Philly Sports Stories
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Ave Rating:
6.4
Being the Phillies means never having to say your sorry.
I started following the Phillies in 1955 when I was ten. Our next door neighbor would invite me and my brothers over to watch the game with him and give my mother some releif. He was in his seventies and was still mad at the Phillies over the 1915 World Series. He said the Club had roped off part of the outfield at Baker Bowl to put in folding chairs so they could sell more tickets. If a ball went under the rope it was a ground rule double. He claimed they lost two games because of that, and lost the Series 4-1 to the Boston Red Sox.
Like any Phillies fan, forty years later, he was still mad, but of course, he was still watching them.

Joe Deegan
by Joe from Philadelphia
submited on 5/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.8
93 Phils
Mitch Williams. Need I say more?
by Hugh from Philadelphia
submited on 5/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
"I'll walk back to Pittsburgh!"

For precision's sake, it'd be nice if I remembered the Pittsburgh announcer's name or even many of the Phillies that were involved in this game, but the uniqueness of the story is unchanged. I DO remember the incredulous sounds of Harry and Richie along with Andy Musser as they illustrated the game through the radio broadcast.

It was a summer in the early 90's, (perhaps late 80's), this Phillies team was the precursor to the loveable '93 dirtbags. The Fightins were playing their intrastate arch rivals, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Well, as teams were apt to due versus perrenially bad Philadelphia starting pitching, the Pirates jumped out to an unbelieveable 10 - 0 lead......after exactly one half inning of play.

It was at this time, evidently, unbeknownst to me since I was listening to the Phils' radio guys, that the Pittsburgh radio man declared, "If the Pirates lose this one, I'll walk back to Pittsburgh!" Well, BAM! Almost no sooner said than done because by the end of the game, the Phillies had overcome the massive deficit and had beaten the Pirates. Heh heh heh.

The Pirates' radio man who uttered that ill fated exclamation didn't walk back to Pittsburgh that evening, of course. However, he did organize a charity benefit later on that summer when he staged a walk from Philadelphia all the way back to Pittsburgh. Those Fightin Phils fight on.

by mike from savannah, georgia
submited on 5/29/2007
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Ave Rating:
6.41
First Love
I was 13-years-old in the summer of 1950. Just the right age to fall in love for the first time. The object of my affections? The incomparable Whiz Kids! I loved all of them, but Eddie Waitkus was a special favorite. He displayed such grace covering first base. My father was a knowledgeable baseball fan and a long suffering Phillies fan. The two of us spent many long hot 1950 summer days glued to our little black and white TV watching our beloved Phillies. On really special occasions, my father, mother, cousin Tommy and I piled into our old Plymouth and drove from Reading to Shibe Park to see a game in living color and excitement. What a thrill! And sometimes it was twice the thrill---a twi-night double header! Imagine the thrill of going to the World Series that year. We were the Whiz Kids, we had to win it all. But the Yankees cut short the glory in four games. The dream of winning the World Series died, but the love and everlasting hope did not. And the names from that tearm still echo down the halls of baseball history: Robin Roberts, Richie Ashburn, Jim Konstanty, Del Ennis, Eddie Waitkus, and on and on. The dream lives on with Howard, Utley, Rollins, Victorino, and all those now and in the future. by Diane from Telford, PA
submited on 5/28/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
Steve Carlton
Sometime in 1972, I'm driving on the expressway in a piece of S.... 1958 MGA coupe and traffic comes to a complete stop. The MGA overheats and I pull it over to the side of the road. I spent the next 2 hours sitiing on the roof listening (on a transistor radio, the car had none) to Steve Carlton pitch one of the best games of that memorable season. Like usual the last place Phillies didn't score any runs and Carlton had to win it for himself with a homerun.Unbelievable. He went 27-10, with a DECENT team he would have won 35 games. God I wish I still had that MGA. by John from Tampa
submited on 5/28/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Wow!

Wow!

First of all, I wish to thank and congratulate the people who built this website, I am sure that it will be deeply appreciated by all true Philadelphia sports fans. I'll go even farther than that: I'll go so far as to say that this web site is necessary for all true Philadelphia sports fans.

I begin - as several submissions before mine have - by describing a uniquely Philadelphian right of passage: my first trip to Connie Mack Stadium. In my case, it came on a Saturday afternoon when I was 7 years old when my father took me to see the Phillies play the Houston Colt45s. The journey meant taking the Broad Street C bus from near our house in West Oak Lane, getting off at Lehigh Avenue and walking (yes - walking!) 6 blocks down Lehigh Avenue to the stadium. I remember handing our tickets to one of the many blue-uniformed, grey-haired ticket takers, who tore the tickets and returned to us the stubs (the rain check! very important), then passing through one of the thick laquered wooden turnstiles, proceeding up flights of grimy concrete steps ... and finally thru a portal and comming into view of the most magnificent expanse of sun-drenched green grass that this city boy had ever seen. In those days of black-and-white television I had been mentally prepared for various shades of grey and white, and the impact of the vivid greens and browns of the field, and the white lines being set by the grounds keepers remains with me to this day; truly my first through-the-looking glass experience.

I don't even remember who won that game, I can't even remember following the action. I can remember only various images as they were generated: a foul ball landing in an empty row of seats a few feet to my right, which was instantly engulfed by a frenzied mob of teenage boys diving for the ball; a ball hit which seemed to go so high - far above the roof of the stadium - certainly a home run, I thought, and which many seconds later came back down to earth to be caught by an infielder. The nature of the distances of the game overcame me; something which could not be grasped watching at home on the black-and-white.

Most of all I remember my father buying for me a Philadelphia Phillies fan information packet, which included several glossy (black-and-white, of course) pictures of various players. They came to be my heroes. I especially remember Johnny Callison, who seemed so wonderfully youthful in his picture, almost a boy just like me. There were others as well - Don Demeter, Tony Gonzales, Reuben Amaro... I was hooked. And this journey became the first of many my father and I would make to Connie Mack together; the only thing that he I and did that was our special time together away from the rest of the family.

There was a night game against the San Francisco Giants when Juan Marichal took a no-hitter into the 5th inning. As I recall, we left that game after the 7th inning because I was tired, and after all it was a school night. We decided to take a cab home and of course the cabbie had the radio on and that is how we heard, while still on Lehigh Avenue, that Willie Mays - the first batter after we left the game - had hit a home run. In yet another game against the SF Giants, in another year, we were in the stands when Willie McCovey hit a ball which everyone in the park knew was a home run just as soon as he connected with it, and where the ball was still rising as it cleared the Connie Mack Stadium roof. The next morning's newspapers said the ball had travelled 550 feet, and I believe that number, although I still have no idea how that distance was calculated.

One year, my father rearranged his schedule just to take me to an afternoon game against the LA Dodgers, with Sandy Koufax pitching. To virtually all Jewish baseball fans, Koufax was The Hero, regardless of whether he played for another team, and going to see him pitch amounted almost to a religious obligation. Koufax baffled the Phillies that day, and to add insult to injury he even bunted for a single. I also remember another game, some years later, when Sandy was scheduled to pitch that evening against the Phillies. For a few brief moments that afternoon there was a sprinkle of rain over the City, something that ordinarilly nobody would have worried about. However, much to our Jewish amusement, the Phillies management immediately cancelled the evening game due to "wet grounds" and rescheduled the game as part of double-header to be played on Yom Kippur, when it was known that Koufax would not pitch. To the best of my knowledge, the Philadelphia Phillies have never before or after cancelled a game on account of wet grounds.

In a 1960s All-Star game at Shey Stadium (I can't remember the exact year), Johnny Callison hit a pinch-hit home run which won the game. I was at day camp at the time, and like so many other baseball events we all heard about it while listening on the umbiquitous transistor radio. I was with a group of boys and counselors in the changing room after a few hours of swimming and all dressing and drying activities stopped while we listened in complete silence to the announcer describe the at-bat, beginning with Callison in the on-deck circle, taking a ball, fouling off a pitch... The announcer was some national network announcer whom I'd never heard before, and I was not accustomed to his responses and mannerisms. And then the announcer in a calm emotionless voice described a line-drive to right field. A lack of emotion in the announcer's voice on an outfield drive usually amounted to an out, but in this case, the announcer's voice slowly became more and more emotional until finally he announced that the ball had cleared the right-field fence. Pandimonium in the day camp locker room! One of ours - maybe our hero, but a lowly pinch-hitting substitute in this All-Star game - had won it! The event was all the more magical for me because my hero Johnny Callison had done it on my birthday. What a wonderful omen it seemed.

The interesting thing about those years - the early 1960s - was that the Phillies were building a pretty good team. In addition to my heroes in the outfield, they also had in Bobby Wine at shortstop and Tony Taylor at 2nd base, what was quite simply the best double-play combination ever in the major leagues. Taylor-made double-plays they were called, and on the question that this was the best shortstop-2nd base combination in the history of baseball, I will entertain no argument nor tolerate any dissent. The Phillies will also in the process of building an impressive pitching rotation including Chris Short and Jim Bunning, he of the Fathers' Day, 1964 Perfect Game. And running the whole show was the adroit, cunning, all-knowedgeable baseball genius, Gene Mauch.

My father always insisted that Mauch was the best manager in the league. In fact, many years later on the occasion of Mauch's death, 1 knowledgeable baseball insider said that if they ever had a clinic on managing a baseball team and if all of the major league managers came, Gene Mauch would be teaching the clinic. Umpires consulted him on fine points of the rulebook - during the game no less. And let there be no doubt about it, Gene Mauch really was a managerial genius. And let the truth be known to all Phillies fans: the fact that the Phillies even made a run for the National League pennant (not a title, not the conference or league championship - The Pennant. Professional baseball is played for the purpose of wining Pennants) in 1964 with their under-powered team was precisely because of Mauch's management. And the collapse that we all know about finally came because this under-powered but brilliantly-managed team simply exhausted itself a few games before the end of the season.

Not that this reality makes me feel any better about what happened that year...

1964 was a wonderful year for me! I was 9 years old, in 4th grade which meant the upper division of our elementary school. I was now the owner of a shiny red Schwinn bicylce with gears and handbreaks - a definite sign of maturity compared to earlier pedal-breaked models. I had an allowance and I had household chores to perform in return for that allowance. All of these things were evidence that I was growing up, no longer a little punk but now a big guy, well on my way to adulthood, or at least to teenage-hood, which seemed to me the same thing.

The primary household chore I had to perform was to clear away the dinner dishes and prepare them for our newest household luxury, our dishwasher. Given that our dinner schedule generally terminated just about the time that the evening Phillies game started, this worked out quite well: I simply flipped on our kitchen transistor radio, tuned into By Saam announcing Philadelphia Phillies BaseBall time and went to work loading the dishwasher. So it was that I was able to listen to most of the season's home games and many of the eastern coast away games as well. West Coast games were a frustrating problem, first because I was asleep well before the 11PM starting time, and more significantly because the morning newpapers usually didn't even carry the score. "Philadelphia at LA, late" was all they had to say, and I would have to wait impatiently for the afternoon papers to fill me in on what had happened and update the standings.

My Phillies were winning that year. They started the year in 1st place, rarely drifted out of first place and by mid-season were beginning to assert an impressive lead over the rest of the National League. It all seemed to have come together: the pitching and the fielding and even a surprizingly high number of home runs (by Philadelphia standards, at least), mainly contributed by an exciting rookie by the name of Richie Allen (never "Dick Allen", you understand, always Richie). In spite of Richie Allen's power contribution, this was still a team that won games on defense and on Gene Mauch's late-inning substitutions. If you check out the results of the games Philly won that season, you'll see very few double-digit run totals and rarely was the margin of victory or loss greater than 2 or 3 runs. This was clearly a team that had figured out how to eek out a small lead and make it work. This was a team of pitching and defense and smarts and execution. The 1964 Phillies executed several triple plays that season, and in my general knowledge of the game a single triple-play in any season is rare enough. This was a team that a 9-year old boy could truly appreciate and identify with. Like me, they didn't have much power and, like me they made what they did have work. They were my team and I loved them.

In fact, as the summer progressed, the whole city game to love them with a collective spirit and enthusiasm that was obvious to me and that I'd never felt before. At any playground in the city there was always someone with a transistor radio tuned into the game, and wherever there was a radio there was a crowd of people - mostly young boys like myself - eagerly listening in on every pitch. Even if we didn't know each other - had never seen each other before and shared nothing else - there was a comraderie and a politeness around the radio as we all listened intently to our boys. There was even a song about our Phillies (I've searched the internet fruitlessly for the last 2 days trying to find the lyrics to that song without any success at all. If someone remembers that song about our Phillies and their winning ways, please post the lyrics to this website - I need to be able to sing that song again!). That song played increasingly on the radio as the summer progressed, and I sang along with it in joy as I rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher those summer evenings.

At some point late in the summer, probably late August, the newspapers began talking about something called the "Magic Number". The Magic Number was interesting because it would go down if the Phillies won, but it could also go down if one of the other teams still in the race lost. So the Magic Number might not go anywhere, but it could never go up. And when the Magic Number hit 0, that was heaven. That meant that the Phillies - my Phillies - had won the Pennant. And once we won the Pennant there was no stopping us: we were going to be Champions of the World. The previous year, the LA Dodgers had swept the hated New York Yankees in 4 games in the World Series (oh how we NL fans rejoiced!) and the Yankees now seemed little threat to our heroes. Winning the Pennant not only meant getting to the World Series, rather obviously it seemed, it also meant winning the damned thing. If there is anything to Philadelphia's reputation as a losers' city, it ultimately has to do with location. Situated halfway between the 2 great power cities of the world, Philadelphia sits on the river with not much besides a certain amount of history, a pretty good orchestra, a zoo and few good universities. And history and an orchestra don't get you very far these days. But now, we were on the verge of the kingdom! Everybody was about to look at us with envy. Courtesy of my Phillies, we were about to take our proper place in the country, if not the world. Everything just depended on the Magic Number. With growing excitement we watched as the Magic Number slowly ticked down, 1 tick at a time week by week, game by game. By the end of August, the Magic Number had migrated from the sports page to the front page. In Philadelphia in August and September 1964, at any given moment on any given day, everybody knew where Magic Number's number.

And then, with the Magic Number at 2 (2 for heavens' sake!), it stopped.

"Who won last night?" , I asked my father one morning at breakfast.

"Cincinatti, 1 nothing", my father answered, "one of their guys stole home in extra innings."

I'd always thought that stealing home was an interesting proposition. I knew that a few of the great players had done it - Jackie Robinson had stolen home; Willie Mays had stolen home. The concept didn't make sense to me - I did not and to this day do not understand how someone could outrun a pitch to home plate. But OK, these things happened. Someone had beaten my Phillies by stealing home. There were plenty of games left to make up for that one little fluke.

I've often wondered if that fluky theft of home somehow knocked the wind out of the Phillies sails, if losing that 1 game in such a strange manner somehow amounted to a kick in the groin which robbed my guys of all their confidence or somehow else brought an over-performing team back to reality. All I know is exactly what everyone else reading this website knows: that the theft of home was the beginning of disaster. The Reds swept the next 2 games from the Philles and the Magic Number remained stalled. After the Reds came the Braves and I had a horrible sense of forboding. The Milwaukee Braves always seemed to do bad things to my Phillies and I knew - I just knew! - that the Braves were going to violate the Phillies, they were going to abuse them and kick them while they were down. And that is exactly what happened. The Braves mowed the Phillies down in 4 straight games, the last of which was a 14-run humiliation which left us all gasping for air. Next came the Cardinals, who'd made a mid-season trade for a young speed merchant named Lew Brock and on the strength of that trade had made a furious run up the standings.

Even before the first St. Louis game it was over. I knew. I think we all knew it. My father was silent. The song about how we loved our Phillies with their winning ways had vanished from the airwaves. Our pennant was lost - it just was not going to happen. I'd stopped listening to transistor radios by then. I think it had become too painful. I watched it all with a sense of hopelessness and frustation, faced for the first time in my life with the reality that I could do nothing. By the final week of the season I was in total emotional collapse. I had a 100-degree fever and could not get out of bed. The fact that the Phillies managed to win the last 2 games of the season was of little comfort. It was too little, too late. We'd lost. We'd lost it all.

The Choke, or The Collapse as many Philadelphians know it, is an established part of this City's sports history, possibly the central piece (dare I say the keystone?) of that history. Older Philadelphians, I'm sure, moved beyond it, as life finally did continue. After all, compared to things like the Depression and the2nd World War it really wasn't that horrible. Younger Philadelphians, or those not yet born, were too young to experience it and know it simply as a part of our history, a uniquely Philadelphian part of the 60s, along with the Assassinations, Vietname, bad acid trips and whatever other assorted traumas we collectively endured.

