Results tagged ‘ Ricky Bottalico ’
For the second year in a row, I woke up with a bit of sadness knowing I would have to leave Camp by day’s end. But I had to keep telling myself that this was going to be the perfect way to end the trip… hanging out at Bright House Field all day, soaking up the warm January sun in Florida, taking the field and playing against ex-Phillies player… this would be one helluva birthday.
All packed up and ready to go, I made my way down for an early breakfast. As per the Camp schedule, the four teams that ended in the top of the standings had to take the first bus to the Carpenter Complex. This not only meant I would get to see the Complex one more time in all it’s early morning glory, but our team would be facing a Legends team at full strength.
These guys have to play 10 teams, at three innings a piece. That’s 30 innings of baseball. Sure, they aren’t really breaking a sweat against us Campers, but still, that’s a lot of baseball. And by the time 2-3:00 rolls around, you can see it. Some just don’t play at all due to past injuries, some leave a little early, some take themselves out midway through the day. The Drillers were scheduled to play fourth, so the Legends should be nice and loose by the time we got on the field.
I decided to forgo the normal t-shirt that I wore underneath my jersey everyday, and sport this little number (from Philavania.com) that I got for Christmas, courtesy of my best friends. This was definitely getting laughs around the locker room.
A few last minute pictures and several “well, if I don’t see you later, it was great meeting/seeing you again” moments.
On my way over to Bright House Field, I walked with my teammate Paul Kirsch and Scott Eyre. Scott was telling us how much fun he had and how happy he was when ESF asked him back. He brought his young son once again, and they both had a blast.
Instead of walking up to the left field pavilion like we did every morning, we were allowed to enter the park through the batting tunnels, underneath the stands, and onto leftfield. As we reached the entrance to the tunnels, we came across two large ice storage bins. Scott stopped us and told us of a story about a time when he came down to Clearwater for a couple rehab games in August when he was with the Phillies. The weather was brutal; easily near 100 degrees with an equal amount of humidity. He was done for the day and couldn’t take it any more. He opened the door to the ice container, and proceeded to put his entire body inside. The fans on the stairway above were howling with laughter.
It’s stories like that that make me wish Scott was a Phillie lifer, and not a journeyman who only spent two years with the club. His myth would be legendary. Either way, his kindness and energy are exactly what the Camp strives for, so it doesn’t matter how long he was with the Phils. He’s perfect.
Past the batting tunnels and under the stands we went.
There is definitely a joke in this last picture somewhere.
I let Paul and Scott continue on to the field so I could take in this little moment of solitude. It was like something out of a movie or beer commercial. I’ve seen similar images a million times, but to experience this person… it’s baseball heaven.
I let myself have a little two-second fantasy, pretending I was some rookie getting called up for my first game in the show, entering the park for early-morning batting practice…
*cue dramatic music*
That was nice.
The entrance let me out in the foul territory next to leftfield.
Again, I’m all by myself. I hear faint voices coming from the infield and the occasional echoing crack of a bat.
People love to fall asleep to CD’s filled with gentle nature sounds like rain or waterfalls. I would have this on repeat all night.
I leisurely made my way to the dugout area to relax, chat, and take in the early games.
This day is extra special because Campers will bring their families in to the park, hang out on the field and dugout, and get autographs and pictures taken with all the ex-Phillies players. It’s the last, fun-filled hurrah before we all fade in to that baseball sunset.
And once again, I am reminded of the power of baseball and family… the Cutler men sitting together in the stands, taking in the scenery. The dugout filled with Norman Rockwellian moments… my teammate Ed and his son, Greg, side by side. Sam showing his boy the benefits of being a left-hander, the Mongeluzis in a sweet embrace…
There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to have my dad there with me to enjoy this day.
The third game was coming to an end, so it was time for us to get ourselves ready. Larry Andersen joined in for some catch with some of my teammates.
We would be batting first, so let’s go to the big board for the introductions by longtime Phillies P.A. announcer, Dan Baker!
Well, they got my new number correct, but they still used my old #31 in addition to last year’s photo. I’m surprised the board didn’t break with my face being up there for so long. And even though Stack was not there in attendance, his picture was not shown. And where was Steely Dave, our MVP?! I wonder if the person running the video board was that same guy I saw doing tequila shots the night before at the hotel bar?
At least the lineup card would be fine. Wait a minute, is my name spelled wrong? *sigh*
We would be facing Ricky Bottalico today. Oh boy.
Of all the Legends at Camp, he definitely comes to the filed with the intention of winning. He gives us a REAL Major League Baseball experience. We take our first at-bats and Ricky Bo is throwing gas.
And just like that, we take our positions in the field. Before I go any further, let me explain the rules to these games:
- Games are three innings.
- Legends are only allowed to score two runs maximum in a given inning, no matter how many outs there are.
- Campers can field their entire team at once. That means multiple outfielders.
- If, by the last inning, a Camper has not batted, the inning continues until everyone has had a chance, no matter how many outs there are.
Howie and I agree to split the catching duties. He said he’ll take the first and I’ll come in for the second inning. I told him that I’ll also be catching the third since we WILL be holding the Legends going in to the bottom of the third. He smiles and gives me a “hell yeah!”
John Ashcom takes the mound and I run out to my normal softball position, right-centerfield. I have another little moment, taking in my incredible surroundings. I’m playing on Bright House Field! This is not getting old. At all.
