Happy Phillies Phans

Giants 2-Phillies 1

A nice breeze comes through the 400 section, so the heat is not as oppressive as it has been for the past week. To my left are a group of friends celebrating a birthday. Behind me are the real phanatics who give some running commentary about the players, the Phillies, the trades, the pitching, the batting. Joe and I sit to the left of home plate in the upper decks for this evening of few hits, fewer runs and some bloopers.
Cole Hamels lets in 2 runs, enough to sink the Phils. One of the Phillies' singles comes on a wild mishap between the Giants catcher and pitcher, who collide on the way to catching a foul ball. The only run is  scored on a missed outfield catch.
In the bottom of the 9th inning, with 2 outs and a full count, the batter hits a ball far enough for a home run.. We all stand to watch and wait and hope and .........it lands too far to the right into the stands for a foul. On the next pitch the game is over.

Learning to watch the game

A group of 15 college students from countries where baseball is not king join me for a lesson in how to play. Really though, it is a lesson in how to WATCH so that they can enjoy the trip tonight to the second Phillies vs. Giants game. We lug some plastic bats, a few balls, a glove and lots of water to Drexel Park where  we set up a small diamond and get ready to learn the basic rules and vocabulary of baseball.

They really do know nothing about baseball. Nothing.
Lesson one is learning the lingo:
the diamond, the positions, what is a strike, a ball, a walk, an out, an inning. All new and quite strange. This year I can regale them with stories of 19 inning games, taking my niece to the 6th playoff game when the Giants won the National League Championship, and fill them in on the current excitement about the Phillies vs the Giants.
Lesson two is giving them a chance to  feel the joy of swinging a bat and connecting with the ball:
One student hits the ball, then walks away.
Another student hits the ball, and runs jubilantly to the first base -with the bat still in hand!One by one, each student steps up to our makeshift home plate to simulate singles, steals, triples, and RBIs. One student wants to learn how to steal.We even have a pitcher and 2nd baseman's confab to talk about how to do a double play.
When someone comes home, I make sure we greet them with some high fives and cheers. 

It's a pitcher's game, I tell them.
It may look like nothing is happening, so watch and relish every pitch and learn to understand what the count means. Look to see if the umpire's hand  points right when Cole Hamels pitches. That is a strike!  Check the board to see what kind of pitch, the speed, the count.
Lean forward on the 3-2 count.
Stand up and clap to honor the pitcher walking off the field, replaced by a relief pitcher..
Follow the directions on the HD screen to 'make noise.
Hope that Cain, the Giants' pitcher throws outside the strike zone for 4 balls. That's a walk.

It's a batter's game, I tell them.
Cheer as the Phillies batter runs to first base and hope the umpire spreads his arms wide to show that the batter is 'safe'.  Hold your breath as you  follow the long fly ball that you hope will go out of the park. Groan in disappointment as it is caught by the center fielder.
Scream for the the runner as he crosses home plate.
I share with them the chant Raooooooool that we croon when Raul Ibanez comes to the plate.

And when something happens that you don't understand, turn around and ask someone, "What just happened?" It is something I have done many times!

I tell them: Take a walk around the park to get a good look from all angles. Buy some overpriced water or overcooked hotdogs. Sway to the sounds of  'Take me out to the ballgame'.  (we learn the words and practice it) Take lots of pictures.

Enjoy the ride to the park, the vendors hawking pretzels and peanuts. Enjoy the ballpark. Enjoy the not so oppressively hot evening, the view of the city, being in the stands with 45, 808 people for a lovely night of "America's game".

Enjoy the game.   Play ball!

Red Sox 5, Phillies 2

Dear Mom,

How I want to call to tell you  tales of my latest Phillies adventures, describing the the red and white costumed subway riders, the people who were my partners in sport.  and to give you a play by play by play by play of this afternoon's 3rd game with the Boston Red Sox.

You aren't on the other end of the phone to be totally bemused by my new found passion, sprung loose like the cork on a champagne bottle within the last year. How amazed you were when I would call from the ballpark gushing with glee after a home run, or a grand slam, a no hitter, or during what would be a 19 inning game.