But what The Choke did to the psyche of a 9-year old boy is almost too difficult - and to this day - to painful to describe. The Choke is my original fall from grace, the great emotional Wound from which I have never completely recovered and which, in my struggle to escape it has doomed me to repeat it any number of times. In my own high school sports career, in academics, in my professional career and in romantic pursuits (oh please, do not get me started on that!) it seems that I have been doomed repeatedly to come so close to the prize and then in the final moments stumble inexplicably to failure.

My life since The Choke has taken me far from Philadelphia. I went off to college in the Midwest, after college followed the high-tech wave to California, and eventually followed yet a later high-tech wave to Israel, where I have now settled down, married and am raising a family. My Israeli-born wife, posessed of wonderfully loving heart, has absolutely no understanding why I have insisted on ignoring our family for the last 2 evenings while focusing all of my energy on this offering to the Celebrate10000 website.

But wherever I have lived, I've not lost my connection to Philadelphia sports. I will continue to get up at 3AM to watch Monday Night Football whenever the Eagles are playing. I will (again) endure major sleep deprivation when the Sixers go deep in the NBA playoffs. On the day that L-10000 comes I will join all of you in a long-distance toast to all that is uniquely sad, special and wonderful about being a Philadelphia professional sports fan.

And on those rare and precious years when the Philies make a run for the Pennant, I will once again become that 9-year old boy, not yet fallen and not yet wounded, who's heart has not yet been broken.


by Morrie from Herzlya, ISRAEL
submited on 5/27/2007
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Ave Rating:
1
Why do they have to win to be loved?

I am 52 years of age and have loved the Phillies since I was a child growing up in Pittsburgh. That's right, Pittsburgh! Why the Phillies? I really don't know. Perhaps because I took a bus to Forbes Field and they were playing the Pirates, but it is and has been the Phillies for me since childhood.

Although I was fortunate enough to live in Phoenixville for a few years, I now live in Alabama. I travel all over the country, as my finances permit, to see my favorite team. I was there in 1980 at game 6, and have been treated kindly by the Phillies brass when I was introduced to them by a receptionist that I told how often I travel to see the team.

To me, a TRUE fan, loves his/her team regardless, just as we love our kids when they fail. Certainly, I wish hard for a winning season, but I am a realist and understand that only ONE team will take it all. Usually the team that spends the most money. Is that real sportsmanship? I don't think so.

We are left with this. Either we really love this team, whoever makes up the team at the time, or we are just egotistical enough to only feel good when our team is the best. I enjoy rooting for this team and will continue to root for this team. I won't be wearing a 10,000 losses shirt, that to me is akin to mocking my child for not achieving what someone else has, especially if I had not equipped that child with the talent, i.e., education to succeed in the same manner as those IVY league kids did. Baseball is a business and the "winners" have the most talent because their players were purchased from teams that could not afford to keep their tehm, once they achieved notoriety. Winning doesn't make these teams great! It simply means they had the means to buy the winning players. How many great players does the Yankees bring up in their farm system?

To me, it is the Phillies, win OR lose!

by Larry from Birmingham
submited on 5/26/2007
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Ave Rating:
5
Indiana Philly Phan

Trying to describe what it's like to be a Philly sports fan (being born-and-raised in Indiana) is a lot harder for me to do then to explain why I'm a Philly sports fan (dad born-and-raised across the Whitman Bridge in Jersey). I sum it up with a story about an Eagles/Cowboys game on MNF in 1996 or 1997. Philly was lining up for a chip-shot FG to win, and I buried my head in my hands, unable to watch. One of my buddies asked why I wasn't watching and I told him that, as a Philly fan, and was conditioned to expect the worst. He laughed and called me an idiot. When the chip-shot FG was completely screwed up and Dallas won, I looked up, then turned and looked at him, and he gave me that "Wow, I completely understand now" look.

I was born in 1972 so about the time I was becoming aware of my surroundings and just how much I loved baseball, the Philluies were an NL East powerhouse, and because of that they were on the NBC saturday game of the week quite often. Some of my earliest memories of Phillies baseball were of watching those Saturday games with my dad, in '78. '79, and '80. I remember watching the WS in 1980, and telling my dad I hoped they (the Phillies) would lose when he had to discipline me for something. I then ran off to my room in tears, because I definitely didn't want them to lose.

My first Phillies game was just after the strike in 1981 ended. I remember seeing weeds/grass nearly knee-high in The Vet parking lot. Unfortunately I also remember seeing George Hendrick use the black tarp as target practice 3 times during that game. My BEST live baseball memory was watching Carlton and Ryan duel at The Vet.

Now that I'm a dad myself, I'm doing my best to pass on the misery of being a Phillies fan to my two-and-a-half (one is "in the oven") kids. I took my daughter to her first baseball game in Cincy in September of 2005, and the first ever batter she saw at a live game was Jimmy Rollins in the midst of his epic hitting streak...and he hit the first pitch he saw for a HR. Ryan Howard later homered...I couldn't have asked for a better Phillies experience for her. Oh, and my wife...she was born-and-raised in Indiana, too. A few years after we were married I was looking through some of her old family pictures and I found one of her, at age 8, in a Phillies baseball jacket. I was floored, thinking about the irony of it all.

I've been telling people for years, especially those annoying Cubs fans around me, that the Phillies are the worst team in the history of professional sports. But despite the efforts of Mitch Williams, despite what those damn Orioles did to my heart in 1983, despite the horrendously lean years from '84-92, despite the fact that this franchise had toyed with me the last five years...despite all of that, I am forever a Phillies fan. Every spring sparks hope eternal, that this might be the year Philadelphia get back to The Promised Land. But even if they again fall short (or flat), I could never, ever, turn my back on my lifelong love. Guess I'm a glutton for punishment! And one more thing....Joe Carter is a jackass (I swear, that was not a personal attack, only a form of therapy).

by J.Dan from Carmel, IN
submited on 5/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
1
I raised a New York fan
My story is a simple one. While I was born and raised in Philadelphia. Watched the the 70's with great pride and celebrated our success, my son was born in 1993 and has seen such little success that he has become a Yankees, Lakers & Devils fan. In that small window of 10 years, he has withnessed his 3 teams win 10 CHAMPIONSHIPS!! We have little hope here and it is our resove as Philadelphians to keep it going because when that day finally comes, boy what a party it will be!!!
by Mitchell from Marlton
submited on 5/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Gotta Love Them Phillies

I am a long time Phillies fan.Ihad just had my eyes opened to tem during the 1980 season when I was 10 years old. I am grateful that I got to see them win a World Series, at the time I did'nt realize it would be so long in getting another title.Imean we were there in 1983 so I was like oh well.Then there is nothing for 10 years.

During spring training in 1993 I had to agree with several baseball magazines that picked the Phils to finish first in the division.I even made a 100. bet with my boss and I won. I loved that year. I watched or listened to almost every game that year and I was working overnights at the time.Even though we lost to Toronto, we did beat the team that was supposed to be the best in baseball Atlanta that is.

One very fond memory of mine is when three of my friends and I went to see the Phillies take on the Dodgers . Hideo Nomo was a hot rookie that year and he started.We rocked his world by winning by a score of 18-6 or 18-7.Greg Jeffries had hit for the cycle in that game and our starting pitcher Jeff Juden hit a grand-slam.What a game.I seems like it was only yesterday not 12 years ago.Unfortunatlly two of my friends at the game with me that day are not here today to celebrat 10,000.

by Jeffrey from Conshohocken,Pa
submited on 5/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
My fave moments

We all remember Joe Carter. I'd rather wear an "I Love Sherman" shirt in Georgia than mention Carter's name on Broad Street. The day after the Phils lost that game, I suddenly started suffering from unexplained abdominal cramps. It was really killing me.

My father was stationed at Ft. Stewart, GA at the time, so I had to be taken to the Army hospital there, where the doc checked me for appendicitis. You all know how that "test" is done, right? I remember telling the Army doc, "this is just LOVELY... that's the second time in 24 hours!"

Then there's the Eagles. I've only ever been able to go to one game, back in 2003. My father gave me two tickets as a birthday present, and I took my brother. For the game I was to go to, the Eagles were on a TEN GAME WINNING STREAK and were hosting San Francisco, a perrenial push-over. My brother and I were thinking, "oh, good, we won't have any trouble here. We've got the momentum, we've got the talent, we've got the home field, and San Fran doesn't have squat."

So what happened? The Eagles jumped on top quick, surrendered the lead, jumped back on top, surrendered the lead again, and lost. San Fransico's QB that day: Jeff Garcia.

by Mike AKA "Red" from Scranton
submited on 5/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
6
No Place Like Philly
I am 31 years old and don't remember the 1983 sixers parade, I was too young. The reason I'm still a Philly Phan. Maybe it's those late nights I spent with my older brother as a child listening to the magical voices of Harry Kalas and Richie Ashburn on the radio. Maybe it's no matter how bad things are in your would that day or that week or that month, an Eagles win heals it, even if it is for a little while. Maybe it's taking a look at a cowboys, rangers, or a yankees fans and wanting to pelt him with a snowball. Maybe it's that time I can remember having 60 people in my living room all rabid, crazy family and friends putting their emotions out 130% on every play. Maybe it's having my brother on speaker phone in Tennessee as the Eagles are about to win the NFC Championship. Maybe it's him coming home from Tennessee and walking into a Wawa and talking to total strangers about the upcoming game and watching that Philadelphia brotherhood beam to the skies. Maybe it's half my family who are electricians for Local 98 helping build those cathedrals our teams call home. Maybe it's 70,000 Phans singing the Eagles fight song as 1 loud voice. Maybe its the memories of all those tailgates. Maybe it's the memory of your father taking you to your first game at Connie Mack, or The Vet, or CBP. Maybe it's the memory of your father sharing that first beer with you at one of those games. Maybe it's the perverse joy we get out of booing the hell out of our teams when they suck so bad. Could it be possible that the losing is what brings us closer and closer together. Maybe it's the stories you share to all your friends about the fights in the 700 level. Maybe it's the pain we saw in Mitch William's face on that fatefull night in 1993, and the subsequent pain we felt in our hearts. Maybe it's the memories of going to see the Phillies in Baltimore and watching a sea of red Phillie Phans take over an entire city. Only a Philly Phan not a player will understand why we do Eagles chants at a Phillies game. In the end, there isn't a place like Philly in the world. There aren't and fans in the world Like Philly Phans. You have to be from Philly to understand Philly. I love you Philadelphia. I was born here and I will die here and I will be buried in my Eagle green, my Phillies watch, my lucky flyers towel and my autographed Sixers basketball. With all of these memories, who wouldn't want to be a Philly Phan. So I say congratulation Phillies on 10,000 losses. by Mark from Levittown PA
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.25
Love the Sillies!
I don't know why I love this team so much, but I do know that I can't give up on them no matter what. This past Christmas, my girlfriend surprised me with a gift of round-trip plane tickets to Florida and tickets to the phillies-Yankees game on St. Patty's day, to check out a little spring training action. As the date approached and my excitement grew I couldn't wait to get on that plane and be in Florida for some spring ball. It was beautiful all week, the nicest week of the winter in Philadelphia, and the forecast in Clearwater was even better. Then the bomb dropped. It snowed all day long on Friday and our flight that afternoon to Florida, the day before the game was cancelled! We got the news at 1:00 pm that afternoon and were devestated. We looked at each other and smiled becuase we both knew what we were going to do. We put our bags in our car, took our dog to my mom's house and drove all throught the night, over 1,000 miles to Clearwater, Florida! We made it on little sleep, with only a half-hour to spare, but we finally made it to spring training! The trip was worth it and I wouldn't have changed a thing about it. That is the type of dedication that Philadelphia sports fans have and why when things go wrong we find a way to deal with it. We are so used to things not going our way with our teams in this city that they only make us stronger and more able to deal with unforseen circumstances. LETS GO! by Jeff from Philadelphia
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
5
Two Gentlemen of Baseball

I was born several hundred yards from what is now the heart of Philly sports at the Philadelphia Naval Hospital. The Navy Hospital, long since demolished, was located a couple of blocks down the street from the also long gone JFK. Like all true Phans, I have suffered with the Eagles, endured seasons of disappointment with the Flyers, endured the soap opera that is the Sixers and, of course, lamented year after year the inability of the Phils to win enough games to make the playoffs, and still; every year I begin to think “Perhaps”. I think it is inbred, genetic though maybe there is something in the wuder.

I am old enough to remember the Eagles first losing trip to the Superbowl, seeing the last championship that the Sixers won, the Flyers Stanley cup years, and the World Series Phils. It was a long time ago. But there is something in this blue collar, work-a-day city that refuses to quit. Perhaps that why Rocky rings so true to us. Like the song says “In the warrior heart there’s no surrender. Though his body says ‘Stop’ his spirit cries ‘Never!’”

The biggest heartbreaker? It’s hard to pick one – perhaps it’s THE “home run” during the Blue Jays Series, the last Superbowl trip or the day that the Tugger lost his battle. But I think the biggest one was the day we no longer were able to enjoy the wonderful commentary of Harry and Richie. They understood, like no one else, the heart of this city. And while Harry the K carries on admirably, there was nothing like listening to those two gentlemen of baseball –I don’t think we will see their likes again anytime soon.

by Andee from Lancaster, PA
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
5
Why is Uncle Bob crying?

Why is Uncle Bob crying? I'm told I asked my father this question when I was barely six years old. I vaguely recall it, in much the way we all do early traumatic experiences. I've since lived in upstate New York, Northern California, and Washington DC, and never stopped being a phan. I'm still proud of being part of the Phillies' diaspora despite the taunts and ridicule of those Giants, Mets, Yankees, and Nats fans that surround me. I follow every day, including during the offseason (when hope springs eternal). The Phillies, like a scar that reminds me of pain that brings a smile, will be with me until I die.

Yes, Uncle Bob was balling that day. And my family, including his wife, was laughing at him. I didn't understand when they explained why. I had become a phan that year because I went to my first Phillies game (a loss) a few months earlier. Now four unused tickets to the Fall Classic sit framed on my desk. They are a reminder of life's trials, yet a statement of loyalty. They symbolize the affliction I contracted when Uncle Bob cried ... on September 30, 1964.

Rock on, Phillies!

by Bill from Stockton, CA
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.75
Why I still follow the Phils

I'm 28. I was 4 when the Phils went to the '83 Series, and my mind began recording memories when I was 5. So I've only experienced 1 playoff appearance and 7 winning seasons my whole life. I know that I haven't suffered like my father, who's 61 and also had to endure the teams of the 50s, 60s, and early 70s. But, as I like to remind him, at least he experienced the Ruly Carpenter Glory Years during his prime. The future holds no such guarantee for me.

I like to joke that I still follow the Phils because I'm a sucker for pain. But the reality is that I don't know anything else. I'm a native Philadelphian. I love this city. I love baseball. Who else am I going to root for?

But at a deeper level, I still follow the Phils because that's what my father taught me to do. Following the Phils is a learned value, passed on from father to son, the same as truth-telling, self-sacrifice, and personal conduct. Being Phillies fans (despite our dissatisfaction) is part of who we both are. It's a tangible connection between us no different than a similar-looking chin or a shared temper. I admit that words like these sound sappy, especially coming from a weary Phillies fan. But you know what? Each year, the more I think about them, the more I realize they're true.

by Matthew from Norristown
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.6
Bonds, Bottalico, and Brawls

I grew up in Scranton, PA, so I didn't get to see the Phillies in person that often. My first Phillies game was August 2, 1998 against the San Francisco Giants. The Giants won the game by the slim margin of 15-3, but that was not the real story. In the 4th inning, with the Giants up 7-1, Barry Bonds, who already hit a HR in the game, proceeds to steal 2nd base much to the dismay of the Phillies. The next time Bonds came to the plate, Ricky Bottalico plunked him in between the 2 and the 5. Bonds charged the mound, and a bench-clearing brawl ensued. The next inning, Giants pitcher Kirk Rueter plunked Alex Arias (of all people) and another bench-clearing brawl ensued.

This was sadly the best experience I ever had at a Phillies game.

CELEBRATE 10,000!

by Dave from Scranton, PA
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.5
1980 World Champions

In 1980, I was 21 years old. I didn't understand the enormity of the Phillies playing for the World Series title. Back then, people stood in long lines (and apparently overnight) to buy tickets to special events. Since I had never attempted to buy tickets to a concert (of any kind), I didn't know what lay ahead for me.