First up is The Krukker. And like he somehow knew I was wearing a t-shirt bearing his image, he sends a fly ball directly at me. Putout. I’ve never been so nervous setting up to catch a ball. I did NOT want to drop this one.
Ash made it a 1-2-3 inning as he got Jim Eisenreich and Mickey Mornadini to ground out to Dave Mongeluzi at first base for two consecutive, unassisted outs. Dave looked like Keith Hernandez, complete with impeccable trimmed facial hair, smoothly fielding both shots by the ex-Phillies.
We were unable to knock in a run in the top of the second, however, the highlight was easily Howie’s at-bat. Rick had asked me to document his son’s time at the plate, and he did not disappoint. He ripped a shot down the first base line for a triple. My camera caught ever step of the way. After Howie got a congratulatory high five from Tommy Greene, he tossed the ball in to the dugout for prosperity. What a thrill for the Cutlers.
It was my turn to don the catcher’s gear. Now it felt like a dream. There I am, situated next to former Phillies, catching pitches thrown to them as they try and defeat my team. Seriously, where am I?! The last time I was in this situation, I was in my backyard about 25 years ago with a few friends from grade school. The Phillies were there… in spirit.
Just like the first, we get out of the inning leaving the Legends scoreless. My overly optimistic prediction had come true. I would be catching the third inning. The Legends were against the ropes!
Fellow New Yorker, Dave Horowitz, starts off the inning with a single. Everybody hits woo hoo! He quickly breaks Camp rules and swipes second. Our excitement is overflowing. The Legends let it go and leave him be on second. Eventually my spot in the lineup comes up.
Ricky Bo ‘s pitches come in fast, but nice and straight. I work two balls, but hell if I’m going to walk in this game. I start thinking of the advice imparted to me before I went up to bat. David Mongeluzi, Dave’s son, had once again approached me to help me with my swing. This time, he told me to position myself towards the back of the plate. I told him it probably isn’t going to matter.
I was right. I could have been sitting back 70 feet 6 inches and I still would have been late on these pitches. Whiff. Thanks for the advice David, but I have no chance against 80+ MPH pitches. Like I always love to say, you can’t polish a turd.
That’s OK, I was looking more towards the bottom of the third. Could the Drillers join a very elite group of teams to finish the Legends game in a tie?
Ricky Bo leads off the inning and, like every one of his at-bats, he wants to crush the ball. He rips a single, and, not to be outdone, promptly steals second base. Tit for tat. I can respect that.
Legend after Legend comes to the plate. Eventually Ricky Bo makes it to third, but does not score. Dave Horowitz fielded a ground ball at third, looked Ricky back and threw to first. Ricky did not budge.
The inning reaches its dramatic apex. Bases are loaded. One out. Mickey Morandini at the dish. A single or sacrifice fly will end this game. We needed a double play, or at least a strike out. Since that would be a sure-fire impossibility, we would have to depend on our gloves to end the game. Mickey works the count, then hits a grounder to Steely Dave who is now playing first. I immediately take my position at home. He throws a strike to me. One out.
Now I had to make another very tough throw down the line, back to Steely Dave to complete the 3-2-3 double play. Unlike my play from the first game, this throw went off target. I saw it go wide, but he stretched out with all his might. The ball hit his glove, but it tipped out. He quickly gathered it up and tagged the base just before Mickey’s foot hit the bag. Two outs. Game over.
We did it. Not only did we tie the Legends, but we held them to no runs. We gathered around each other in the infield and celebrated like we just won the World Series.
We came back to the dugout. Mike Lieberthal, Kevin Stocker, and our player rep Joe were beaming, giving us high fives, telling us what a great job we all did. It was a truly special moment.
In all my years of playing sports, this was easily the greatest couple days of my baseball “career”. And to think my defense would come in to the play to end the game… my dad would have been so proud.
Now it was time to relax in the dugout and have fun.
I stayed to watch the next game in which Sam was playing and take some more pictures.
Afterwards I headed to lunch with Dave Horowitz, then back to the clubhouse to get myself cleaned up. I would have plenty of time before the first shuttle to the airport, so I returned to the stands to watch more of the games.
I came across rookie Camper Ron DiBiase. Ron’s brother-in-law had attended Phantasy Camp in the past, so he had an idea what to expect. However, he did stumble upon my blog earlier in the year. We struck up an ongoing conversation on email. This fellow drummer had also recently lost his father and was having very similar feelings about Camp. We bonded about our losses, but also reveled in the excitement of the upcoming Camp. His entire family joined him for the award banquet and the Legends game. I have a feeling I looked like Ron last year. Every day I saw him, he had the widest of smiles and a look of complete awe. He just could not believe what was gong on around him. I spoke to him after lunch and he could not stop talking about how much fun he had. I’m also considering hiring Ron as my P.R. man, as he had no problem telling anyone in earshot about my blog. I think he knows the details better than I do!
I turned my attention back to the games.
I happened to catch the previous night’s Maje McDonnell Award winner, Craig Gerhart take his at-bat. I was really looking forward to this moment. The award Craig won was for “the player who has the personality, plus is a class both on and off the field”. If Ron was the epitome of a happy Phantasy Camper, Craig probably should have been tested for an illegal amount of performance-enhancing giddiness. His daughter had given the Camp experience to her father as a gift for thanking him for all the love and care he had given to her mother during her bout with breast cancer. He was on cloud nine for the entire Camp. He said hello to every single Camper, asking them if they were having fun, while proudly showing off his glove… the same one he used as a child over 50 years ago. His enthusiasm and love for life was infectious. Larry Andersen kept tabs on him, constantly marveling at his happiness, almost to the point of annoyance. Of course, he was kidding.
Craig came up to plate against Andersen. He sent a shot over the second basemen’s head, and the purposeful slow play in the field allowed Craig to move up a base for a double. He jumped up and down like a little boy. He hugged L.A.. He gave high fives to anyone within reach. That smile never faded.
I regret not taking a portrait of Craig during Camp. Craig, if you read this, I still want that photograph!
Later on, I got to see Martha Eyerly, the lone female player of the Camp, take her swings. She also got hold of one and sent it in to the outfield. Like with Craig, the Legends moved a little slow, “misplaying” the ball, throwing it away at each base. As Martha rounded third, L.A. then purposely threw the ball into the dugout. Martha made a big slide into home, plating two runs. The Legends “lost” this game, 2-1.
That’s what Phantasy Camp is all about.
And with that, I walked to the bus that would take me to the airport. Once again, I would leave with all my baseball fantasies realized, and go home to the loving arms of my wife.
Baseball is not just a child’s game. It can do wonders for one’s soul. I came out of this Camp filled with absolute joy.
My dad was truly with me again.
You can read about Day Five from last year’s Phillies Phantasy Camp here.
Like last year, this blog is not finished. There will be plenty of updates, including interviews with Campers, and two reunion events including the big one in August where I will take the field at Citizens Bank Park before the Phillies game that evening. So keep checking back and thank you much for reading!
My father always preached to me that if you have consumed a decent amount of alcohol in a given night, in addition to drinking a lot of water, ALWAYS take two aspirin before your head hits the pillow to prevent any morning uneasiness. It never fails. Thus, my morning started out great… other than the fact it was 6:30 AM.
A good breakfast and incredible weather got the day off on the right foot. As I waited to board the bus, I ran out to the back of the hotel to catch the sun rising.
I exited the lobby and was greeted by this automobile. I was really hoping this was the “veteran bus”.
Even though it’s been a year since last Camp, the bus ride over to the Carpenter Complex was as familiar to me as the back of my hand. The veteran bus I rode on pulled in to the parking lot and I immediately got chills. The sun rising over Mike Schmidt Field every single morning, casting the most beautiful shadows over immaculate diamonds is a nothing short of miracle.
As we came off the bus, a sandwich board directed us to the other entrance to the clubhouse. We would not be experiencing the pomp and circumstance like the rookies, but that’s OK. This is THEIR moment.
As the rookies were listening to Scott Palmer’s emotional speech and the voice of Dan Baker reading off their names outside, I made my way to my locker and found my brand new uniform. I’m so happy this moment did not lose any of it’s luster. I still got goosebumps seeing that crisp and perfect jersey.
I had some time to take a breath and get ready to greet the rookies when they entered. I started hearing laughing and went to investigate. Ike Reese’s locker had already been targeted for some good old-fashioned hazing.
I was then instructed to take my place and welcome the rookies. The looks on their faces as we clapped and cheered for them… I know that very well. That gave me so much joy to be a part this special moment for them. Every single one of them looked like little kids. I’ll never forget entering that clubhouse for the first time. I hope they don’t either.
Ike Reese made his way in, filming the moment on his smartphone. I heard his howling laughter when he came to his locker.
In the middle of chatting with some familiar faces from last year, and talking with the new guys, I got myself suited up for our first Kangaroo Court session.
I made a point to get out to Bright House Field a little early to snap some photos, maybe even catch some current Phillies doing some morning workouts, just like last year. There were rumblings of a Vance Worley sighting, but no dice. No bother. The weather was absolutely stunning, so much warmer than last year. I just took it all in.
Kangaroo Court was ready. The judges’ garb was laid out. Let’s get blue!
Scott Palmer spoke first, laying out the day’s events, where to go, when to go, etc. A few words from the head photographer, ESF folks, and the crew chief for the umpires (complete with day’s first F-bomb)… then came the judges. Larry Andersen, John Kruk, and Ricky Bottalico took their spots on the bench, along with Mickey Morandini as the court-appointed defender. The F-bomb count immediately surpassed 100 within the first 10 minutes. That was fast.
The very first person called up was Dave Steel. I had met Dave the night before at dinner. His father, who I remembered from last year, had given his son the Camp as a gift, and they would both be on our team this go round. Dave, as I would come to find out throughout the entire week, is a renaissance man. Steely Dave had been charged in the case of “premature cupulation”. He apparently wore his cup from the hotel to the clubhouse, then later went looking for it, as he thought it was missing. This was definitely a sign of things to come with big Dave.
More laughs ensued as case upon case was heard, usually followed by Morandini’s catchphrase, “I got nothing”. Ike Reese would be the last victim of the day, charged with skipping Milt Thompson’s hitting clinic the day before.
We made our way back to the fields where we got our pictures taken with the Legends. Afterwards, I returned to the clubhouse to change in to the red batting practice jersey, as to separate the veterans from the rookies. After some group stretching, the rookies were summoned to their various stations for specific drills (hitting, outfield, infield, pitching, and base-running). Us veterans shagged flies, took grounders, and split up for a quick pick-up game to get us loose. This was much more relaxing than the constant rotating around the complex that the rookies were going through.
