feeling about this." But the Phillies don't disappoint that night. Their bats are hitting, keeping us jumping up to our feet for 14 runs.
I didn't know it when I bought the tickets back in February that what I would need in April would be to scream, to yell, to jump up and down with all my energy focused on something else other than pain. I didn't know that I would so enjoy being a part of a crowd of people all going through the same expressions of joy, anxiety, nervousness and exhaltant release. I didn't know that being at the ballpark on April 14 would be the start of a summer and fall adventure that would bring me back to life.
But that's the rest of the story...
Final Series:
The phans arrive from all over the city, most in jerseys, or T-shirts of their favorite players. Black caps festooned with the words 'World Series 2008 Champs' are some of my favorites. I have yet to acquire any gear-instead, I wear my light blue Olympics hat and sling my bright pink Olympics bag over my shoulder.
The energy is light hearted, family oriented. People saunter to the gates where the guards check out our bags, scan our tickets, and give out X-Large grey Opening Night T-shirts (courtesy of McDonalds!). Darn-My first Phillies attire, and its too big, and its grey. (That goes straight to the nightshirt drawer).
We find our seats in the 11th row to the left of 3rd base. I can't believe how close we are, how green the field is, how brilliant all the colors are from that angle. I am so used to sitting up in the last row of the 400 level and now we are royalty.
Phan story and quote of the night: so much of any sporting event is the fan drama. In our section sitting in the first few rows, there was a father and mother who brought their 4 small children.At one point in the game, all of us were taking in bits and pieces of a recurring theme as the mother shlepped herself, her children and several bags up and down and up and down the stairs for various shopping excursions. Finally, a man in the rows behind us couldn't stand watching her do all the work. He stood up, indignant, and shouted, "Get your husband to help, for God's sake".
The first pitches go badly, and Melvin bites down on his knuckles "I have a bad feeling about this." But the Phillies don't disappoint that night. Their bats are hitting, keeping us jumping up to our feet for 14 runs.
I didn't know it when I bought the tickets back in February that what I would need in April would be to scream, to yell, to jump up and down with all my energy focused on something else other than pain. I didn't know that I would so enjoy being a part of a crowd of people all going through the same expressions of joy, anxiety, nervousness and exhaltant release. I didn't know that being at the ballpark on April 14 would be the start of a summer and fall adventure that would bring me back to life. But that's the rest of the story...
Final Series:
