May 2006
Cole Hamels
Cole Hamels, the young rookie Phillies phenom pitcher who will become a better ballplayer than Nolan Ryan, Steve Carlton and the incarnation of The Holy Spirit, all rolled into one.
Right.
Listen, I’m a Phillies phan. I’ve grown accustomed to disappointment they way people aquire tastes for straight scotch, black coffee or broccoli rabe.
I accept disappointment in the Taoist sense. I am a part of it, and it is a part of me. I’ve seen teams full of promise fall as flat as one Star Jones’ seat cushions. I’ve seen Bobby Abreu hit a year’s worth of dingers in the All-Star home-run contest; the rest of the season he swung a bat like he was striking a pinata.
I’ve seen David Bell try to take third base with two outs in a game the Phillies were losing. I still blame him for the Phillies missing the playoffs last year.
I am not a man and fan full of hate. I love my Phillies. And I love them enough to accept them for who they are and what they’ve done to me over the years.
Which leads me to Cole Hamels. By all means, he appears to be the real deal. In his first major leauge appearance last week, he was a force. But I think the Phillies brought him up too early. A young pitcher needs to be nursed. One bad major leauge outing early in a career can ruin a pitcher for life, moreso than any other position in any sport.
So I will root for Hames. And I will second guess the Phillies. And I will watch each game, through each year, waiting for a sign that this is THE YEAR. Back in the World Series in 1993, I thought this "sign" was called destiny.
But it’s not called destiny.
It’s called endurance.
We play the Brewers Tuesday. What does that mean? Bad News to the Brewers
I unfortunately missed today’s game because I had to work. I have nothing insightful, clever, witty or insightful to say. So in lieu of that, I’ll go completly random.
The best quote from the Bad News Bears is in the last inning when Walter Matthau decides all the bench warmers are going to play.
Lupas, the little blonde kid, doesn’t want to go in the game.
Matthau turns to Lupas and says: "Listen Lupas, you didn’t come into this life just to sit around on a dugout bench, did you? Now get out there and do the best you can."
When I think Reds, I think Pete Rose
Hopefully, the Fightins’ will rally around their rain-soaked win last night in five innings. Now they play the Reds. When I think Reds, I think Pete Rose. I think Topps baseball cards with Pete Rose and his "player/manager status," which I still don’t understand.
And I think Gary Redus. I just like his name. It sounds like the punchline to a dirty joke.
(Ode to Mitch: "I know however good I get at tennis, I will never be as good as a wall. I played the wall once. It was relentless.")
Rowand
Aaron Rowand hits the wall in centerfield, catches what amounts to be a game-saving catch, breaks his nose and has his career in Philadelphia set. The day before, a ball pelts his knuckles and he continues playing. I questioned getting rid of Jim Thome, who was an all out gamer. But receiving Rowand in return quelled my uncertainty. Now if he can only lead the Phillies the way Darren Daulton or Lenny Dykstra did back in good old ’93. This team has long needed a leader. Jimmy Rollins, Chase Utley, Bobby Abreau, Ryan Howard—these guys are all great players but have lacked leadership ability. For the past few years, the Phillies have been a team with potential but without heart.
But this year, I’m seeing potential.
Maybe this year, the Phillies won’t break my heart.
(Ode to Pete Incavaglia)
(Ode to Mitch Hedberg: "Whenever I shave, I assume there’s someone else on the planet shaving so I say, ‘I’m going to shave, too."
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