Standing out in the green of the outfield, taking in the warm Florida sun, hearing the sounds of fungo bats, just me and a fly ball… pure baseball heaven.
Before the morning session ended, there were rumblings coming from two different fields. On the Richie Ashburn, cheers were overheard as Ike Reese, taking batting practice from Ricky Bottalico, parked one over the rightfield fence. No offense to Ike, but he had a horrible-looking swing. But… he was a professional athlete. He’s a VERY strong man. If you are in shape the way Ike is, it doesn’t matter how bad you look at the plate, you are bound to get a hold of one and muscle it out of the park.
Here’s Ricky Bo giving Ike some post-AB tips.
Over on the Mike Schmidt field, an extra special Phillies guest was making the rounds. There he was… one of the greatest Phillies ever… Dick Allen.
Unfortunately, Allen had retired a year after I was born, so I never got to see him play. Oh, but I have read enough about him and heard plenty of stories from my father about his skills to know he was THE man. It was amazing to hear all the Campers saying how Allen was their favorite player when they were growing up. This was their Mike Schmidt.
Plus, how can anyone NOT love this?
After that, it was back to Bright House for lunch. Seriously, this is tough work.
Scott Palmer got on the microphone and announced the teams. It was finally time to get down to business. I knew three of my teammates would be returning, so I chose to once again, play for the Drillers, coached by Kevin Stocker and Mike Lieberthal. I had been contemplating a switch to a new team, just for the experience of having new Phillies Legends as my coaches, but I had such a blast with Stock and Lieby, and knowing the stellar guys that would be coming back, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
During the draft, Ike Reese was sitting next to me. He was chosen for the Sky Chiefs, coached by Greg Luzinski and Terry Harmon. Luckily, we would get to face them later in the Camp.
So it was off to Steve Carlton field to get ready for our first game against the Mud Hens. We were greeted by our player representative, Joe. He was the Drillers’ rep last year and I was so happy to have him back. This year, the Drillers added a General Manager to the mix. Folks who sign up as GM’s at Camp are given the opportunity to help draft players and be a part of the team-building experience. Our GM this year was a lovely man named Rick. As it turned out, his son Howie would also be playing with us. This now made two father-son combos that would be on the team. I was absolutely thrilled to be a part of this, to see the joy in each other’s faces… but at the same time, not surprisingly, I experienced moments of sadness.
This is what my dad and I should have been doing.
As to be expected, I started the game at catcher. Before the lunch break, I saw Lieby who said to me, “Sarge, you ready to catch?!” I had a feeling even before Camp started I would be tabbed to take the spot behind home plate. Even though that’s not my first, or even 7th choice, I was actually looking forward to it. To be completely honest, the only thing I don’t like about catching is all the damn gear! Other than that, it’s a pretty great position… well, there is the constant strain on your knees and legs, the foul balls off you various body parts, the everlasting pain on your catching hand… OK seriously, who in their right mind says, “I want to be a catcher”?
Our opening day starting pitcher was Steely Dave. He had really nice velocity and occasionally threw a fork or drop-arm. As the game went on, we found ourselves in a pitcher’s duel. That is until the 4th inning. We pulled ahead 2-1, and in the 5th, broke out the whoopin’ sticks. Five runs on eight hits. Our star of the game, John “The Mailman” Ashcom, delivered with a big single. The floodgates opened. Five consecutive singles. The Mud Hens retaliated with one run, but we returned the favor with one of our own, courtesy of Ashy’s double. Steely Dave ran in to some trouble and was relieved by veteran Driller, Dave Mongeluzi. Dave closed the game and we started out the Camp on a high note, winning 8-4 with 14 hits. Definitely a huge improvement over last year. All of a sudden, we had the Championship Game on our minds!
How did I do? Let’s just say, I had fun watching my team win. I caught four innings and patrolled rightfield at the end. I pulled out my best Carlos Ruiz impression by fielding a squibber in front of home plate, and throwing a perfect strike to first. I didn’t have the new hockey-style masks, but the traditional backwards batting helmet/mask combo, so I’m hoping my whipping-off of the mask looked pretty cool… I’m sure it’s didn’t, but I’d like to think so.
At the plate? It wouldn’t be one of my patented batting performances if I didn’t start out the Camp with two strike outs. The first looking, of course. The third was a “broken bat” grounder to second base. Later I started taking pictures of the bat, to which Stocker threw out one of his hundreds of little sarcastic comments, this one about my “massivly shattered bat”. Yes, it really was just a tiny crack, but I don’t care.
As if the day couldn’t have ended better, we followed the most amazing sunset all the way back to the hotel. Unlike last year, the warmer weather and clear skies created absolutely stunning scenes of natural beauty each day on our return trip. Every night looked like a painting filled with the most vibrant of reds and oranges. I wanted to take pictures on the bus, but this was the one time I just wanted to take it all in. I waited until I got back to the hotel to capture the last moments of the day.
The night ended with the Bull Session. All the Legends gathered, took questions from the audience, and told stories of their playing days. This is just another opportunity for some good-naturing ribbing on each other. Rick, our team’s GM, got up to ask a question, but before he could, made a nice gesture that would end up backfiring on him. He had procured himself a couple bottles of wine from the Phan wine and cheese tasting a couple hours before. Rick, who is a big lover of wine, had opened a bottle for us at dinner. He told Larry Andersen that he would like to give him some as he knew he loved wine. The problem was, there about a half a glass left. He brought up the red and an unopened bottle of white dessert wine. Well this just caused all sorts of “you got to be kidding me?!”-type of responses. Larry proceeded to down the remaining wine like the champ that he is.