I knew that I could call because you always loved to be part of whatever your children, and your grandchildren and friends of your family were up to. Whether it was attending concerts of Indonesian puppetry and dance that you enjoyed through your eldest son Marc; displaying children's books written by your middle son Eric; getting involved in any number of projects of mine from dance concerts to ice skating exhibitions to Dales' birthday parties, you were there. Your love of  theater, from Kennedy Center to your granddaughter's middle school and high school productions is legendary, but you also attended elementary school children's soccer games,championship gymnastic, swimming and diving meets. Never grudgingly. You truly loved it.

You aren't on the phone  for me to describe how it felt to ride the express train to the ballpark with fathers, daughters, sons, groups of coworkers, old and young,  many in Phillies garb. I couldn't call you on this 85 degree afternoon in the sun, yet another perfect day for a ball game, to tell you that sitting in the ballpark in outer left field with 40,000 fans was exactly where I wanted to be, needed to be today. It is always a privilege, a delight, an exquisite ride of ups and downs, rallies and exaltation being at a baseball game.

You aren't here for me to tell you that being with you as much as possible  for the past 7 months was also exactly where I wanted to be, needed to be . It was always a privilege, a delight, an exquisite ride of ups and downs, rallies and exaltations being your daughter.

In fact, it was the best game in town and I was thrilled to be right behind home plate with all of us cheering you on.
 ________________________

P.S. We lost today 5-2. Oh well, it's only June, the Phillies are still #1 in both Leagues and unlike missing you, it's just a game.

Great night for baseball

A half moon hangs in the sky. An 85 degree night with no threat of rain. Another great night for baseball. I am in heaven, quite literally, the upper deck at the far corner of the left field seats for the third game against the LA Dodgers. Our view is the wide angle lens shot of the field, less intimate and immediately compelling than other places I've sat, so it takes time to settle in and focus. Fortunately, tonight I am joined by Peter, Isaac and Joe, 3 absolute Baseball aficionados, who trade colorful commentary past present, even future. On either side of me I am treated to 'BSL" Baseball as a Second Language. At one point, Isaac is describing a game that he saw, and though I know all the words he is using, the meaning is opaque to me. At this moment I wish that I had a tape recorder to document this language sample.

As a child, my father would listen to the Pittsburgh Pirates games in the car, but because all I knew was that he wanted us to be quiet, I did not appreciate how dear this experience was to him. I don't remember him ever actually attending a game, and don't remember ever being taken to one, so in looking back am sad of this lost opportunity to share my father's love of listening to the color commentators. for a team that was in it's prime.  I can only now imagine the rapturous melody of a skilled announcer who could convey excitement through the speakers of the radio in our Buick stationwagon. : "And it's a high ball to center.........it's over the head of the center fielder..........it'sA HOME RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The first 5 innings go quickly, up down, up down. Cole Hamels pitches brilliantly  letting  in one hit that goes nowhere for the Dodgers. But the Phillies are not hitting either, so we wonder if this will be another long game.
Then  Ryan Howard is up to bat. Ahhhhhhhhhhh. And it's a high ball to center...it's over the head of the center fielder..its A HOME RUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 NOW we have a game as both teams start  hitting. Along the way the Phillies produce some excitement with 2 elegant triples.  Triples are about the running: there is always the tension as the runner bolts around second-will he try for third base? Home? Will the fielder be able to throw it in time for an out?
The Dodgers pitcher walks several runners. With the bases loaded, 2 outs, a 3-2 count  the fans are on our feet cheering, cheering, cheering. The batter swings, "it's a flyyyyyyyyy ball................... ...............caught by the center fielder". Like a balloon deflated, we settle back into our seats. The stadium is quiet again.
The Dodgers challenge Hamels with some hits, but he fights back with strike outs to retire them for another inning, for a total of 8 innings.
The Phillies do score one more with what I learn is as close to a 'suicide squeeze play' as I am  likely to see, a close slide to home, safe at the plate. Another chance to stand and yell. The Dodgers never recover, and with no runs in the top of the 9th inning, the game is over. Smiles all around.  Phillies 2, Dodgers 0.

A postscript: We pour into the Broad Street subway line that is always waiting for us after the game. The train is crowded, not just with the red and white of the Phillies fans, but also with fans carrying programs from the "Glee" concert. I get some vicarious pleasure from hearing the reports of the concert, which I had considered going to until I found out the price. One man with a program said, "It was good" and the woman he was with said, "It was fantastic, he's lying". One family has come from Baltimore, another man from New York.
"Isn't the show playing in New York?", I ask him. "Oh, I saw it there, too! With all the teenage girls, gay guys, and women who could drag their boyfriends."