In Philly We Trust

By Tough Love
Senior Love God

Fightins’ win, Fightins’ win!!!

It doesn’t get any better than listening to Phillies announce Harry Kalas call the final out of Wednesday night’s deciding game. If I could link up the final call, I’d force all my N.L. fans a chance to hear one of the greatest baseball announcers ever to what he does best.

Of all of my memories of Philly baseball, and my childhood days at the park, Wednesday was just as exciting as the 1993 World Series I attended with my father. It was the day before the Phillies were to play the Braves, and word on the street was that Veterans Stadium was sold out. I wanted to go, of course. My pop always said, “It’s all who you know, son.”

And yes it was. My cousin Nicky had two extra tickets he was selling for a hundred bucks each. At that time, that was HUGE cash! I told him I’d pay him later, fully knowing dad was going to take care of the tab.

So, when I arrived to my father’s house with two tickets in hand, he said, “hey, you nut, that’s too much money for those tickets!” He didn’t even know they were in the upper deck, and in center field. If you know the Vet, you’d know those seats were just about in the state of Delaware.

It didn’t matter. As I told him, “we might never get a chance to see them back here again.”

I was having to convince a man who bought me a new ball or bat almost every week since I was two years old that this was a good thing. You might have thought we were rich, except we we nowhere close. It was all about the love.

The rest of the of the night wasn’t your typical father and son night at the park. If you know South Philly, you know the row homes and corner bars aren’t Disneyland. But that’s where our night started.

I was only 16, but there I was sitting at the bar with pops, drinking a beer watching the first inning on the TV in this packed dive bar. I knew if I whined about getting there late, it would’ve put my dad in a bit of a sour mood. Plus, what an amazing time I was having reeling in all the energy of the moment, and doing it with my best friend.

So went the night, a Phillies’ 10th inning 4-3 win behind Curt Schilling and Mitch Williams, that eventually put them into the World Series against Joe Carter and the Toronto Blue Jays.

And now, the city I was born in, and have been a dedicated fan of for 32 years, are sending their prized Phillies to the World Series for the first time in 15 years.

When I called dad to talk about the game after, he said, “remember when you took me to that game in ‘93?”

I sure did, but it was he who took me to the game. Doing what a good teammate and father does, he sacrificed his night for my enjoyment and memory.

A minute into the conversation, dad says to me, “I’m going to walk down the street to see what’s going on.” And by that he meant, even at 63, he was going to have a couple beers and join the party.

Yo, how ‘bout dem Phils!?!

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