The Phillies announced that tickets for the World Series were to go on sale at a certain time. I naively told my father to wake me up at 7AM because I was going to go down to the stadium and get tickets. He woke me up at 5:30AM and told me that KYW (local station) noted that thousands of people were already in line. I quickly dressed and headed down by myself.

Much to my surprise, I joined a line that was already more than 3/4 of the way around the stadium. Now this was Veteran's Stadium and it was quite large. I took my place in line and over time made small talk with the people around me. After what seemed like hours, I asked someone to hold my place and I'd go see why we weren't moving.

When I arrived at what was supposed to be the front of the line, there was utter chaos. The line became a mass of people all pushing and shoving to get into the funnel area the Philadelphia police created to reestablish the line. I thought that this was ridiculous and there was no way I'd ever get tickets.

Fortunately, I heard someone call my name and it turned out to be a good friend. I began talking to him and telling him my saga and where I stood in line and got "sucked" into the mass. My friend told me to just blend in and I did. We both got to the windows and when it was my turn I was told that games 1 and 2 were sold out and I only had a choice of games 6 or 7.

I chose game 6, got 4 tickets, took my dad and a couple friends. I saw the series clinching game with my dad. It is a moment I'll remember for a long time. Phillies winning the World Series........I get to see it.......and my dad is with me.

by George from Philadelphia
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
May 23, 2007

As we quickly approach the big 10,000, and even though they have yet to lose this game, I think the game on this date is very significant. 4 run lead in the ninth inning and all is well. But then again this is the Phillies. Plenty of bone head plays will eventually cost the Phillies this game. If it doesn't happen very soon, it will happen. It is unfortunate as they have the stuff and the team to win so many games. I have been a die hard fan of the Phils since the day I was born. I was all of 2 months old when the Phillies won their first and only world series, and I have been a dedicated follower ever since.

Three years ago I left my lifetime residence in South Jersey and relocated to Cleveland, OH. (quite possibly the second most unfortunate city in sports) I have closely followed all Philadelphia sports here using bars and computers. (not to mention lots of money) The heartbreak is there every year and I am now used to it but it never gets any easier.

As this game started I was looking foward to a return to the mediocre .500. But I knew in the back of my heart that a 4 run lead was not enough. As the game heads into extra innings I look foward to a dramatic win, but will still have the skepticism of the inevitable loss. I would like to congratulate the Phillies on loss 9,980. I hope you prove me wrong.

Good luck getting to 10,000. Try to delay it as long as possible.

by Jeff from Maple Heights, OH
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
My first game

The year is 1964. I am 7 years old and I have never been to a Phillies game. Like everyone else in my neighborhood my Dad is griped by pennant fever. He has purchased his world series tickets and is ready for the Phillies to return to the world series for the first time since 1950. I bug my dad every day to take me to a ball game. Finally he agrees and off we go to Connie Mack stadium. The date is September 21, 1964 and the Reds are in town. Most old timers will remember the date. Chico Ruiz steals home in the 6th inning and the Phillies lose 1-0. It is the first of 10 straight losses that leaves the home team in 2nd place and out of the series. Phillies fans will not sniff the post season again until 1976. The next day my dad is public enemy number one. How could he bring a jinx to the game? Nobody will even talk to me. The next time I get to a ball game it is 1969 (the Phils lose again). It do not witness in person a Phils win until my 10th game when the Phils split a double header. My winning percentage has not improved that much over time but I still hold out hope that one day I will be there lucky charm.

by Lex from Upper Darby
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
1.33
Nails.

94 was the year that ended my love of baseball. If you recall, we suffered a horrible loss in the world series to Toronto Blue Jays. Joe Carter got the glory for his game 6 blast to win, and Mitch 'wild thing' Williams became our most recent sports pariah, but i recall Nails. Lenny Nails Dykstra was the leader on the team. He played with such reckless abandon that you couldnt help route for him. He was the Pete Rose of 1993. He had a sick series with a number of homeruns that were memorable in addition to that hustle. But thats not what i remember. I remember this:

"I wanna get me a Dyksta haircut, totally shaved on the side of my head,

when i get me a dyksta haircut, the girls will go crazy tryin to get me in bed"

That little jingle ruled the radio during the summer of 93. I was 12 and i love it. Then the sport got greedy and the strike of 94 sold me on the eagles for good.

by Zig from New York
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
1
Two words...
Black Friday by George from Eagleville, PA
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
The Unexpected Magical 93 Season

In 1993 I was 15 years old and deep into my love for the game of baseball and the Phillies. After coming off a 70 win last place finish in 1992 there were minimal expectations for 1993. My father, uncles, cousins, etc. in April were complaining about pitching, managing, the front office as we normally do. But these Phillies got off to a fast start. By mid-summer this was clearly the most exciting team in baseball. I remember wherever we went the Phillies and Harry was on the car radio. Once they clinched a playoff spot in early fall my neighbor and I (who happens to be the same age) created a sign that read "Honk If you Love the Phillies". We posted this 42in X 42in sign on a busy neighborhood street on my neighbor's property for cars to see. For a little over three weeks my neighbor's grandfather who lived with the family heard constant honks during the day and at night my neighbor's parents said they could hear cars honking at all hours of the night. One day they let us know that this was happening and we apologized. We thought the sign was going to be gone but when we went out to see my neighbors father had secured the sign better to the tree where we originally taped. They understood the importance of the sign to us and also understood the important of the time. As much as Philadelphia fans show the agony of defeat we will also show WHEN it comes the thrill of victory. I have lived and traveled to several cities since my youth in Philadelphia and no other city comes together like we do when the sports teams are winning.

by Chris from Crofton, MD
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
The Phillies From A Distance

Most of the stories I've read come from people who grew up in or around Philly and grew up loving and hating the Phils. I'm actually from Southern Virginia. My dad was from Wilmington Delaware and a lifelong Phillies Phan. When the Phils won the World Series, I was only 6, but I got to see the Phillies play the Expos toward the end of the season at the Vet. We sat in RF. Bake McBride hit a homerun to win the game. Everyone stood up in front of me going crazy, so the only thing I could see was the Phanovision with the image of a potato opening up and steam coming out with the phrase, "Bake Tater!!"

My dad and I would listen to the Philles at night on 1210WCAU. We could only get them on clear nights and we'd sit outside and listen for hours. Thats really how I learned the game. I loved Harry's voice and I would stand up and imitate the players as they batted. I knew what they looked like from watching them play the Braves. Thats was the only time I got to see them on TV for the most part. I would get so amped up when they came on TV and I would watch every second of it because I got to see them so little. If they lost I would be heartbroken. I was heartbroken alot. Listening to the Phils on WCAU is my fondest memory. I would fall asleep at night to the fading voice of Harry and the crackling static of lightning in the atmosphere somewhere. I remember listening to Mike Schmidt break up a Nolan Ryan no-hitter in the 9th inning one of those years.

I was lucky because my dad took me up to see the Phillies play many times and I fell in love with the Phillies and the Vet. I was there when Von Hayes hit a Father's Day home run to win the game. Right after the game the Phils traded Juan Samuel to the Mets for Dykstra and Roger McDowell. I saw Charlie Hayes hit a home run to beat the Braves. I was in attendance on Mike Schmidt night. I saw Robert Person hit two homer runs in a game. I saw alot of good baseball and alot of bad baseball......but as long as it was the Phillies I was content. How can you hate a team and love them so much at the same time? I compare it to drug addiction. My wife asks me all the time, "Why don't you just stop rooting for them?" I tell her I want to, but I can't stop. I know how that heroin addict on the street corner feels. You know that it's bad for you and it's killing you, but you just can't stop. Is there Phillies rehab??

I have a 2 year old son. He loves baseball and already recognizes the difference between a Phillies hat/jersey and another team. He loves the Phillies too. I live in South Carolina now, and part of me wishes he would like the Braves. It has to be more fun.....but in my heart of hearts I hope he's a die hard Phils Phan just like me and my dad. Go Phils!

by Gavin from Spartanburg,SC
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
fly eagles fly

The weekend of super bowl XXIX was suppose to be the best weekend of my life. The Thursday before the big show was my 21st Birthday. Therefore the days leading up to Super Sunday consisted of binge drinking and strippers not to mention again but Sunday was going to be the biggest sporting event of my life.

Obviously Joe Carter ruined my child hood back in 93 when I was 9 and the Red Wings took down my Flyers with ease and AI and the Sixers gave me alot of hope stealing one in LA just to loose the rest so the Eagles in the bowl was going to be my day especially since it was my birthday weekend. Since it took the Eagles its 4th try to get to the bowl it made it hype cause who wants to be the buffalo bills of the NFC championship game?

Eveything was hyped that day leading up to the evening game, my friends and I rented out a hall and rented several big screen tvs and had about 200 people show up to our super bowl party.

Everything was going great but of course being from Philly i knew something was going to happen against the eagles and of course it did. after being tied after 3 quarters damn Brady and the pats took the lead by 10 and DMac and the philly curse had been hit, the TD to Greg Lewis made it somewhat better since the eagles were 7 point dogs that made many cover the spread but once we had the ball and had to use our hurry up Offense thats when the curse hit or someone ate too much chunky campells soup before the game. so i dont know if its a philly curse since philly has won championships before or it could be the curse of my generation whomever born in 1984 is just bad luck so sorry philly for being born this year.

I just hope the birds can return to the bowl this upcoming year since the Super Bowl will be on February 3rd the day i was born and maybe the curse can be broken unless my phighting phils can pick their bats up and start streaking and do it beforehand either way just please give me a championship i cant be celebrating loses its like cheering for the kixx or phantoms

by jake from Philadelphia/Lansdale
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
The loss that I'll remember the most.
The loss that I'll remember the most is one that does not even count towards the 10000 total. The moment in that loss when Joe Carter connected with that Mitch Williams fastball, I knew instantly it was gone and the season was over. I didnt even need to watch the shot of it going over the outfield wall.. That was the most crushing moment I have ever experienced as a Phillies fan.
by george from pittsburgh
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Aug 15, 1990
The Phillies were in the midst of another mediocre season in 1990. Decent enough offense (considering Dickie Thon was the starting SS), no pitching (considering Pat Combs was the "best" starter). One of those seasons where if things had broken right, they maybe could have contended. There was some excitement when Dale Murphy came over during the season, but it quickly waned into the familiar doldrums.

This being the Phillies, things largely didn't break right, and they languished in 4th. Although the Phillies have had plenty of awful seasons, it's those seasons where it looks like they have a shot, but then just fail that are the hardest to take. And that seems to be the norm over the last 20 or so years.

So, by August 15, the Pirates had mostly run away with it, and the Phils were done. Another season to wait until spring. Except of course, Terry Mulholland threw a no-hitter that day. I remember joking to my dad in the 3rd that he was 1/3 of the way there.

I don't think I ever experienced a more exciting game than this one. Charlie Hayes getting booed for his error, and then cheered heroically for making a lunging stab to finish it off. During all those lean years at the Vet, you forget how loud and raucus that place could get with 50,000 people in it.

It was a fun game, and a hopeful game. Then reality set in for the next 2 seasons.
by Adam from Harrisburg
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Why I'm a Philly Phan
My dad took me to see my first Phillies game when I was just about to turn nine years old; it was the summer of ‘63 and the Phillies lost to the Dodgers at Connie Mack, 6 - 1. It was a humid, cloudy day, and a particularly uninspiring game. Cookie Rojas dropped an easy pop fly at shortstop – it just popped out of his glove. Unfortunately, that got me hooked. Of course, the following year it was easy to be a Phillies fan – until the last eleven games of the season. I’m a blessed man: I have a beautiful, wonderful wife, three great kids, a great family, a decent and rewarding job, a nice place to live. So, I root for the Phillies, Eagles, Sixers and Flyers to put some heartache in my life. by Mike from Schooleys Mountain
submited on 5/23/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
1950 The Magical Year for Phils and Jim Konstanty

Memories tend to fade after 57 years, especially when they begin In the mind of a highly imaginative 15 year old avid Phillies fan. The Phillies started the 1950 baseball season with a new manager, Eddie Sawyer, a new Radio announcer – Gene Kelly and a new feeling that with their mix of youth and veterans they could beat out the New York Giants and St. Louis Cardinals. They might even throw a scare into the Brooklyn Dodgers. But, nobody outside of the organization thought the Phils had a chance to actually beat the Dodgers. Here is a position by position comparison of the Phils typical starting eight players against that of the Dodgers.

Phillies

Position

Dodgers

Eddie Waitkus

1st Base

Gil Hodges

Mike Goliat

2nd Base

Jackie Robinson

Puddin Head Jones

3rd Base

Billy Cox

Granny Hamner

Shortstop

Pee Wee Reese

Dick Sisler

Left Field

Gene Hermanski

Richie Ashburn

Center Field

Duke Snyder

Del Ennis

Right Field

Carl Furillo

Andy Seminick

Catcher

Roy Campanella

The 1950 Dodgers had four Hall of Fame players (Robinson; Reese; Snyder and Campanella) and two others who were given serious consideration by Hall voters (Hodges and Furillo).

The Phillies had no business beating that team but it was a magical year and perhaps the most magical aspect of all was the performance of a 33 year old pitcher with an undistinguished minor league career. His name was Jim Konstanty and in 1950 he was not only voted onto the National League All-Star Team, he was also voted the Most Valuable Player in the National League by a substantial margin over Stan Musial. Konstanty had 18 first place votes against 1 for Musial and he had 286 points versus Musial’s 158.

The thing I remember most about that year was how frequently the Phils fell behind and the opposing team would have a rally going in the sixth or seventh inning. It seemed like there were always two or three men on base and no outs when Konstanty came in to put out the fire. The miracle was the very high percentage when no runs scored. He often stayed in the game and got the win when the Phils rallied in the eighth or ninth inning to win the game on a clutch hit by one of the unknown players the Phils had on their bench.

The key to Konstanty’s success was a brand new pitch that he worked on with an Undertaker friend from upstate New York. It was a pitch they called the “Slider”. Apparently, none of the other pitchers in either league through the pitch because the way the batters lunged at the pitch they must have never seen it before. The "slider" has become very popular since 1950, but Jim Konstanty may have been the first to throw it in the major leagues.

To my surprise and a lot of others, the Phillies did beat the Dodgers that year but not until the final day of the season in a game played at Ebbit’s Field in Brooklyn. It was Robin Roberts against Don Newcomb for all the marbles. Dick Sisler hit a home run in the top of the 10th inning to give the Phils a lead that Robin Roberts protected brilliantly.

The World Series started a couple of days later and Roberts was not able pitch the opener because he had pitched three times in the final five days of the regular season. So, in a surprise move the Phil’s started Jim Konstanty in game one of the World Series. Konstanty pitched great and held the Yankees to one run on four hits , but Yankee great Vic Raschi shut the Phils out on two hits for the win.

Here are some of Konstanty’s statistics from 1950:

Wins

16

Losses

7

Games

74

Games Finished

62

Games Saved

22

Innings Pitched

152.0

Hits Allowed

108

Runs Allowed

51

Earned Runs

45

Home Runs Allowed

11

Walks Allowed

50

Strike outs

56

Earned Run Avg.

2.66

by John J. from Philadelphia
submited on 5/22/2007
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Ave Rating:
7.41
Phillies in First Place
When I was 7 my father called me in to see him in the living room where he read the Evening Bulletin. He said "Look at this" and pointed to the National League standings on the front page of the sports section. It listed the Phillies in first place. It was the day after opening day and the Phils were tied with half the league for first with a 1 and 0 record. My Dad said "See that? That's the last time you'll see them there all year" He's still right, except sometimes they don't win on opening day. by Ralph from Havertown
submited on 5/17/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.69
My Life

I am 25, about to turn 26 in two weeks. The only championship I was alive for was the sixers in 83. I was 1 1/2 years old. I dont remember. So realistically, I have yet to experience the joy of winning a real championship in this city. How the eagles didnt make a superbowl with randall and that defense I'll never know. Every year, every team, "its our year". What happens, we either have a great regular season, and blow it in the playoffs. Or we stuggle during the regular season, only to make a run at the end, and then mess it up in the final week. The good memories are few and far between. The heartbreaks and frustration happen every year. Now i know most of you are thinking that I'm still young and havent lived long enough to complain. You older phans have a least some childhood memories of the flyers winning a couple of cups, the sixers fighting with the celts and the lakers in the early 80's, and the phillies in the early 80's as well.