Rick was sure to be called up tomorrow morning in Kangaroo Court.
There were many great quotes from the Legends, but my two favorite came from, not surprisingly, members of the ’93 Phillies. A Camper had asked Terry Harmon about playing in Connie Mack Stadium, as he was the only Phillie there to do so. John Kruk blurted out, “He played when the managers wore suits!” Classic.
The last came from Mickey Mornadini, who ended the session with a story about former Phillies pitching coach and Brooklyn Dodger, Johnny Podres. In 1993, Danny Jackson was pitching in Cincinnati. Jackson was giving up a lot of homeruns, and in turn, the stadium would set off fireworks. Needless to say, it was like the 4th of July. Podres walks out to talk to Jackson. When Danny asked Johnny, “What the hell are you doing here?”, Podres responded, “I’m just giving time for the fireworks guy to reload.”
And with that, we retired to the bar, yada yada yada, it was a helluva day.
As anyone who is a frequent visitor to Bleacher Report can attest to, they sure do love their lists. Who doesn’t love a good best-of/worst-of ranking? Movies, music, books, TV shows, and especially baseball players…
When I first started this Phillies Phantasy Camp Diary, one of the first comments I received was from a fellow who attended the Camp back in 2007. What immediately struck me was the fact that he was from Australia. I could not believe someone from a country where you are more likely to swing a cricket bat rather than a Louisville Slugger, traveled such a long distance to play baseball in Florida.
Cut to the Rookie Meeting during the first night of Camp. The emcee, Scott Palmer, spotlighted a few campers that were quite noteworthy, including Luis Liceaga, who was attending his 11th straight Camp. One Camper who was given a special mention was a guy named Mike Macdonald, who made a very similar trek as the Aussie Phillie back in ’07. Mike came to Clearwater all the way from Auckland, New Zealand.
On the night of the Awards Banquet, Mike’s incredible experience was about to get more special. He was given the “Maje McDonnell Award” for being the one player at Camp who “has personality and is a class act both on and off the field”. This garnered a huge response from the appreciative crowd.
Unfortunately, since the Drillers never played his team, the Sea Dogs, I never had a chance to meet and chat with Mike while we were down in Clearwater.
But thanks to the power of the Internet, specifically, Facebook, I have finally been able to speak with Mike on a regular basis. Our conversations range from New York City, to cricket, to the two of us being fellow drummers. (Check out Mike’s former band, The Warners). I recently asked Mike if he would be interested in answering a
few questions for the blog and he was more than willing to share every wonderful memory of his Camp experience.
Sarge: When and how did you come about becoming a Phillies/baseball fan?
Mike: I first went to the U.S. in 1986, to be in a summer camp counselor in Raymond, Maine. The locals were, of course, totally obsessed with the Red Sox, and talked all day about the games. Camp was late June through August, and the Sox were going well that year. So I started getting hooked into the game as their enthusiasm rubbed off onto me. But when I came back home, there was no baseball, so I forgot about it. In 1993, I got pay TV, and they had baseball on their sports channel. It
was September that I got the service, and I started watching the games, and we only got two a week, but of course it was a good year for the Phillies, so we got to see them a few times, and then thru the World Series. Looking at the other teams, they were all like super athletes who went out to WIN WIN WIN. The Phillies looked more like a bunch of guys who turned up on the day, didn’t shave, didn’t comb their hair, and just woke up. I thought if I was a baseball player, that was the sort of team I’d want to play on, and they always looked like they were having fun, win or lose. And more than any John Kruk always looked and acted like I think I would, if I was there. I also liked the way Lenny Dykstra played.
S: How do your friends and family react to your devotion to baseball?
M: The people down here don’t get baseball at all, and they are not sure why I like it. Rugby is our biggest game, and the true fans of it don’t talk to me when they know I don’t like their game. But to each their own. Our national game is played in the rain and the cold of winter, and it’s a group of guys rolling around in the mud. I
went to see Phillies versus Mets at Shea on a perfect hot sunny Sunday in the summer. I know which conditions I like to watch a game.
S: What was your motivation to attend Phantasy Camp?
M: Watching baseball on TV is always so much fun, so I thought it must be better to play, but its the chance to play with the pros that made me want to go to Camp. I don’t really have motivation to want to play it every week, and wouldn’t really have the time to do it. There is a little bit of baseball down here, and maybe it’s growing, but you can’t compare it to the experience of the Phantasy Camp. Of course there was going to be great players at the Camp, but I figured there would be a lot of guys like me, so wasn’t worried about my skill level. I was more worried that I don’t know the game and ex-pros like the rest of the Campers.
S: Did you ever play any sort of organized baseball in New Zealand?
M: I played lunchtime softball at school, but had never played baseball until Phantasy Camp. My last hit at softball would have been 1980 I guess.
S: Which Legend did you most want to meet at Camp?
M: I wanted to meet John Kruk, as I saw so much of me in him, and his attitude. I mean, he’s 110% professional, as much as they joked around at Camp, they can’t help but be good at what they were paid to do, and loved doing every day. They will always be ball players. I also wanted to meet the other ’93 Phillies, as they were the first players that I watched play and made me want to be a Phillies fan.
S: How was it to win the ”Maje McDonnell Award”?