I have nothing to show for it. I work in northern jersey, surrounded by Mets and Yankees fans, Knicks and Nets fans, Giants and Jets fans, and even Devils, Rangers and Islanders fans. They win every argument, because they have seen their teams at the top of the world, champions.

The state of every team right now is horrible. The sixers are a joke, the eagles will win the division but lose in the playoffs, the flyers are rebuilding, and the phillies have amazing talent that is being wasted by horrible management and crappy bullpen pitching. Philly is the king of minor league/unimportant team championships. The phantoms, kixx, wings, all have won "championships" But the big league clubs can figure it out.

I hate being so negative, but this city will do it to you. But then again, at the start of every season i have hope, hope that this will be the season that we break the so called curse of william penn, and party down broad street. I will say that when it eventually happens, this city will not be the same. The LA riots will look like jaywalking compared to the carnage this city will endure.

One of these years I will be crying tears of joy at the end of a season, and 25+ years of frustration will finally be lifted.

by Ryan from Eagleville
submited on 5/8/2007
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Ave Rating:
6.3
Damn Phillies

This little story is about my great-grandfather.
Pop and his “Damn Phillies”

If you are looking for the classic example of a true Phillies fan, Pop is a perfect fit. In many ways, he (my great-grandfather), and I are very much alike. We both love the Phillies, and we both get pissed off when they lose.

Every so often, over the summer, my mom, Nate, and I would go visit Pop at his house in Allentown. We would walk in, and see the familiar sight of an old man with a beer in one hand, and his pipe in the other watching the Phillies. We’d walk in, and he would greet us. Then, all of a sudden, he would get very mad and shout out, “You damn Phillies. You can’t even bunt the guy over from first when you start with one out!”

Every visit was the same. “Damn Phillies,” this, and “Damn Phillies,” that. Even though you can’t tell from this, he was one of their biggest fans. He scarcely missed watching a game on TV. He didn’t know every player’s stats, or whatever those “knowledgable fans” knew, but he cheered when they finally scored, and cursed at their mishaps.


In 2003, it came time for the Vet’s final season. The numbers started coming off the countdown sign in the outfield . . . 81, 72, 63, 54, 45, 36, 28, 19, 10, 7, 5, 4, 3, and it was finally time for the second last game. My dad had gotten four tickets to the second last game at the Vet. Since Pop had been such a huge Phillies fan all of his life, my dad was going to ask Pop to go along to the game with us.

The day we asked him to go, though, Pop was having horrible back pains. Even though he was in great pain, he still joyfully accepted. Later that week, with just days looming before the game, Pop was admitted to the hospital. He was in such pain that he couldn’t go to the game. My dad, mom, brother, and I still went. It rained for a majority of the pre-game festivities, obviously sad that one of the organizations most loyal fan’s wasn’t there. The Phillies lost to the Braves that day, and I was sad, not only because of the loss, but also because Pop couldn’t be there.

Within a week or two after the game, Pop died. If he were to come “in” with the Phillies, you sure could bet he was going “out” with them. Many people become sad with the death of someone that close to them, but not me. I know that Pop is up with God watching the Phillies, with their beer in one hand, and pipe in the other. And every time David Bell grounds into a double play, they shout in unison, “You damn Phillies!”

Maybe, just maybe, Pop can help reverse the curse of William Penn.

PS> I bet it would be an easier thing to do if you gave me the season tickets.

by Taylor from Allentown, PA
submited on 5/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.83
35 years of tears

My parents moved to the U.S. in 1968. I was born in '72 in Wilmington, DE... My dad's younger brother moved to the States around the same time, and he became the de facto babysitter for my parents.

Ever see that cancelled HBO show, "Dream On"? That was me for the first several years of my life. I was 2. Babysitting consisted of quality time with my uncle, screaming at the Flyers, Iggles, Phillies and Sixers.

This is the sort of upbringing that makes you send birthday cards to Dayton, OH every September when you're a child. It's the one that makes you sleep with your favorite players cards at night, mint condition be damned.

I memorized every stat of every player on all of my teams.

My parents made the cruel decision (actually, Dad's company did) to move from DE to NORTH JERSEY in the summer of 1980. Yup, I was in the frickin' heart of Giants, Mets, Isles, Nets & Knicks fans during my formative years.

Pre-DirecTV, Pre-Sirius. The highlights of my sports world growing up consisted of taking the small black & white TV with the rabbit ears every Sunday, turning it at just the right angle, and hanging paper clips, wire hangers, whatever I could find, just to see if I could get a snowy view of the Philly CBS feed to watch Jaws drop back and get sacked one more time. On a more halcyon note - coming in after spending an entire day playing with friends during the summer, showering, and using Dad's OLD clock radio by the bedside, which when you held the tuning knob in and just at the right spot, could pick up 1210AM with Harry & the crew - good times.

After the magical 1982-1983 hoops season, I spent my entire grade school, middle school, and high school life defending Philly to the folks that hated us the most - and I had not a leg to stand on.... the Mets won the World Series, the Giants won the Super Bowl, the Knicks were good and we sucked - same for the Devils/Isles and us. And every time we got close...ugh.

College - decided to go to school in Philly, natch. Parents thought it was for the education. I went because I could FINALLY read about my guys every day.

Summer of '93. What fun. That fall, I went to the local CVS and bought 400 index cards. Had me and my roommate fill 'em out and send 'em in for the playoff lottery. TWO of them hit. Went to those magical playoff games - crappy seats, but we NEVER used them - not even the edge.

Moved to LA in 1998. Ironically, coincidentally, whatever - I ended up working with a group that had ties to the Lakers. So I was in the 2nd row for Game 1 of the Finals in 2001. The scoop shot. How the heck did we even win one game in that Series?

I live in LA now. Fly back to Philly every fall to catch an Iggles/Giants or Iggles/Cowboys game. Catch all other games at home alone on DirecTV (wife leaves the house, but my 2 year old has already learnt the chants), or at the one Eagles bar here in LA. Watch the Phils on MLB Extra Innings, the Sixers on League Pass. Sad to admit that hockey has fallen off my radar.

Bitch and moan about EVERY single Sixers move over the past 20 years - the chronology of trades, starting with Malone/Ruland, to Barkley/chaff, to Iverson/rent-a-wrech, is just pitiful. Our inability to draft (Bradley is just one example) and with that, inability to put a legit big man on the floor since Mo has been pitiful (can you believe that I actually convinced myself one year that Charles frickin' Shackleford was going to be somebody? Or that Manute Bol blocking 4 shots per game and scoring 4 more was the equivalent of a 12 point per game center???).

Bitch and moan about the Eagles drafting acumen. Forget about Kolb - whether it's Mamula, Harris, Davis, heck, even Bunkley - the Eagles have NEVER EVER drafted well. I'll give 'em McNabb, but that's it. I'll never forgive 'em for Sapp over Mamula. Never.

Phils? I've never been able to make hide nor hair of what our plans are - because we've never had one. Somehow we feel ok migrating from a "build for the future" to a "win it this year" back to "build for the future," all within a span of 12 months - and I'm not just talking about the last 12 months - it's always been that way. If you think about it - the '80 Phils were a culmination/perfect storm at the right time, based on years of guys playing together, with just the right additional mix added in (Rose, Tug), and guys at their peak (Schmidt, Trillo, Lefty, etc), along with a rookie spark (Lonnie). '83 was a phlash in the pan - a bunch of geezers at just the right moment, and '93 was more of the same - throw in some steroidal juice, and you have the difference between '83 and '93.

I've got my Dr. J jersey, my Flyers pennant, my Barkley shirt, my Randall framed picture, my Schmitty signed and framed shirt, my old school Phillie cap, my Eagles boxers, sweats, and jersey...and it all sits in my closet - I loathe to bring it out, but bring it out I do - every year when one of these teams gets me going and makes me think - "could it be? can we do it this year? really?" - I mean, what other city could have a baseball team that trades away it's supposed top player for future potential, has the GM come out and say, "This season is done, we're thinking about 2007 and beyond", and then have that same team go on a run to get to the playoffs, only to fall short in the last week? Only us. Only the 2006 Phillies.

The sad thing is - and I'm sure y'all are the same way - I told ANYONE that would listen here in LA - my Phils are going to fall apart, trust me, I know it.... but then I'd turn right around and watch every agonizing pitch.

I have about 20 other stories to share, but suffice to say, while I haven't shed a tear for each of them, I'm sure that I've shed 10,000 of them over the years. And I'm going to shed 10,000 more before my life as a Phan is through. As will my daughter. And her children. And their children. And their children...

by Sumeet from Los Angeles
submited on 5/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
There's Always Next Year

I married my Phillie phan husband in 1958. After having 4 Philie Phan sons, I too became a Phan so that we all would have something in common! To make this short and sweet, after all these long years of suffering, 'not only with the Phillies but also with the Flyers,and the Eagles , (although there have been some bright moments) The only thing we all really have in common is the Philadelphia Phan slogan 'There is always next year" followed by that other famous slogan, "just wait 'til next year" and of course the good old favorite , "this is a re-building year!! Take your choice-we are Philadelphia Phans and we are tough enough to take anything!!!!

Sincerely, Edith Moore

by Edith from Southampton, NJ 08088
submited on 5/6/2007
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Ave Rating:
3.67
2003 NFC title game

I had moved to Houston, TX the previous May after living in Philly my whole life. My dad and I had season tickets for the previous 10 years and he kept them. I came up that January to go to the playoff games thinking we were going to the Super Bowl. We get to the game around 9 am drinking our faces off. Somewhere around 1 my dad and I head over to the 610 WIP tent where I get on the radio talking about how this had been a life long dream to see the Eagles in the Super Bowl. We get into the stadium about 20 minutes before kickoff and proceed to scream with every good move the Eagles made in their pre-game practice. When Brian Mitchell takes the opening kickoff past mid-field I thought I was going to fall over my seat screaming. Then the next play Duce Staley takes it to the house and I started crying I was so excited. Then the game took it's terrible Philly style twist. On the Jurivicious big reception I had spotted the mismatch before the start of the play and just gave a disgusted look and told my dad to just tell me when Joe was done dancing in the end zone. From that point on the rest of the game was like a bad nightmare that I couldn't wakeup from. I don't think I talked from the second quarter till the next day. My next words were stupid f-ing Eagles then went back to silence.

by Eric from Berwyn
submited on 5/5/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
Long Distance Fan

I moved from the Philly area when I was 9 years old to Southern California (I am now 35). However, I never lost my love for the Eagles, Phillies and Flyers. To date, I am a die hard fan - which is hard on the west coast. Thanks to Directv, I have watched every Eagles game (except 2 - I got married) since 1997, and watch most Phillies and Flyers games (thanks to Tivo). Remember, the games start at 4:30 for me most nights, so by the time I get home from work the games are usually over. Again technology saves me because I now have XM Radio which allows me to listen to the Flyers and Phillies during my drive home.

Anyway, my most recent disappointment (other than the Phillies start this year and the Flyers miserable season) occurred on October 28 and 29, 2006. My brother, two uncles and my young cousin decided to go see the Eagles and Flyers in Philly. We flew a red-eye on Thursday night and got to Philly Friday morning. We still have family there and visited them, got cheesesteaks, etc. etc. Saturday the 28th was the Flyers game - and also my birthday. Well, typically, the Flyers got destroyed by the Penguins. I think it was 8-2. The Flyers scored the first goal but that was it. As it was early in the season, it wasn't too clear before then how bad the Flyers would be. This goal sealed it!

The next day was the Eagles v. Jacksonville. My younger cousin wanted nothing more than to see the fight song 3 or 4 times with the Philly faithful at the stadium. We went early to tailgate and had a great time. The game started and you all know it was a disaster. The lost 13-6 (I think). The bottom line was that they NEVER SCORED A TOUCHDOWN so my younger cousin NEVER SUNG THE FIGHT SONG - thereby creating her first Philly heartbroke. I, of course, was used to it!

Any way, I still love them - always will. E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES!!

by Matt from Cypress, California
submited on 5/3/2007
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Ave Rating:
5
The McGinnis Jumper
The 1977 N B A Championship was supposed to be "OURS"! After all we were up 2 games to none..RIIIIIGHT! How in the world can a team from PORTLAND beat the mighty SIXERS & Docter J?? Oh wait.. I remember.. George Mcginnis couldn't hit a jumper.. "FROM 9 FEET AWAY!" And to top it off, He only used 1 hand to shoot "That" jumper.. RIIIIGHT! Anyway, as the momentum was slipping away from the Sixers.. and into the hands of the Trail Blazers.. A new star was emerging.. Well, actually 2.. Bill Walton & Maurice Lucas! Yeah, that's right, 2 schmucks! We had 'em! We freakin' had 'em! But We couldn't close the deal! The BLAZERS proceeded to win 4 straight games to win the Championship that was supposed to be "OURS.. OURS!" That My friends, "THAT" was the start of a losing CHAMPIONSHIP tradition.. That only a PHILADELPHIAN can be proud of...... or not! THANKS GEORGE! (SCHMUCK)! by JOSEPH from colorado springs
submited on 4/28/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
Shantz and Short and then Abort
Its not that the Almighty isn't a Phillies fan;its more that He hates hypocrisy. I wanted that 1964 team to win the pennant so badly, that I even attended my first Mass in 20 years to pray for it to happen. The Almighty was not moved;indeed, I think I really pissed Him off. Oh, He must have thought, you stay away for 20 years and only show up when you want something from Me. "Not the way it works, bunky". Funny thing was, it wasn't that clear to me that I even had to go to Mass. I mean, after all , we had a 6 game lead with 2 weeks left . The pitching and offense were clicking. No other team seemed to be on a hot streak. Sure thing, right? Well we Phillies fans know better. Nothing is ever safe until the fat lady has sung AND has gone to bed for the night. Hence, my quest for Divine Intervention. You all know the rest--a ten game losing streak, Bunning and Short everyday until their arms fell off, the catastrophic failures of former Philly legend Bobby Shantz, Gene Mauch's 86th mental meltdown(498 more to come later), a total collapse. Moral: if you want Him to help, don't wait 20 years to ask . by jay from new york, ny
submited on 4/27/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.95
1964 Phillies Ecstasy to Agony
I was 9 years old sitting in my grandparents house in South Philly waiting for the Phils game to come on.When in walks my dad with 2 World Series tickets for the Phillies.
I couldnt believe my eyes.I was so excited that I couldnt stop staring at those tickets.I had all my Phillies baseball cards looking over each card with excitement.But too my delightful surprise came a resounding THUD.The Phils had lost again and were now officially eliminated form what I thought was a sure pennant. I was saddened ,shocked and very hurt. As I sat and cried in my grandparents kitchen ,I started looking over my Phillies baseball cards that I been clutching for good luck.Slowly I would look at everyone and who ever I thought was the cause of the worst collapse in MLB history I would tear up his card. As I was finally through the whole team the only thing left was the World Series tickets and before I could get to rip them up my dad jumped up and took them from me. He said at least we can get our money back. But for some reason he must have seen the look in my teary eyes and he ripped them up instead.As he gave me a hug to say it was alright we both took the tickets and taped them back together so we can always remember what could have been and to this day I still have them. Every once in a while I look at them and remember that day with my dad and to this day it still brings back tears to my 52 year old eyes.From all the years of following the Phils, the summer of 1964 will forever be my favorite team ever.Through the years this has taught me turn my ecstasy to agony to agony to ecstasy. by Fran ( Boe ) from South Philly
submited on 4/25/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.78
A Haunted Super Bowl

For years, I've boasted that my Dad was "team Dr. for the Eagles." I don't know how accurate that is. He was an orthopedic surgeon, and when he started a practice with the reigning team ortho in '75 or so, my Dad shared duties. So my whole family went to the games, although Dad would be on the sidelines and the rest of us--Mom and 6 kids--would wave from the stands. My dad's work allowed me to go to the Super Bowl in 1980--sad ending, but a great experience. In 1992, my Dad's voice went away while getting ready for a Memorial Day party. Clearing his throat didn't help, nor did the Dr.'s misdiagnosis of simple laryngitis. That voice I remember so well never came back, and a week or so before Christmas, cancer took him. We received flowers from the team, and Dick Vermeil came to his wake. Fast forward to the 21st century. The Eagles are in the Super Bowl, and I'm with a woman who will one day be my ex-girlfriend, buying her a flat screen tv at Circuit City. The store had a wall full of televisions, and pretty much every channel was showing highlights of the '80 Super Bowl in preparation for the Eagles appearance later that day. My mind was wandering as it so often does while the evil ex was negotiating with a sales person, and at one point, my eyes fell on the wall of tv's. MY DAD WAS STARING AT ME ON EVERY TELEVISION, COVERING A WHOLE WALL OF THE STORE. It only occurred to me later that they were showing the Eagles sideline from the 80's, and the camera was panning over the sideline and happened to fall on my dad when I turned and looked. I screamed like a camp counselor meeting Jason Vorhees...in the middle of a Circuit City in suburban Philly. I'm sure, the evil girlfriend was impressed. As you all know, we are compelled by our egos to inject meaning and pattern in what is really random circumstances, and in that spirit, I suggest that My Dad was sending me a message. "Break Up with this girl, Bobby." But, like all the messages he actually delivered me in life, I ignored it and paid the consequences later. Dad, I should have listened to that voice of yours more.

by Robert from Philadelphia
submited on 4/25/2007
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Ave Rating:
3.33
THE 1964 PHILLIES

I HAVE BEEN A PHILLIES FAN FOR 47 YEARS AND I HAVE GONE THROUGH PURE HELL! I SHALL NEVER FORGET 1964. THE PHILLIES HAD A 6.5 LEAD WITH 12 GAMES TO PLAY AND WE BLEW IT!