M: I was blown away when I won the award. I didn’t know the story behind the man, apart from the stories from L.A. (Larry Andersen) and the video clip of Maje that we saw, but the fact that they picked me as the winner means that I must have left a mark in their minds. I talked a few times to L.A. and Scott Palmer, and they, like so many others, were just blown away by the fact that someone would come halfway round the world to be at the Camp, and that I knew about the Phillies, have been to
games, and wanted to be part of it. And then L.A. asked me to give a little speech… I don’t really remember what I said, but I seemed to say the right things, and my speech was enjoyed by everyone. Some asked me afterwards if I knew I was getting the award, as they thought I had pre-written the speech. But no, I was stunned when L.A. said I had won. I knew I wasn’t going to get an award for my playing, but to be picked out of everyone was incredible.
S: What were your favorite and most memorable moments at Camp?
M: So many great memories, but I guess getting my first ever base hit in our third game was probably the top, as it showed me that I could play, and it felt so great to run the bases. Pity I never got a run, but was only three steps away from home plate before being thrown out, so I almost made it. Also hitting Ricky Bo’s (Bottalico)
pitch in the Legends game was great. I got thrown out at first, but to be put out by John Kruk was not a bad thing. And L.A. had heard that I wanted to meet Kruk, but was never near John to say “hi”, so at the end of the second day of camp, L.A. took me to the pro’s locker room, where I spent about 10 minutes talking one-on-one to Kruk and Dave Hollins. John and Bull (Greg Luzinski) signed a ball for me, and spoke to Kruk a couple more times after that. He didn’t know what to say when I said that I was a Phillies fan and at the Camp mainly because of him. Dave Hollins suggested that maybe I was insane. The interaction of the pros was great to see. Just like when Ricky Bo was telling me how to run home form third as soon as the ball was hit in our game when I was on base. The opposing Legends said he was full of sh!t, and what the hell does a pitcher know about running… great stuff.
S: Will you return to Camp some day?
M: I would love to go back to Camp. For me, just like going to the August reunion, it’s simply a cost factor that’s stopping me. My Camp experience was well in excess of twice the costs of everyone else, with the extra flights to get to America and over to Florida, as well as our exchange rate of around 75 cents to your dollar, and going to Camp means it will be a few more years until I can afford to go back and watch the Phillies play at home.
S: Finally, how will the Phillies do this year?
M: Some good wins at Spring Training, but I am reading a few stories about Chase Utley, and some others with broken bones (Domonic Brown)… so who knows. Its a long season (I don’t know how they do it every year), but we all want to see another win, so I’ll pick good things for 2011… as I’m sure we all are.
No, Ryan Howard did not decide to take batting practice on the roof of the hotel in the middle of the night. That would have been two extremely loud, and very close lightning strikes, which scared the holy hell out of me, and most everyone else in the hotel. Unfortunately, that meant that our fine groundskeeper, Opie Cheek, was right on the money about that impending rainstorm. The bus pulled in to the Carpenter Complex and we were greeted with the image of a virtually drowning Ashburn Field. We did not like the looks of that. As I entered the clubhouse, I saw the grounds crew scrambling to make the fields as playable as possible. The skies were grey and it was drizzling. Plus there was another wave of precipitation on its way. This was going to be interesting. On the TV screens in the clubhouse, the game schedules for the day were posted, and not surprising, the first set of games were pushed back. I wouldn’t be playing until 2:30. As a teammate of mine said, “Who has a deck of cards?” First order of business was our daily player meeting and Kangaroo Court. As I made my way to the entrance of the tent, I noticed all the campers were still outside, looking towards rightfield. Immediately, I thought that this might be a current Phillie working out, just as Ryan Howard and Domonic Brown did the day before. Sure enough, at 8:30 AM, in a steady, chilly drizzle, the 2010 CY Young Award winner, Roy Halladay, was out tossing the ball. Living up to all the praise that was bestowed upon him the night before at the Bull Session, Halladay proved why he is arguably the best pitcher in the Major Leagues. What a beast. Kangaroo Court came in to session and already there was a shake up on the bench. Judge John Kruk was mysteriously absent from the proceedings and needed a reliever. Judge Ricky Bottalico to the rescue. Before cases were heard, the first of the daily awards were given out. A “Gamer Award” would be given out to the one player who had the best day on the field. Simple. The “Gomer Award” was… the complete opposite. For the first time ever in Phantasy Camp history, the “Gomer Award” was given to an entire team… mine. Our 18-0 shellacking at Bright House Field the day before, added to our 2-0 loss, meant we were completely shutout AND lost by a combined 20 runs… at least I can say I left Camp with an “award”. The winner of the “Gomer Award” is given a mask to wear, a baseball with a ridiculous face on it. Since they didn’t have 14 of them, our poor teammate, Connie Hidalgo, got the dubious distinction of donning the mask. Another one of my teammates, Mark Stutman, was called to the bench later in the session. It was not a good morning for the Drillers. Mark was charged with batting out of order during our first game, but in his defense, we had an injury on the field. With 14 people in a batting lineup, there was some understandable confusion. Our fearless co-manager Stocker chimed in, “I don’t condone counting”. Kangaroo Court continued. More jawin’, razzin’, blasphemin’, and crimes against human decency ensued. A lot of us got to thinking that this would probably be a heck of a lot more entertaining if it took place at night, after a few trips to the bar… or maybe not. We would probably have more and more people missing come the morning. After Court was dismissed, we went to have our team photos taken in the main concourse of Bright House Field, right behind home plate. Normally they would do this outside, but with the weather as it was, there was no choice but to be under cover. This gave us some time to hang about and get to know each other a little better. Larry Andersen made his way to our team for a quick chat with all of us. We had a lot of time to kill, so it turned out to be a nice experience. I caught sight of a few friends on other teams and talked to them for a bit. This also gave me the time to make up for the lack of photos from the day before. We took our team photo, in addition to an individual picture with Stock and Lieby. Now we had a lot of time to kill before our game. In between mulling around the complex and clubhouse, I grabbed lunch. Our player representative, Joe Moore, and another rep, led an organized stretch in the outfield of Carlton Field to keep us limber. Finally, our game was scheduled to start. Unfortunately, the break in weather was short-lived. The second wave of rain started right at the beginning of our game and got progressively worse… very quickly. Our opponents were the Ravens, coached by Jim Eisenreich and Bob Boone. I made the start at third base and we gave up two runs in the top of the first inning. We continued to run up our record for Runs Against. With our ups in the bottom of the frame, the scoreless streak finally came to an end. We quickly got a couple runners on base. I stepped in and proudly provided our first run of the Camp when I hit an R.B.I. double over the leftfielder’s head. That got us going. I was moved over to third then scored our second run on a force out. The game was now tied. As we were getting ready to take the field for the top of the second, the game was called. The rain really had started coming down now and there was no end in sight. Our mojo would have to be saved for the next day. As much as I would have loved to finish out that game, I must admit, I did appreciate the downtime and extra hours of rest before our team dinner. All the muscles I never knew I had were still aching, and a little R&R would most definitely help. As I entered the lobby, my friend Sam caught my eye as he was giving me a defying point in my direction. He let me know that I “just made him look like a Little Leaguer”. I did not realize it at the time, but my double had gone over the head of Sam. If I didn’t get another hit all Camp, I would be satisfied with that one, just for the humor attached to it… well, humorous for me. Not Sam. I made my way down to the lobby after a nice rest to wait for our shuttle to the team dinner at the Island Way Grill. Before our shuttle arrived, I had a chance to talk with a teammate of mine, Lee Sorenson. His son’s band, Forward Motion, play frequently in New York City. He was telling me that he was just in Manhattan to see him play at this tiny little bar called The Local 269. Funny enough, my current band just played there back in November, and has become quite a fixture on their stage in the last year or so. Lee told me how proud he was of his son and his music accomplishments. He also told me that he requested from his son that he’d be allowed to join them on stage for one song during a performance of their choosing. He also thought it would be great to have a stage name, preferably something along the lines of “Sting”. To make it easy, they bestowed him with the name “Ding”. Since Lee does not play an instrument, his son gave to him for Christmas a cowbell, inscribed with name “Ding”. Not only was I laughing all night from that story, but also I found that to be so incredibly touching. It was so obvious that he and his son have an amazing relationship, and the pride he had for his son’s accomplishments was so beautiful. It reminded so much of my dad and I. In my 20 years of playing in bands, I think he probably liked two of them, but he always made time to come out and see my shows and support whatever music I was playing. The countless hours he endured while we were making a sonic racket in our basement easily qualifies him for sainthood. It made me feel so good to see a pure and honest relationship like that. We arrived at the restaurant, which is co-owned by two former Tampa Bay Buccaneers players, Mike Alstott and Dave Moore. I must say, for this jaded New Yorker, I was very impressed with their food and the creativity in the preparation of their seafood dishes. I regret not getting a couple pieces of sushi, as Mike Lieberthal did. They were some very healthy portions. Since Mike was sitting next to me, we had a chance to talk a little more. He and I chatted about our love of sushi and all the incredible Japanese restaurants in my ‘hood, particularly Matsu (the original location, not the expansion down the street. Trust me). He also told us all about his extreme passion for playing golf, which he is trying to parlay in to an actual career. He makes frequent golf excursions and got the chance to play a round with Hunter Mahan in Ireland, compliments of their shared agent. As we spoke, he paused, stared at me and goes, “Do you remember Eric Milton”? I nodded. Milton was a teammate of Mike’s on the Phillies in 2004. He continued, “You remind me so much of him”. Well, that’s #2. First Pete Incaviglia, now Eric Milton. I can only imagine who would be next. Other discussions we had with Mike revolved around his career in baseball, from being drafted, to his first game with the Phillies, to his final days. We also talked about the state of baseball in general, like steroids their impact on the Hall of Fame voting. On my other side sat our player rep, Joe. I had started to talk with him earlier in the day, and this was my chance to get to know him better. Basically, player reps are employees of the Camp that basically are the den fathers to each team. They basically make sure that the only thing we have to worry about is having a blast. They figure out all the logistics for each team, on and off the field. They are the workhorses; along with the countless others that made this adventure a true fantasy. In the morning, there was a note from Joe in my locker, written on Phantasy Camp paper, complimenting me on my job catching and my hit from the first game. It’s these small touches that really make this camp a priceless experience. Later on in the dinner, Mark Stutman came over to wish me a happy birthday. The next day was actually my birthday, but he had seen the date in the player profile guide we all received the first we arrived. When the desserts came out, my key lime pie “mysteriously” had a couple candles stuck in it, followed by a chorus of “Happy Birthday”. I immediately looked at Mark and he gave me a coy shrug, denying all responsibility. It was definitely a fantastic way to end the night. Well, I did have a nightcap at the hotel bar when we got back. THAT was a fantastic way to end the night.