THE PHILLIES WILL ACHIEVE THEIR 10,000TH LOSS THIS YEAR BUT I SHALL ALWAYS LOVE MY PHILLIES. VIVA 1980!!!!!!!

by Alphonse from haledon
submited on 4/25/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Tim Kerr's Woes

As a Flyers' fan, groing up in South Philly was a way of life.. we were just coming off 2 Stanley Cup Championships and we were expecting to win at least 2 more. In the 1980's Philadelphia picked up a superstar center by the name of " BIG TIM KERR"! " BIG TIM" was all that and then some. But a funny thing happened on the QUEST to a third Stanley Cup.. "BIG TIM" began to develope what we PHILLY FANS like to call.. "What The Hell Happened to You"? Syndrome! Tim began to experience back pains that kept him out of the Payoffs and out from in front of the opponents net.. Just when we needed him most! We Loved "BIG TIM".. BUT We would've loved him more if the "philly jinx"... Coulda' just stayed off his back!

by Joe from colorado springs
submited on 4/25/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.89
1988

There is at least one time every season after the Phils lose a game, I think 1988. It's not every loss that brings me back to that year. It is always after a game that had me hooked until the last pitch. The kind that had you thinking the whole game, "I can't believe they are going to pull this off." Or worse, "I hope to God they can just hold on for one more inning." Regardless of how much that knife twists in my heart, it still can't be worse than 1988. Go ahead, trade Ryan Sanberg and Larry Bowa, Julio Franco for Von Hayes, Curt Schilling for batting practice balls, or put Mitch Williams in the 9th inning of game six instead of Tommy Green. That’s OK, the sting is not like that of September 26, 1988.

It was my birthday game, really the 30th but the Phils were to be in Montreal that day. When your a kid and your birthday falls at the end of the season like mine, the end of the season takes on another meaning for you. It felt like it was baseball's present to me. I'm not going to hide anything here, I still can't wait to see who they're playing on my birthday when the schedule comes out. It is one of those things that will always belong to me. This was always my dad's present to me. Two tickets behind home plate, the Phils vs. whomever…. like it mattered. I was with my dad at the game.

I went to a pretty high number of games that year. Judging by my ticket stubs, yes I have saved them all, it was 18 games. My dad has been a season ticket holder since 1975. Tickets were plentiful and the Phils were pitiful so 18 games wasn't completely out of the ordinary. Just another season at the Vet. The summer for a little kid just seemed like it was meant to be, no school, warm weather and a ball game nearly every night. It was your typical Phil's season, mired in mediocrity. Gone were the seasons of the bottle rocket scream, pop and sparkle. These were the return of the sparkler days, taking forever to light, then fizzle and spark a bit then go out without much fanfare. April began with 3 games attended, and 3 loses witnessed. May was the same 3 with the same result. By All-Star break, I had a personal record of 0-10. It was beginning to get worse. My dad had attended at least 3 or 4 home wins to this point. Was I the bad luck charm? After the All-Star game, I made the decision that something HAD to be one. Every game I went to had to have a completely different outfit. If they lost, ANY part of that outfit was bannished from the Vet. July went 0-4. If the Phill's managed to win after this point, I would clearly have to wear the same underwear and socks for the rest of the season. This rational may have been ludicris to some, but I had to do something, right? August 0-2 and beginning to run out of clothes. So at this point the Phil's are 0-16 in my book and worse yet school was going to start. Could it possibly get worse? Are MY Phillies going to give me a summer with out one lousey, stinking win? Why in the world would they do this to me, I've always been there for them, always. September came and so did another lose. Now we were at 0-17 with only one game left, my birthday.

It was obvious, the only thing that would make sense here would be a win. A win for my birthday. A win for their biggest fan. A win for the kid who never uttered a discouraging word about my beloved Phil’s. Honestly here, Richie Ashburn had inscribed in my baby book. " To Andy, Phillies centerfielder 2001. - Richie Ashburn" I was born September 30, 1978. My father was torn between watching the Phillies clinch the NL East and my birth. I would not have harbored any ill feelings with either choice. He did choose the later in the end let the record note. Robin Roberts and I blow candles on the same day every year. This was my destiny. A win was going to erase the whole season. They owed me this.

September 26 came and went. No one else really cared about the result, the Phillies were eliminated in August. It was Eagles time wasn’t it? I cared. The Phils jumped out to a quick 2 run lead. I remember thinking that this was it! I was going to see them win this year. I was right on the nose about my intuition. It was it. The Phillies lost 4-10. That was it. What a birthday huh? Everyone shuffled out quietly except for those Mets fans. Why not, they were going to the playoffs. It was pretty much like an exhibition game to them. I can't really put into words how much it hurt.

The Phillies did give me a birthday present that night though, and a great one at that. I became a real Phillies fan that night, like my dad, like his dad. At that moment I felt what it was like to have this team rip you heart out and show it to you while it still is quivering. They were still my Phills, they always will be. Every Phillies fan has had their heart ripped out by this team. The time and place differs for every one of us. We all keep coming back with high hopes and bright eyes forgetting last season like it was 5 years ago. We all know that there will be that moment every year this team will remind us who we really are. Phans that love their losers.

Want to thank Big Rod and Big Chol, Little Chol, the 1988 Phillies (Steve Jeltz imparticular), Timmy Riley and his redition of Michael Jack, Jaun Samuel, and Von Hayes at bat that made us laugh EVERY DAY, the Peanut Lady and Cotton Candy Man (...Candy man how sweet it is...) for being there every game for me. Just remember the days when in the 7th inning on you could he clear as night on TV..." EVERYBODY HITS ...... WAHOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

by ANDY (co founder celebrate10000.com) from Sinking Spring
submited on 4/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.8
Deron Johnson

I was named after Phillies first baseman, Deron Johnson. In fact, I have an autographed jersey of his from when he was the Phillies first base coach in the early 1980s.

My father named me after DJ when he was a DH with Oakland in 1974. Deron played briefly with the A's that year before he was released. I never saw Deron play for any team, but my father made a commitment to me that he would somehow introduce me to Deron Johnson. (My father, by the way, never met him either.)

Back when Veterans Stadium had that parking lot for the players and the coaches right where this ominous ventilation system rattled, I finally had my chance to meet Deron. Granted, I was 8 going on 9 and still had no idea on how I would meet him. Well, my father and I were standing outside the parking lot fence, and my father called Deron over to introduce to me. My father said that he named me after him and all I remember to this day was Deron saying, "You named him after me?"

After he asked me if I was a good baseball player, I nodded back with trepidation since I was stunned that Deron was standing there and talking to my father. Deron then told my father to call Phillies front office and give the front office my name and address. Little did I know that Deron Johnson would send me the shirt of his back, an autographed #2 jersey from the magical 1983 year.

I was stunned when the Phillies let him go as their first base/hitting coach. To top it off, they replaced him with....DEL UNSER. From that point on, I always checked to see how the team's batting average was under Unser compared to that while it was with DJ. I took pleasure in team not hitting the same under Unser as they did with Deron. The years of 1984, 1985, 1986 were tough times for Phillies fans. I remember those years, because we tried to get to as many Sunday games as possible.

The toughest part was to see Deron Johnson's obituary in the newspaper in 1992. To see my first name in the obituary was weird enough, but to know that Deron Johnson was sick for a long time, made me remember the one time that I talked (or nodded) to Deron Johnson in 1983 and how nice of time that was for me as a Phillies fan.

by Deron from NJ
submited on 4/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Robin Roberts - oh so close
Another Robin Roberts story from 1954 - I listened to this one on the radio in my bedroom in Castle Hills, Delaware.

Robbie gave up a lead-off home run to the Reds' Bobby Adams and then proceeded to retire the next 27 batters in a row. Ironic that the disappointment (no perfect game) was immediate and the gratification (a near miss) was delayed.

Not all Phillies stories are depressing, but they all have their tinges of gloom.
by Richard from Dexter, MI
submited on 4/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Robin Roberts hard luck story
Among the 9967 (and counting) Phillies losses was one I saw in person at Connie Mack Stadium in the late 50's or early 60's. Robin Roberts - my boyhood hero - was the starter and loser to the Cincinnati Reds.

The final score was 4-3 and the Reds scored all their runs on solo gopher balls - Roberts' achilles heel. One of the homers was a pinch-hitter by the legendary Smoky Burgess. Gus Bell had two more and I'm not sure who had the 4th - maybe Jim Greengrass.

Anyway, needless to say I was crushed. My Uncle who had accompanied my Dad and me to the game knew how devoted I was to Robbie and he couldn't resist rubbing it in and taunting me when the Phils lost. Such is the life of a Phillies fanatic.

by Richard from Dexter, MI
submited on 4/24/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.57
A modest proposal
Since we Phillies fans, and Philadelphia sports fans in general, are not likely to have the opportunity to celebrate a championship season any time soon, why don't we celebrate the only distinction they cannot deny us....LETS PARADE DOWN BROAD STREET WHEN THEY LOSE #10000! by Evan from Philadelphia
submited on 4/21/2007
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Ave Rating:
3.91
The Ripken Effect
Up 2 games to none, and planning my ascent up Broad Street during the 1982 World Series. Cal Ripkin and his band of brothers began methodically dismantling the Phillies by puttin' a woopin' on them in the next four games. As I sat weeping on the steps of "My Mother's" South Philly home, I began to wonder; "Could it get any worse than this"? Here I sit, a couple thousand losses later.. and I ask; "Could it get any worse than this"?

by Joe from colorado springs
submited on 4/21/2007
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Ave Rating:
3.7
The Ripken Effect

Up 2 games to none in the1982 World Series, and begining to plan my Broad Street ascent.. I began to witness what I believe was the start of the curse of the "PHILLY PHANS"! Little Cal Ripken, and his band of Brothers, began methodically puttin' a woopin' on the the Boys of summer! 4 games later, and Baltimore celebrating what shoulda' been "OUR" World Series, and all "Cried" out, I began to wonder; could this be "The Curse of William Penn"?

by Joe from colorado springs
submited on 4/21/2007
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Ave Rating:
3
A History Lesson

Hey Philly fans - many of you yongsters know little or nothing about ancient history in Philadelphia. From 1918 through 1948 (31 seasons, count 'em) the Phillies finished each season with sub-.500 records except for one year and that was in the 1932 season when they went 78-76 and finished in the upper atmosphere of fourth place in the eight-team National League. WOW!

And while I was a kid growing up in nearby South Jersey, Connie Mack's Philadelphia Athletics were also doormats in the eight-team American League, finishing in last place nearly every season. Clearly those were the good old days in Philly baseball lore. And finally the Athletics left Philly after the 1954 season leaving the mediocre Phillies alone in Philly.

In July, 1938 the Phillies abandoned their 51-year-old stadium at 15th and Huntingdon Street and became tenants of Connie Mack at Shibe Park, about five blocks west. This had the effect of concentrating the two worst teams in baseball at one location in Philly!

And now, Philly will have the distinction of having the loosingest team in all of professional sports. Ten thousand losses! I can't wait.

by Roger from Berkeley Heights, NJ
submited on 4/21/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.5
3,631
August 10, 1981. When you are six years old, as I was on that day, you don't know about "labor issues" or "strikes" or even "history." But I thought I was in the greatest place in the world that night - the Vet.

This night was the start of baseball's "second half" against the Cardinals. There was also a guy named Pete Rose who was tied for the most hits in the National League ever. 60,000 fans were in the Vet that night, and when Rose came up to bat in the bottom of the first, that incredible chant of "PETE! PETE!" started up. I thought - "This is unbelievable! Is baseball always like this?"

Pete did get his hit in the eighth inning, a clean single to left. Schmidt drove him in three batters later, but the Phils would ultimately lose, 7-3. But I was hooked for life. Every ball game I've gone to since does not compare to the 60,000 who were there that night.
by Mike from Wyoming Valley
submited on 4/20/2007
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Ave Rating:
2.5
Team to Beat

Yes, Philly is the team to beat and we Mets fans love seeing you get beat- again agian again and again. The Mets intend to do just that- beat the Phillies this year- again and again and again.

None the less I feel compellled to ffer you congratulations on an excellent web site that takes getting beat in style and even manages to turn it into an excellent cause. The fundraiser is a great idea..

Don't get depressed- because as Rollins said- The Phils are the eam- "to beat".

PS if this entry wins anything- give it to the charity.

by John from NEW YORK CITY!!!!!!
submited on 4/20/2007
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Ave Rating:
1.57
Philly - Mets Game

It was early in the 1985 season. A bunch of us from Long Island (Diehard Mets fans) made the trek down to the Vet for a series. In the first game, we had seats in the upper deck out in right field.

A fight broke out between Mets and Philly fans. One Philly fan actually started ripping seats out and throwing them at Mets fans. I couldnt believe one of your own would do something like that. Very sad.

by Billy Bob from Long Beach
submited on 4/20/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Beginning a Strong of '93 Series stories
   I'm sure that when stories are submitted, one in three will be about the '93 
series. (The others will be about the '64 Phillies, I guess, but I was too busy
being born to pay attention). And of those 1 in three, a healthy pecentage
should be the "where were you during the pitch" moments.
Akin to Kennedy's assasination (during which, I was too busy not being born yet).


Here's mine: it's not that action-packed or dramatic a story, but maybe it will 
start an interesting string. Joe Carter comes to the plate, Mitch readies, and I
pace in my girlfriend's basement, stopping to watch--crouched forward, like a
shortstop--when each pitch is delivered. When the pitch is done, I "uncrouch"
and resume pacing. So, I was "crouched" at the crucial moment, the pitch
was delivered, that awful thing happened next (I can't even describe it), and for
the next fifteen minutes or so, I remained in my crouch, stunned. Dimly, I heard
my girlfriend express condolence, but I couldn't yet respond. I was somewhere else.
When I came out of the crouch, I fell back on her bench, still stunned. It took a
few minutes more for me to summon the energry to unleash the expletives.
So, that's it.  Now, where were you when The Wild Thing threw the pitch?
by Robert from Philadelphia
submited on 4/20/2007
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Ave Rating:
3.25
Robin Roberts loses his 19th in a 22 loss season

My Dad took me to this game in 1957 or 1958. Roberts was having a tough year, but this game he was doing OK. Until late in the game, a play when the Phils were up was contested. When Roberts came back out to pitch for the 8th inning, the announcer explained the strange play and umpire call. Roberts lost it - the only time in his career and was thrown out of the game. It was a dark day for the Phils and Roberts.

by Walt from Warwick
submited on 4/16/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.88
Del Ennis Traded!

I was a very young 17 year old boy when I left the area to
attend college which was located some 300 miles from my home.
During the 1950's there was not a lot of transportation to be
had in going from place to place and indeed my college was
about eleven hours away via bus and train service.

From that first September until the first vacation was a very
long and lonely time for me. I really missed home and all
that went along with it. In making my way home that day,
using bus transportation from city to city, I finally ended up
at the train station in North Philly. This was not a place I
knew well, nor was it a place I really wanted to be.

But, it was a place I had to be inorder to get to my beloved
home. With some time to spend before my train left, I
wandered around the station and found a copy of the old
Philadelphia Bulletin. I went right to the sports page and
without any warning what so ever, read that Del Ennis had been
traded to the St. Louis Cardinals -- gone forever.

Being very tired, lonely and now dismayed, I began to sob
like a baby sitting all by myself at the train station.
I will never forget this loss and will never be able to
forgive the Phillies for making such a move. It really hurt me!!!

by JOSEPH from Warminster
submited on 4/10/2007
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Ave Rating:
6.2
Phantastic Ride Sixers Style

I remember it like it was yesterday, the year was 2000 October 7th my son was born late in the night hours (10:22pm) what a day, earlier that day while waiting for his arrival I sat patiently in the waiting room watching a great College foot ball game between the Miami Hurricanes and the Florida State Seminoles, it was one of those so called Instant Classics we hear about, you know FSU has a chance at the end to win the game and what do you know they miss the field goal wide LEFT.

The Philadelphia sports scene was in transition, led by Donovan McNabb the Eagles were on their way to their first winning season under Andy Reid, the Phillies well they did not make the playoffs that year but they started to head towards the right direction they hired Larry Bowa as their Manager, and then there was the Sixers a team built around a tiny guard and a Hall of Fame coach.

This team had been together for 3 years led by Allen Iverson, George Lynch, Eric Snow, Theo Ratliff, and Aaron McKie. The season started with a blow-out win at MSG and then it just continued with 9 more wins in a row. These 76ers were not the same Sixers we were used to. The terrorized the Eastern Conference with tenacious defense and timely offense from their MVP and all the role players. The 76ers went into the All-Star break with a 36-14 record leading the Eastern Conference, then after winning the All-Star game coach Brown decided to dismantle the team, trading for 67 year old Dikembe Mutombo Mpolondo Mukamba Jean Jacque Wamutombo for the final 27 games of the regular season and the Finals push. Dikembe fit in pretty good another player that would rebound, defend with no offensive game. The Sixers went on to win the Eastern Conference and had the #1 seed for the playoffs.

The playoff were probably the best time I’ve had as a Philadelphia Phan we started the playoff with a loss to the Indiana Pacers at no time did I fear the Pacers, they had beaten the 76ers the last 2 season and it was time for payback and paybacks we got the next 3 games were won and we moved on to the next round. The next two series all went down to the wire game 7 here at First Union Center. We escaped a last second three pointer from Chris Carter and we survived the Big Three from Milwaukee, the only thing standing between our first Championships in almost 20years was the hated L.A Lakers.

Throughout the playoff the 76ers were the talk of the town, the top story in the Daily News sports section; this was the city’s team. A.I won the MVP, Larry Brown was the Coach of the Year, Aaron McKie won the Sixth Man of the Year, and Dikembe Mutombo won the Defensive Player of the year, with all these accolades no one gave the Philadelphia 76ers a chance in the finals. The Lakers were coming into the Finals winners of their last 19 games including the regular season. Wednesday June 6th at the Staple Center was the start of our quest to become Champions. The game started, I was sitting in my living room with my wife, and my son (my daughter was sleeping) the 76ers started red hot leading throughout the game, but the Lakers were not going out with out a fight they made a run late and sent the game to overtime. My heart racing and the nerves running through me they start the OT. It appeared the Lakers would extend their winning streak to 20 when they scored the first five points of overtime, but the 76ers scored 13 of the game's final 15 points, including seven straight by Iverson. The best moment in this game was the crossover step-back jumper by A.I over little troll Tyrone Lue at that time when the shot went down I really thought we were on our way to the Championship but the Sixers could not overcome the power of the Lakers and all the injuries.

The 76ers did not win another game VS. the Lakers although the series was close loosing by an average of 10 points per game, I will never forget that TEAM they scratched crawled and hustled all the way, they had HEART and they never quit. We have come full circled since then A.I is now in Denver and the future looks bleak. They were once the darlings of the City. Everyone had the flags on their cars representing the Philadelphia 76ERS, everyone blew their horns for kids standing in the curves with signs that Team brought everyone together everyone in the city was a Sixers PHAN and like all the Philadelphia teams they fell short. The 76ers will not reach the same mark as the Phillies any time soon but they share about the same amount of disappointments.

Even though I have never seen a Championship I do believe our time is coming and when it gets here it’s going to be the best. We will fill Broad Street from the Stadiums all the way through the City, celebrating as one; the way REAL PHANS DO...

by Hector from Philadelphia
submited on 2/18/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.12
premieu
The recent retirement and honor of Keith Premieu brought me back to the memory of game 6 of the eastern finals in 2004 vs. Tampa Bay. First let me set up the feeling that made this goal and series so memorable. It was the last season before the inevitable lockout season, so at the time we didnt know when we would get another chance. We also felt the flyers had a very strong team. We had a good coach, a capitan who could carry the team on his back (Keith Premieu), and a decent goal tender at the time (Robert Esche). It was game 6, the flyers are facing elimnation in the series, down by one goal with less then 2 minutes left. Everyone feels that the season is over. Then the unimagiable happens. Premieu makes one of the most memorable goals in flyers history by reaching around the net to put in a goal that saved the season. Then he set up Simon Gagne in overtime to win the game and force a game 7. After the game i remeber watching ben wallace of the detriot pistons in a post game interview go insane after watching gagne win the game. By the way this game was at home, making all the more sweeter. As a true Philadelphia fan, i should not have been so confindent knowing our history. In game 7 the next day the flyers lost by one goal. This being one of my first major memories of experiencing the Philadelphia curse, it was devestating. I cried. Then it was like tourtre to watch the Tampa Bay Lightning, a team based in a city where no one give a shit about hockey, win it all. I will remember this for the rest of my life.
by Mike from POttstown
submited on 2/14/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.3
Best and Worst Day of My Life

This story takes place on September 9, 1997. I driving in my car on the way to the hospital to see my son be born. At this time I'm only twenty, not married, confused on which way my life is going. Of course I have on my Phillies hat and Dude jersey, that really never left my back.

I tune in the radio to 610 to try to hear someone else talking instead of my inner monologue. Just then I hear of the death of my favorite Phillie, Whitey. A tear rolls down my cheek. Don't know what to think now, I'm lost. A hero of mine just died.

A few minutes later I arrive at the hospital and soon my son is born. I didn't get to name him after Richie. But the little blonde haired boy had some Whitey in him.

Almost 10 years later, we are married, life is fine. He still wears #1 on his baseball jersey. As I walk through my house and see pictures of Richie, or right now as Harry & Whitey are bobbleing in front of me, I can't forget that day. My hero died, and I became my sons hero.

P.S. Thank to Rod and Captian Charley for all those Phillies tickets through the years. Keep um' coming.

by Matt from Lansdale
submited on 2/10/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
All I want Is That Parade

Any time a "new" franchise wins the championship in any sport, it's the first thing that runs through my head:

"Their fans don't deserve it."

I mean, the Marlins have two, two!! rings in their short existence and in all my years as a fan, Philly pro sports have zero.

We all know the last one was 1980 ... so four teams over 27 years ... do the math ... 108 seasons of a potential winner, and we're 0-for-108.

The biggest pimple-faced geek in high school has better odds finding a prom date.

I was roped into this whole Philly rooting massochistic love triangle by my dad - I imagine that's the case with a lot of you.

He is one of the true Philly fans just looking for a winner, be it Smarty Jones or St. Joes.

When I was a sophomore in college at Syracuse, we won the NCAA tournament and I actually felt guilty that my first championship as a fan came from a non-Philadelphia team.

Thanks for doing this Charley.

This is for all of us who kept cheering after Joe Carter shut us up.

It's for putting up with three NFC Championship losses by the Iggles followed up a fourth-quarter collapse in Supe.

It's for the believers after A.I.'s Game 1 in L.A.

The day will come.

The White Sox fans waited and were rewarded. So too was Red Sox Nation (although they got a few Superbowls too).

When the parade finally makes its way down Broad Street, we'll all be on stage - both the players on the floats and us phans on the sidewalks cheering them on.

We all will have earned it.

by Dave from Bryn Mawr
submited on 2/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
Joe Carter blues
I've been a lifelong Phil's fan. I was 10 years old in 1980 and innocently thought championships and such for our sports teams were always going to be commonplace. A view I would come to seriously revise. I loved that 1980 team and Mike Schmidt beyond all things. Later in life, after many disappointing seasons the '93 team came along and we all know what magic they were. I was on my ship (USS Callaghan DDG-994) actually getting underway during game 6 of the World Series. The game was being piped over the ships internal radio, no TV. I was devestated as we fell far behind and jumping for joy when Nails led that comeback. I was then of course crushed when Fregosi put in a reluctant and by that time rag armed Wild thing who gave up the Joe Carter walk off HR. True to form, that years teams wrung me for the maximum emotionally and left me sad. I now live in San Diego, CA and I have a new son. I daily wonder if I should inflict this burden upon, to be a Philadelphia Phillies fan. It is a badge of honor to be a die hard Phils fan, but it is a burden. Still not sure. by Tim from San Diego, CA
submited on 2/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
3
4th and 15
Everyone who knows me knows I'm a huge Eagles fan. They know I talk trash like no other...because I can. But this year just ripped my heart out.

I was out at a bar with a work buddy of mine....I think it was Jack Russels. I walk in and there's one other Eagle fan there. Surprise surprise, freakin Giants fans have all of a sudden adopted the Saints. Needless to say, we did a shot with the other Eagles fan in the bar. Maker's Mark- good stuff to get us going for a great game.

Unfortunately, the game didn't go as planned. I won't go through a play by play of the evening or the game. A couple other Eagles fans joined us, and we had a good time. (Unfortunately, one of the Eagles fans was really annoying and kept yelling "Let's go Giants" at the fake fans...that got old real quick.) We all know what happened this year- and the reason for this is to say why it happened.

Andy Reid. Andy, if you're reading this, listen to me.

Right away, first mistake was when we were driving in the fourth quarter and we got stopped on 2nd and 1. It's one yard- do NOT run a play in the flat to THE BACKUP FULLBACK! Run a QB sneak for goodness sake, but anything other than a play that's going to LOSE TWO YARDS! So of course we end up w/a FG and are still down, instead of going up by a point after scoring a TD. Good job number one.

Then comes the stupidity of all stupidity. 4th and 10. We get a big completion to Baskett, which gets called back for a false start (note- the false start got called like 5 seconds AFTER the play had ended- you think the NFL is pushing for a Saints championship, or what?)

So, we have a fourth and 15 and you decide to PUNT! First of all, your defense is getting run through like fucking swiss cheese. Second of all, you just had a 15+ yard completion called back. Third, we had the most big plays in all of the NFL this year! Andy, grow some balls and run a play! We only had two timeouts left...they get a first down and that's game! Yet, you punt. And Deuce gets a first down. And I break down in the bar.

Andy's done a pretty good job here. Hell, he got us to the playoffs. But everyone- he's just not all there w/his playcalling. He needs a solid offensive coordinator (NOT Marty M.) to completely take over. And he needs a director of common sense, like Bill Simmons suggests all the time. I vote for myself (or another fan, whatever works...)

I'm available Andy- I can be had relatively cheap too. And I bet you won't make another bonehead play with the new DCS on the sideline. So call me up and make me an offer. I'll be waiting, holding my Eagles football in my Eagles jersey, wrapped in my Eagles blanket...waiting for next year to get here so you can break my heart...again.
by Joe from New York, NY
submited on 2/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
YOU KNOW WHO
On October 23, 1993 the first tragic event in my sports life took place and will live with me for the rest of my life. As a 13 year old boy in love with the greatest sport in the world, in the prime of my playing career, I sat on the couch with my mom and my grandfather watching the October classic. Then all of a sudden it happened a scenario that even the deepest darkest people could not dream up. After an epic pitching performance in a 5 hitter the previous game by Schill, some even more spectacular happened, but this time in an unimaginable way. A game winning walk-off 3 run homer in the clinching game of a WS, by a man who will forever be on the top of the all time most hated list in Philadelphia, did what I believe has only been done 1 or 2 other times in baseball history. So as we figured, it could only happen to us. For the rest of my life I will forever hate a man who as far as we know is a good guy and a borderline HOF in Joe Bleepin Carter. Although Mitch Williams gets 90% of the blame the true blame should go to the usage of Mitch Williams down the stretch. He had nothing left in the WS and at the same time you had to ride the train that got you there. Now, being a 26 year old Philadlephia four sports fan and still in the pro sports basement I appreciate more and more every day and though I certainly cannot stand the innevitableness of always coming up short in every sport, even the horses,lol, I am ready each and every season for the slimest of chances that one day in June, October, or February we will be attending the greatest party ever thrown and it will be on a Broad St facing what we will only see as heaven. by Rick from West Chester
submited on 2/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Why don't we have a prayer?

So, like 90% of the people visiting this site (the other 10% visit to laugh and poke fun at us), I'm a Philly fan. Tried and true, through and through, I bleed green during football and in baseball red white and blue. I've seen the lows...oh, the unbelievable amount of lows and the few peaks that we've had. But never, have I ever, seen a championship. In the 25 years that I've been alive, I have not seen a single team of mine win anything. And now, I live in Manhattan- that's right, home of the Yankee and Mets fans. All I hear about is how many pennants the Yankees have, or how the Mets are going to win the next five World Series. It's gotten to the point that I almost believe- but I hold out hope. Despite watching Mitch Williams last pitch in 93, Iverson leading us to a Game 1 win against the Lakers and then Shaq and Kobe dismantling the Sixers in 2001, truly believing Donovan and company were going to win the Super Bowl against the Patriots and then watching him throw a pick to end the game...I still believe. Maybe I'm not too jaded yet. Twenty five years to some doesn't seem like all that long. But to me, it's an eternity because...well, it's all I've got.

My office is decorated with Eagles paraphernalia (including the book, "If football's a religion, why don't we have a prayer?") and my Phillies mini-helmet sits proud on the bookcase. Yet day after day, month after month, I get to deal with cheering for a "loser". And you know what everyone? It's all going to be worth it...because one day, we will prevail. Who knows what will happen on that day- Philadelphia though, will be partying that night...and I'll be joining in, no matter what.

by Joe from Manhattan, NY
submited on 2/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
Charlie's stories

Charlie,

I'm a Mets fan, so yeah, we have to hate each other, but I wanted to let you know that I find your stories the most absolutely, positively, stunning and enjoyable parts of my day. Great to see a real fan share his passion.

As a Mets fan for 35 years, I know a lot about losing and a little about winning (and that little sustains me). Charlie, we share nothing except a mutual love for Tug McGraw. That, and we now have the perfect halves - we have the best left side of the infield and you the best right side.

Thanks for the stories and good luck this year - you will need it when Jose Reyes comes to the plate! Cheers!

by Tom from MD - now
submited on 2/7/2007
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Ave Rating:
3
always have always will
i grew up wit the phillies. to me they were the best. i watch the 93 team go allt he way to the world series only to lose it but i love watchin it...when i was a kid i went to the games wit my dad and brothers, it became our thing i even started bein a catcher cuz my favorite player was darren daulton... i made a bizzare play in lil league and they didnt count it as a out cuz it was friggin lil leauge... the phillies made me love baseball and even if they suc year after year i still remember the wins same goes for all our team, eagles, flyers and sixers.... the wins are what count not the loses... by David from Philadelphia
submited on 2/6/2007
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Ave Rating:
1
The wave that was a nightmare.
It was a cold january day in the comfortable confines of the 331 section of the late Veterans Stadium,the Eagles were playin the Tampa Bay Buccaneers for a shot at playing in the NFC Championship game the following week. I don't really remember the score of the game but all the same it was a loss of course that broke my heart after a great year that should'nt have ended with TampaBay. The biggest thing that stuck in my beer buzzed head was the interception by Rondea Barber that he ran all the way back for six more seemingly undeserving points. Thats not the worst of it tho...it was the fat bastard Warren Sapp that stood in the endzone as Rondea Barber was makin his way to the other enzone stood there waving Goodbye to the stunned Eagles fans....That image of a wave goodbye stuck in my mind for a few years and i can still see him waving as if were yesterday....Well thats my dissapointing storie and i hope i didnt bring back any nightmares of your own...Go! Birds!!

by Brian from Huntingdon Valley
submited on 2/6/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
There's always next year.
It's a family thing. But not the normal way. My dad's from Baltimore, so my Phillies love was passed down from my mom and mom mom too. I heard all the stories growing up - the '50 Whiz Kids, the '64 collapse, the jubilation of '80 - and all about watching 'em come through Reading on their way to the majors - Schmidty, Bowa, the Bull, Boone - and feeling jealous, but realizing at the same time I'll be able to tell my kids about J-Roll, Chase, Krukker's cancer rehab weekend series and the time that the Reading Phillies unveiled Schmidty's retired Reading #24, where Ryan Howard hit a home run that landed at the base of the placard - truly a passing of the torch. Stories of taking the train down to Connie Mack and the Vet to see the games; Aunt Mildred took my mom and Aunt Kathi to close out Connie Mack and then to open the Vet, something my cousin Alena and I duplicated by closing out the Vet ($75 for a $6 ticket) and opening Citizen's Bank Park ($240 for a $35 ticket). True to form, the Phightins' lost both games. Would you expect anything less?

Until '93, it was just 'They're the closest team, and I've seen some of them play in Reading, and Mom and Mom Mom and most of the rest of the family are Phillies fans, so I'll be one too'. That '93 team had character, but they were also a bunch of regular guys. My Uncle Larry would've fit in perfectly between Krukker and the Dude on Macho Row. I remember watching Wild Thing get that last out in the NLCS - Mom was getting ready for work as a night shift nurse, and the game was on tv. She had turned the tv on mute and had the radio on because she said (and I agree) that radio play-by-play is better, and Harry called it - "Struck 'im out!" - and jumping around, cheering my head off. My friend John's dad took him to a World Series game, and I was so jealous. I remember going camping with my Boy Scout troop at Locust Lake State Park during the first weekend of the World Series. I took a battery operated radio so I wouldn't miss Game 1. Surprise - the Phils lost, just like they lost the whole thing. But you know what? I stick by them, because they leave it out there on the field...and there's always next year.

by Doug from Reading
submited on 2/6/2007
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Ave Rating:
N/A
'57' Green and Red'

I grew up in Mt Airy in the 50's watching the Phils on an old small black and white TV-which became a bigger black and white TV by the time we moved to the "suburbs" in Springfield Twp. (Montco) in 1955. There I watched baseball on TVthrough a camera in the press box high above home plate-no sideline, centerfield, etc., cameras. And of course By Saum , Gene Kelly, and maybe some Bill Campbell, doing play by play/color. I always marveled at the calls they made of the pitches-you couldn't tell a curve from a fast ball with that camera work!

By 1958, I had tried out for the Flourtown/Erdenheim Little League and my Dad was it's first President. I can remember laying the sod for our new field behind the old Flourtown firehouse that spring, along with many other volunteers. I was 10 years old and baseball was my life. I had copied Richie Ashburn's left handed batting style-I threw right-played center field-was as fast as the wind-had no arm, hit lead off, and could drag bunt like Richie, for base hits.

But my epiphany came the summer before when my Dad took my brother and I to Connie Mack for a game.

Baseball till then, for a nine year old, was Dad hitting us flyballs (he never played organized ball and hit fungoes righthanded while throwing the ball up with his right hand-think about that!) in our backyard-we lived on a huge estate where we rented a home with lots of land.

We played wiffleball or tennis ball games with the neighbors kids. I spent hours throwing tennis balls off the side wall of our house-which was brick. Balls would bounce every which way and it was good for developing my fielding-which I didn't know at the time.

My brother and I also pitched to one another, into our one car garage whose rear wall was made of brick. My father's snow tires hung on the wall-just at the right height. Then we would have to hit a ball pitched at the middle of the tire-that was a strike-from about Little League distance-40 feet-without damaging anything in the garage-so what did that teach me? You got it! Hitting right up the middle! Great batting training-and again we didn't know it!

On Saturday mornings in the spring my mother would scream bloody murder about the sounds of the hardballs hitting that wall while she was trying to clean the kitchen!

But back to the epiphany. Again, team baseball with it's uniforms and beautifully groomed fields, were all a mystery to me-I had never seen a game!

Off to Connie Mack we went-against the hated New York Giants. I remember being so excited, yet without any idea of what to expect. I was 10, my brother 7, and we had our gloves-mine was one of those old four finger gloves-remember? Deep brown color-too big for my hand but I was going to catch one of Richie's many foul balls down the left field line.

My father grew up in North Philadelphia, on Allegheny Ave-a stone's throw from Connie Mack and as a youth he was a spectator many times at the old Baker Bowl-he told me later in life, how grimy the structure was there-from the soot spewed by the factories in North Philadelphia. He ended up being an A's fan for the most part-he always said Lefty Grove was the best pitcher ever. Called him "his cousin"! But Connie Mack (we never added "Stadium" in conversation) was big, and clean, and waiting for us that night.

We parked somewhere close by, in our new, two tone 1957 Chevy Station Wagon-pearl top and a light lavender-like color on the bottom. Dad said it had a small caddy engine-we bought it at Reedman's from my dad's brother Marv who worked there. Walked up to the park-Dad paid for the tix and in we went, at the home plate entrance. Got program-cool! No view of the field yet-we were early,so we could see batting practice-until we went through a corridor into a section down the 3rd base line to our seats.

And then baseball exploded into my life!! I was absolutely floored with the palate of colors and the sounds of the ballpark. The green grass so green-the white chalk markings so white-the infield dirt so smooth and brown and being darkened by the ground crew with water, the red Phillies uniforms so strikenly red (still think they are the best home uniforms around)-the colors of the billboards-Ballantines Beer -the colors of the clothing on the people in the stands and the very muted gray uniforms with orange trim of the Giants-how ugly I thought! - the vendors shouting their products-"Hot doggie!" "Hot Doggie!""Get your hot doggie here!" "Ice Cream!" "Ice Cream!" "Choca Vanella ice cream!" "Cold Beer!" "Cold Beer"

The memories of that evening always come flooding back and bring tears to my eyes, for that night, the greatest game came alive to me.

To this day I don't remember who won but I do remember some of the players. For the Phils of course Richie, Granny Hamner at second-he had moved there from short as he got older, and Chico Fernandez was at short-no bat!, Stan Lopata behind the plate (son Tony worked at Prudential with me),-I think Ed Bouchee-the child molester- was at first-Willie "Puddinhead" Jones at third-bad feet and all-his son Ed and I played for Springfield High School years later-when Ed was a soph and I was a senior. Ed was as slow as his Dad and played first-lived at Carson Valley in Flourtown and not with his parents-what a great guy-he went on to coach Springfield's girls to a state championship and he also was the detective shot years ago in a Montco courthouse escorting a dangerous criminal. Curt Simmons, who has owned Limekiln Golf Club along with Robin Roberts all these years-I don't think either one pitched that night-my memory is of Don Cardwell pitching but I don't know if it was in relief or as a starter. Other players that night were Rip Repulski in left-Del Ennis was gone by then-he was a big banger they got from St. Louis I think-slow outfielder, but could hit the long ball. In right was the infamous Bob Bowman who could throw a guy out from the right field wall at home on a line-What a gun!-they even let him throw a couple of pitches-but not much of a hitter. One of the starters not playing, was Harry "the Horse" Anderson, who played first base for the Phils that year. He could hit a moderate long ball-left handed hitter-right handed first baseman-from Delaware and West Chester State Teachers College as it was known back then-my dad liked him and told my brother and I that he played there at West Chester with my cousin Bob Trimble-retired now, from being the AD at Cheltenham High School.

The Giants had Willie Mays of course, and from what I recall, guys like Whitey Lockman-singles hitting first baseman-no McCovey or Cepeda yet-Ray Jablonski at 3rd, Don Mueller in center-he was excellent-boy, the majors had so many good center fielders back then-Mays, Duke Snider, Ashburn, Mueller, Gus Bell, Billy Bruton, Billy Virdon in the NL and of course Mantle, Jimmy Piersall, Minnie Minoso, Roger Maris in Cleveland, in the AL.

Dusty Rhodes still played outfield for them -hero of the '54' World Series, and that night I think we saw Johnny Antonelli pitch-the crafty little left hander who came out of the same bag as Bobby Schantz and Johnny Podres. The Giants were coached by Bill Rigney and of course the Phils still had Mayo Smith!

If I'm not mistaken, the Giants also had Red Schoendienst playing for them-but he might have been traded to Milwaukee-the powerhouse that year.

The Phils (77-77) and the Giants finished about middle of the pack that year but both teams had leaders in stats-Jack Sanford led the Phils with 19 wins and finished second behind Warren Spahn, and he led the league in SOs. Mays of course, was third in runs scored, second in BA, first in slugging, 4th in HRs, first in SBs and on and on. Believe it or not, Ed Bouchee was third in the NL in doubles with 35. My Richie was 5th in hits with 186-his big year was coming-1958- when he beat Mays on last day of season for the batting title with a .350 average.

It was a great year for a young man like me. A life long love affair with the most perfect game ever invented, was begun. The green of the grass and the red Phils uniforms will always be the beginning of my allegiance to the Phils-Of course Dad took us back a number of times over the next few years and I was shaking with excitement each time we went.

Saw the Reds with Frank Robinson, the Cards with Stan the Man, the SF Giants with McCovey, then Cepeda, the Dodgers with Drysdale and Koufax, the Pirates with Clemente and on and on-what a great time to be a Phillies baseball fan!

I'm a Phan forever-win or lose!

by Rick from Horsham, Pa.
submited on 2/3/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.4
License to Suck

Let me preface this by saying that every game I have ever been to of any
Philly sports team has been a loss. I thought maybe I was a jinx for a while, but I firlmly believe we suck at every sport... or Philadelphia just has the worst luck.

I want to say it Sunday October 23 of 2005. I had been to like 3 other Eagles's games in my entire life (all losses) one was that crazy loss to the Niners on Monday night in the 90s. I highly expected them to lose - but whatever - the Chargers I hate the effin Chargers; and the whole freakin dope smoking Left Coast.

I had just been dumped by this girl from La Jolla so I was riled up. I wanted blood. She told me that I was too east coast. What the hell does that mean? Seriously San Diego has nothing to offer the country but a bunch of overpriced real estate on a fault line. They have an an effin zoo i that is run by ex-employees of Neverland Ranch. Need I say more.

Oh but I shall...

Did you ever hear about the Fire Alarm Game. I was there.
The following article is from NBC 10.com.

The term "die-hard Eagles fan" took on new meaning Sunday when a fire alarm went off as the Eagles battled the Chargers at Lincoln Financial Field.

Eagles On TV
In front of 60,000 fans, the Eagles were trailing the Chargers by four points in the last six minutes of the fourth quarter when the alarm sounded.

"This is a fire alarm, not a means of trying to encourage more noise from the fans," radio announcer Merrill Reese told listeners.

But the fans at the Linc wouldn't budge, despite the blaring alarms and a recording telling them to evacuate.

"I was not leaving. I was chanting, 'Hell no, we won't go,'" said Mario Castelli.

"I did hear the fire alarm. But it was funny, all the plays were still going on," said Jason Pulcinski, a fan.

"It was like, really scary, because the place is so big, and you're not sure where to go and everybody was running. We were not sure if it was real or someone pulled the alarms," said Ashley Manning, a concession stand worker.

"They are making an announcement in the stadium. I could have sworn I heard the P.A. person say 'Make your way to an exit.' Meanwhile, no one does," Reese told his radio audience.

"At no time was there a fire situation. We were certain that our guests were safe," said Bonnie Grant, a spokeswoman for the Eagles.

Grant said that a drop in water pressure in the sprinkler system triggered the false alarm and that information was sent quickly to the staff that it was a false alarm.

Without knowing if it was safe or not, fans said that they made a choice to say and watch the Eagles play.

"The stadium is concrete. If there's going to be a fire, what's really going to burn? There's a huge game going on," Pulcinski said.

"Not even a thought to get out of the stadium. Didn't think what it was, didn't care," said Pat Mullen, a fan.

What if there had been a real emergency?

"I would have died, probably in a happy place," Castelli said.

The Eagles said that if there had been a real emergency, the Eagles vision screens would have displayed information on what to do and play on the field would stop.

WTF. I LEFT. I THOUGHT THERE WAS A FIRE. I MEAN
WOULDN'T YOU? THE EAGLES EFFIN WON, BUT I DIDN'T SEE IT!!!!

by Sid from Camden, NJ
submited on 2/2/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.46
Joe F****n Carter
Enough said. I literally dropped my beer along with my jaw. by Jeff from Pottstown, Pa
submited on 1/31/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.5
Some Wings Love

Perhaps no team in the city has a better success rate than the Wings. I was a season ticket holder in the 90's and was fortunate enough to see the team go to the finals in my first year as a season ticket holder. Our seats were 14 rows up, right on the blue line if it was a hockey game. The final were against the hated Buffalo Bandits that year. i'll never forget it, the wings lead by 2 with less than 3 minutes left, (unfortunately, that's a lifetime in indoor lacrosse) and Buffalo stormed back with 2 late goals against our beloved Dallas Eliuk (The only time you'll here Dallas and beloved in the same entance from a Philadelphia fan) in goal to end regulation in a tie.

Not more than 10 seconds into ovewrtime that bastard JohnTavares scores the winning goal and we have to watch the bright vomit orange jerseys celebrate. I don't know which hurt more, me seeing the Wings lose the championship here at home or watching Joe f'n Carte hit that home run on TV.

by Jeff from Pottstown, Pa
submited on 1/31/2007
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Ave Rating:
4
MAKE IT CHUNKY
I had a hookup with a marketing firm that was doing business at the Superbowl when the Eagles lost. Words couldn't describe the feeling of seeing Donovan coming off one of his best seasons -suddenly choking like he never played before(-watching Ohio State's Troy Smith choke brought back the memory sans the vomit). But after the game, since we had on field passes, we went on the field after all the players had left. The cleanup crews were starting. I walked over to were Donovan had thrown up his chunky soup and by that time it looked like congealed cottage cheese in the green grass. I looked at it like it was some potential memento to snatch up like those Beatle fans did back in the day when the Beatles came to Shea Stadium and the tore up the grass. A sick thought crossed my mind -picking up some man's vomit that contributed to his inability to lead his team to victory. I wish I had a digital camera back then. I would of sold the photo on ebay. It was a surreal moment in time.
by G from columbus,ohio
submited on 1/31/2007
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Ave Rating:
1
93 Phitin Phills

Why do I still follow the Phillies?....I can't really explain but I'm sure it has a lot to do with the feeling I got durring the run in 93. Sitting along the 3rd base line durring a home game of the World Series is one of my favorite sports memories of all time. Through all of the bad...its all worth it for moments like that

by Andy from Phoenixville
submited on 1/31/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.64
Absolutely, Positively, Stunning (Part 1 of 3)

It was absolutely, positively, stunningly, the most breathtaking thing of beauty I had ever seen. Not that I had seen very much for I was only 6 years old in June of 1954. My mother had died in 1953 and my father was dying in an Army TB hospital in Virginia. I was living with my grandparents and I had just completed 1st grade at Visitation BVM grade school in my Kensington neighborhood.

As a graduation present my Nana had promised to take me on a special trip. "But where are we going, Nana?" I said. "You'll see" she said as she took 2 pieces of paper from a splinter of a telephone pole at Kensington Avenue & Somerset Street. We used this to get on the #54 trolley. I later came to know that those pieces of paper were called "transfers" and it would allow one who paid a fare at the beginning of a trip on the PTC (Philadelphia Transportation Company, now SEPTA) to change trolleys (or busses, subway or "The El") and continue their trip. If you ended your trip and no longer needed your "transfer", the neighborhood tradition was to stick it in the splinter on the telephone pole to allow another neighbor to ride the next leg for free. Everybody knew this and it was accepted as a common practice of the day (probably my first introduction to "sticking it to the man"). This process was formally known as "shooting a transfer" and would later become a very valuable piece of information to me in my future endeavors.

We boarded the trolley and it went south on Kensington Avenue to Lehigh Avenue where it turned right. "Look Nana, there's my school" I said. So far, the trolley took the exact route that I took when I walked to school. Silently, I smiled to myself that I would no longer be walking to school on those rainy or cold days since I now knew about the "shooting a transfer" rule. Finally the trolley (by now, quite crowded) stopped at 21st Street and Nana and I, along with almost everybody else, got off. "Hold my hand, Charley, and don't let go" grandmother ordered. Good idea, I thought, because there were more people than I had ever seen in one place walking around. The men, most in coat and ties and Stetson hats all seemed to be smiling. A few ladies, dressed as if for Sunday Mass also milled about. We were in front of the biggest building I had ever seen. It stretched up Lehigh Ave. and down 21st St. for as far a a 6 year old could see.

In no time flat I realized that I was about to see my 1st Phillies game at Connie Mack Stadium (aka Shibe Park). Through the turnstiles we went, up a set of stairs, and a tunnel appeared before us. I remember a peculiar odor that I later came to know is universal among big league parks; it was a delightful combination of peanuts, popcorn and beer. Nana was no match as I broke loose from her grip and bolted to the front of the tunnel. At the end, I stopped dead in my tracks!

It was absolutely, positively, stunningly, the most breathtaking greenest grass I could have ever imagined. So green, so beautiful, so breathtaking was the playing field that today, 50+ years later, I still haven't ever seen anything that would compare. The game? I can't remember if my Fightins' won or lost but Whitey made a "helluva catch" (Nana's words) in center field and thus began a lifelong love affair between me and The Philadelphia Phillies.

I became a regular at Connie Mack Stadium that season due to the transfer shooting thing. Nana thought I was a few blocks away at the playground but my adventurers continually led me back to the ballpark. I had no money, of course. I could get there for free but then I was on my own. 6 year old boys are pretty agile and fast....no match, I learned, for pre-occupied ticket takers at the turnstiles. I would bolt through, run like heck and get lost in the crowd. In short order, I would be sitting with my glove in hand with the rich people in the box seats by the dugout.

After the game was over, getting home was a challenge since there was no telephone pole full of free transfers at 21st & Lehigh. There were, however, crowds in which a little squirt like me could get lost. The trolleys had a back door that would open if a passenger stepped on the treadle so they could get off. As the "paying" riders were occupying the drivers attention, I would stand by the back door and signal to people that were already on that I had no money by pulling my pockets inside out and sadly looking up to them. Invariably, someone would activate the back door by stepping on the treadle and I would sneak on and go home. I saw many, many Phillies games in this manner as well as many Philadelphia Athletics games since they also shared the field at Shibe Park. I can remember vividly, sitting near enough to the dugout to watch and hear the "Tall Tactician", the great Connie Mack, bark orders to his fielders from the step at the top of the dugout.

I didn't realize it at the time, buIt I was learning some of the nuances of baseball strategy from one of the greatest of all time. I'm sure glad that I passed muster in 1st grade because that first trip surely was the seed that grew into a lifelong love of the chess game we call baseball.

by Charles from Willow Grove
submited on 1/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.62
Welcome to Celebrate 10,000

Fan - an enthusiastic devotee, follower, or admirer of a sport.
Phan - an enthusiastic devotee, follower, or admirer of a Philadelphia sports team who posses loyalty, passion, and craze.

Ask anyone who the most passionate fans are and you will always hear Philadelphia near the top of that list for every sport. Not too many cities can say that for every sport. The Lakers have passionate fans but do the LA Kings? Year in and year out us Phans are special. We don’t like mediocrity, yet for the past 24 years we have been struggling to win a championship. I say we stop worrying about that for a little bit. We have the WORST team in history playing right here every summer.


When you think of the Phillies, what’s the first thing that comes to mind? Joe Carter? The Vet? 1964? The seemingly endless memories of going to the game and baking in the sun to watch a team play so poorly. When I first saw that the Phils would hit 10,000 Losses, I tried to ignore it. But after thinking about it, something struck me. We are the best Phans in the world. Here we are supporting a team that has more losses then any other team in history. Every year the words “pitchers and catchers report” brings new hope for a fresh start, and a chance. Every spring Tug’s memory of “You Gotta believe” rings in my head. And that’s the thing; you gotta believe. If you don’t and you jump on the bandwagon when they are winning then you are not a true Phan Are we just normal fans, for the most part yes. But a substantial amount of people who follow sports teams are legitimately loyal Phans. These are the people, (that when the team is 30 games under .500, will still work an ump because he blew a call or will boo a rookie playing in his first game when he boots a ball.

You know why Allen Iverson, Lenny Dykstra, John Kruk, and Bobby Clark are so loved by us in Philadelphia. Because we could tell they cared. That is the basis of our loyalty. Winning championships is great( I think… I am not old enough to know one yet) but knowing that an athlete is genuinely doing all he can all the time is what we look for.

The logic does not work. Why do we do the same thing year in and year out? Passion. That’s why we do it every year. It has been a long time since a championship, a lifetime for some. But does the passion change after we win one…do we love out teams any less or more , will we not be as passionate as we were the year before we win one….I don’t think so. I am not saying that our passion and our love is unconditional, that would be crazy(. But what….) but what I am saying is that we need to realize that we are lucky. Some of you may think that I am not a true Phan. That the only successful season is a championship. Like Ricky Bobby once said “if your not first, your last.” I have managed to live without a championship my entire life. Do I want one…..hell yeah….but that does not change my memories of going to the Vet with my dad, stopping at Chubby’s or Delseandros before the games to get a steak, or learning the game from my dad as we sat in “our seats”.


One of the most beloved teams in our sports history was the 2001 Sixers. I was at game 5 when the Lakers took their 4th straight victory and crushed out hopes again. We cheered our Sixers. We cheered them losing in the NBA Finals. Why? Because we knew that they left everything out on the floor. Rocky lost in the first movie, but why do people cheer for him? The situation is the same. We did not cheer them losing, we cheered the run. I would take 1000 losses in a championship game then to have 1 Championship were I did not get to enjoy the run. If I could magically wave a wand and make everyone forget the 1980 Phillies run and just remember Tugger striking out Wilson would it mean as much? Your lying if you say yes. Because it’s the championship that makes it cherished but it’s the run that makes it memorable.

To this day I will never forget the 1993 season. I will never forget my cousin giving me her game 6 ticket in the NLCS because she felt bad that I did not have one. I will never forget the players drinking beer in the dugout before the final out was recorded. I will never forget Danny Jackson ripping his shirt off on the mound. I will never forget standing on an ambulance after the game screaming “ F the Braves” only to have a Braves wife say to me “ why cant you leave them alone, they just lost?” for me to reply simply ”Cause your in Philadlephia lady”. It’s because of memories like this that the name “ Joe Carter” sends a chill down my spine when I hear it. Without the memories it would just be another losing season. 99.9% look at that season as the same as any other season except 1980. They did not win. Can any of you tell me what the last play was of the ’94 season? How about the ’99 season? The last play of the ’93 seaon? Of course, Joe Carter’s home run. I remember where I was. Do you?

This website is not about celebrating the Phillies 10000th loss. It’s about celebrating the Phans. Were the ones who suffer the most. Lets celebrate each other because without each other we would be watching the games alone, high fiving the wall. Let’s make sure we keep our presence known. Let’s continue to let our players know that we demand hard work, loyalty, and dedication. If you take a day off and lollygag, we will boo you. If you make a fundamental mistake, we will boo you. If you think you better then us, we will boo you. But if you care, if you really care, and you embrace us as Phans, then we will give something far better then a ring. We will give you love. And that’s why names like A.I., the Dude, Krukker, and Rocky will always draw a heartfelt memory and smile when their name is mentioned. And why names like Lindros, T.O., and Ricky Waters will always bring a frown and curse when mentioned.


So please help me celebrate all the Phans. Submit your stories here for all to see. I want to know how you felt after a significant loss or why you still follow the Phils after all these dreadful years. Trust me when you write a story like this you can’t help but get the chills.

And always remember Real Phans Love Their Losers!

Charley DeBow
Founder of celebrate10000.com

by Charley from Willow Grove
submited on 1/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.61
Absolutely, Positively, Stunning (Part 3 of 3)

It's Christmas day, 1967 and I'm in the chow line for dinner at the mess hall at Phan Rang Air Base, Republic of Vietnam. My first copy of the Sunday Inquirer had mot yet arrived. I think I was the only guy in Vietnam to have The Inky delivered. It came about 2 weeks late, but it kept me up to date on Philadelphia goings on, especially the Phillies. I hadn't yet made any real friends here yet because I only arrived in-counrty a week or so ago.

In Philly at Christmas it's cold and I'm smilin'. In Nam at Christmas it's sweaty hot and I'm frownin'. I hear a voice from behind......."Ya know what, Charley. YOU'RE PHILLIES STILL SUCK"!! I immediately recognized my old nemesis Flannery's voice and I turned to him, my frown turned to a smile, we shook hands and have good been friends ever since. In April, 1968, still in Vietnam, I missed The Phillies Opening Day for the first time since I got that Bulletin paper route in 1960. Haven't missed one since!! Oh yeah, we lost the war.....and way too many kids of my generation. Many who did come back were never right again. Kind of puts a loss by The Fightin's in perspective. At least it does for me.

By October 1, 1970 I was just discharged from the Air Force and I attended the last Phillies game at Connie Mack Stadium. As I walked through that same tunnel that I had walked through 16 years earlier, the same smile I had in 1954 was back on my face. I couldn't help but remember that first time I ever laid eyes on that beautiful, glen-plaid cut, green green grass of home. That ever-present odor had become a smell and the plant & equipment were crumbling like the neighborhood in which it stood. Paid a quarter to a neighborhood kid to "watch your car, mister? It was a sad, sad day for me. Many, many great memories though. I'd have trouble remembering all of the future Hall of Famers I had the privelage to see in person, and a little coaxing will bring back into crisp focus fond memories of towering home runs, no-hitters, impossible catches and crisp double, and triple, plays. I remember with a smile the foul balls that would disappear over the infield roof down the lines, only to reappear, two sections down, as the ball rolled over the edge of the pitched roof. The sheer excitement of an inside-the-park home run or a game winning walk-off homer cannot be duplicated in any other sport. It was a sad, sad day when I finally turned my back on that still absolutely, positively, stunningly most breathtaking green grass that was personal field of dreams. A sad day, indeed.

Opening Day on April 10, 1971 was very much anticipated by me and every other true Philadelphian, Phillies Phan or not. I made it a point to walk in directly behind home plate, just as I always had done at Shibe Park, to get my first glimpse of The Phillies new crib. It was absolutely, positively, stunningly the most breathtaking PLASTIC baseball field I had ever seen. Didn't like it then....never changed my mind.....and I was glad when they closed it. My distaste for the stadium, of course, did not affect my continuing love affair with my Phillies and the fact is that I've seen the vast majority of my in person games at Veterans Stadium.

Especially memorable were the teams of the late '70s, and of course the hands down best of all was my birthday present from The Fightin' Phils on October 21, 1980. What an exciting experience. By then I had full season tickets and got to go to every home playoff and World Series game. I've got my ticket back from that game. The Phillies arranged to encase the season ticket stub in an acrylic #1, and sent it to us as a Christmas present. It is one of my most precious posessions as a remembrance of the first World Series victory of my beloved Phillies since 1915. Incidentally, the March 21, 2004 "Implosion" was a thing of beauty.....good riddence. It was a happy day for me. Make that a GREAT day!

On April 12, 2004, I entered Citizens Bank Park on opening day and true to my form, immediately walked in behind home plate for my first view of the infield. It was ALMOST, positively, absolutely, stunningly the most breathtakingly beautiful green grass that I had ever seen!

Sometime during this summer, I'll be among the thousands in the stands to "CELEBRATE 10,000"! You see, "Real Phans Love Their Losers" and this diehard Phan treasures EVERY Phillies game I've ever attended!

by Charles from Willow Grove
submited on 1/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
5.18
Absolutely, Positively, Stunning (Part 2 of 3)

Ten years later, on the day after labor Day, 1964, I began my Senior year at Bishop McDevitt High School where my reputation as the schools #1 Phillies Phan was well established. By now, I had season tickets to every Sunday afternoon game, purchased with earnings from my Evening Bulletin paper route. At least I was finally paying my own way into the park. I did, however, continue to improve my seating arrangements at every game by dutifully studying for empty seats and then moving closer and closer to the action. (Today, we are in The Diamond Club seats so I don't have to do that anymore. I do however have a soft spot in my heart when a kid sneaks in and sits near me. When the usher tries to roust them, I usually vouch for them and the usher leaves them alone. Often, I'll even pop for a hot dog and coke for one of the "crashers").

The Fightin' Phil's were solidly in 1st place in the National League and I was World Series bound. Life was good. By the middle of September, I even had my world Series tickets in my hands.

(fill in blank....too painful for me)

I felt terrible! I didn't want to get up and I certainly did not want to go to school the day after the Phillies lost the Pennant. Cutting school wasn't an option in my house though so off I went.

At least my classmates all would understand and comfort me, I thought, and every one of them did.......EXCEPT Flannery!! "Ya know what, Charley? YOUR PHILLIES SUCK!!". "Ya know what, Flannery? YOUR ASS IS MINE"!! I was on him like a fly on do-do. Books and desks and fists flew. Half my class was pulling me off of him while the other half continued to kick his ass! Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Horn, marched us both up to Father Steffe's office. Fr. Steffe (I knew he was a Phillies Phan) was our disciplinarian and his office was well known to me from various prior indescretions. Told by Mr. Horn of our antics, Father admonished Flannery in a way that only a fellow Phillies Phan could appreciate and then demanded that Flannery apologize to me. After Flannery mumbled a feignt apology, Fr. Steffe told Flannery to "Go home and don't come back without your father......you're suspended"! After Flannery left the room, Father said to me "I feel your pain, Charley. I really do. Flannery's going to get another ass kicking when he gets home. Now get cleaned up and go back to class". I re-entered homeroom to a rousing standaing ovation! I felt Great!!

by Charles from Willow Grove
submited on 1/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
4.58
Texas Stadium, October 9, 2005

The setting: Texas Stadium, October 9, 2005. Eagles at Dallas.

Let me just start the story by saying that the Eagles were favored to win this game, no problem. So, I was prepared to watch a nice, relaxing game and also to do a little (ok a lot) of trash talking when we won. Well, like the rest of our 2005 season, the game didn’t quite go as planned.

As the game went on and it became quite evident that the Eagles were going to lose, I decided to drown my sorrows in alcohol. Lots of it. A warning to any Eagles fans that venture to Texas Stadium: stay away from the Cowboy-ritas; they are lethal. If this level of intoxication had occurred at the Linc, it would have been fine; no one would have even noticed. But, at Texas Stadium, such things are frowned upon.

“How bad was it?” you may ask. Well, let’s just recap the day’s events:

  • Start tailgating at approximately noon, consuming multiple beers
  • Go inside Texas Stadium, where more beers and 2 Cowboy-ritas are purchased. For those that don’t know, Cowboy-ritas are frozen margaritas, in a yard glass. Yes, 3’ of tequila.
  • Swear like a sailor in front of then-boyfriend (now fiancÚ’s) parents and cousin
  • Get into a fight with Rowdy, the Cowboy’s lame-ass mascot. I mean seriously, a cartoon-like Cowboy is the best they could come up with? After a face-to-cartoon face confrontation in the stands, Rowdy proceeds to taunt me from the sidelines.
  • As we leave the game, Cowboys vehicle magnets are passed out to fans. Do I accept one? Of course not! Does my boyfriend’s dad? “Yes, I’ll take 2 please!”
  • At the car, after boyfriend’s dad has affixed Cowboys magnets to the car, tries to get me to eat some food. Clearly, I need it to help sober me up. How do I respond? “I don’t want any of your shitty barbeque.”
  • As we are packing up the car, I am sitting in the back seat, drinking yet more beer. At some point I decide that I absolutely cannot ride in a car with not only Cowboys magnets, but also 2 Cowboys flags in the windows.
  • I somehow find the car keys, climb into the driver’s seat, start the car, and roll down the 2 back windows so I can remove the offensive flags.
  • When we got back to the house, I threatened to take a cab to the airport and just wait there overnight for our flight. Clever.

So, ladies, there you have it. A list of what NOT to do in front of a boyfriend’s family. Although, for some crazy reason, he did end up asking me to marry him. Now he will have a lifetime of saying “Hands-off fellas, that crazy, 5’1” little girl with the angel face and a mouth like a trucker is with me.”

Signed,
Sal (my alter ego)

by Sal from Northeast
submited on 1/30/2007
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Ave Rating:
3.6
My First Monday Night Football Experience

When I was about 14 years old, my dad an I went to the eagles cowboys Monday night game at the Vet. We were sitting in the 700 level. Sitting about 5 row's below us was a boy and his father. The father was wearing a Cunningham jersey and his son (about 9 or 10) was wearing a troy aikman jersey. In the third quarter the cowboys scored and the kid wearing the aikman jersey was cheering while everyone was booing him and the cowboys.

Sitting about 2 or three rows above him this drunk ass guy threw his beer on the kid. The dad of the kid, obviously pissed off at both the cowboys scoring and this asshole pouring a beer on his kid turned around and said some shit to the drunk guy. Well...the drunk guy proceeded to jump over the people in front of him and punch the father of the boy in the face, ending up in a 4 or 5 person brawl.

I tell this story quite a bit when other fans try to say how good of fan they are. However, I am not sure whether to categorize eagles fans as true hardcore fans or just plain a** holes... either or I'm a die hard eagles fan/a**hole to the bone.

by Ryan from Gwynedd Valley
submited on 1/30/2007
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