Well, I did have a nightcap at the hotel bar when we got back.
THAT was a fantastic way to end the night.
The final email messages from Phillies Phantasy Camp are coming in. More Legend bios… Ricky Bottalico, Ricky Jordan, Juan Samuel, and Dave Hollins. According to his bio, Hollins was inducted to the Greater Buffalo Sports Hall of Fame in 2004. This piqued my interest, so I had to see who else from the world of baseball is in this particular Hall of Fame. The first name that popped out to me was the one and only, Warren Spahn, arguably the greatest left-handed pitcher in history. Also included is the man with easily one of the best nicknames in baseball history, pitcher Sal “The Barber” Maglie. Not bad company Dave! There are some noted inductees with huge ties to the Phillies also on this list… Paul “The Pope” Owens, Danny Ozark, and Jim Konstanty. In addition to the daily weather update (70′s!), the email started out with this gem: “The official equipment truck has been unloaded at the Carpenter Complex and setup has begun. The fields are in pristine condition and waiting for you.” Really, how can you not get a lump in your throat when you read that? ——————– I truly cannot believe it’s here. Ten months have flown by and Phantasy Camp has suddenly arrived. I really thought I would have demonstrated the patience and mental fortitude of a little kid, which of course, is practically non-existent. But no, for once, I have acted like an adult. After Orientation, reality finally set in. I was in the home stretch. Now? Well, it still feels like a dream. I still can’t believe I’m packing my bags and preparing for this experience. Again, I don’t think this will truly hit me until I arrive at the hotel on Wednesday. Before I leave, I want to thank all the people whom I have spoken to about Phantasy Camp… all the folks who either reached out to me after discovering my blog, or the ones whom I contacted. The amount of positivity and well-wishes for a great trip were, and still are, beyond anything I could have imagined. Everyone has fanned the flame. I don’t think my excitement level would be as high as it is without you sharing your experiences with me. I cannot wait to finally get on the diamond with you all. My friends and family have been outstanding. Their anticipation may be as high as mine. I actually feel bad about rambling on and on about Camp as much as I do, but everyone keeps bringing it up! I sure hope you all aren’t bored talking about this, because you have months and months of me babbling like an idiot ahead of you. You have been warned. I want to thank my perfect and loving wife. If it wasn’t for her total, undying support of this trip, I would not have this extraordinary sense of elation. She has always been my rock from the first day we met. What transpired in the past year was absolutely devastating, and her astounding mettle and constant pushing of me to move forward and live my life to the fullest has been incredibly awe-inspiring. If anyone is as trilled to be going to Florida as me, it is her. And for that, I will be in debt to her for the rest of my life. And of course, I want to thank my father. He and I always had thoughts of participating in Phantasy Camp together, but that never came to fruition. He was, and continues to be, my guardian angel. He was, and continues to be, my hero. This experience is for him. *Note: I will not update the diary while I am down in Florida. As soon as I return on 1/23, I will get out my blog posts as quickly as possible. Until then, you can snack on some peanuts and Cracker Jack and hum a little tune.
In addition to the daily weather update (70′s!), the email started out with this gem:
Really, how can you not get a lump in your throat when you read that?
He was, and continues to be, my guardian angel.
He was, and continues to be, my hero.
This experience is for him.
When I attended Phantasy Camp orientation last month, in addition to Philly sports staple Scott Palmer, I got to meet two former Phillies and current Legends, Dickie Noles and Marty Bystrom. Marty was the first person I got to speak to. Like Scott and Dickie, he was very cordial and, like everyone else, repeated how much of a great time I will have in Florida. Also, at 6′ 5″, he’s a tall drink of water. I could only imagine the extra height he got with that ‘fro and bucket cap. I laugh every time I watch videos of him in 1980 being interviewed by Harry Kalas and Richie Ashburn. Their heads are barely in the shot. On this day in 1976, Bystrom signed with the Phillies as an amateur free agent. He spent five seasons with the club, but what he is most famous for is his late season heroics as a rookie in 1980. He arrived in September, started six games and went an impressive 5-0 and a 1.50 ERA. He started two games in the postseason, including the deciding Game 5 in the NLCS against the Houston Astros. He also made an appearance in the 1983 World Series. He only spent six seasons in the Majors before finishing with the New York Yankees in 1985. In 2000, Ricky Bottalico signed as a free agent with the Phillies for his second stint with the club. This time, he was used as a middle reliever setting up the now established closer, Jose Mesa. Bottalico lasted two seasons before being bumped around by five different clubs before finishing his pitching career with the Milwaukee Brewers in 2005. Like Bottalico, Dave Hollins signed as a free agent on this day in 2001, returning to the Phillies for a second time. His return was met with much happiness, but the reunion was short-lived. He only had 17 at-bat’s before having to go on the disabled list for one of the more odd “injuries” that you will hear. A noted diabetic, Hollins was bitten by spiders. This severely aggravated his diabetes and he could not properly return to playing. As disappointing and frustrating this was for him, players and fans, it was good to know that Hollins finished his career where it started.
When I attended Phantasy Camp orientation last month, in addition to Philly sports staple Scott Palmer, I got to meet two former Phillies and current Legends, Dickie Noles and Marty Bystrom. Marty was the first person I got to speak to. Like Scott and Dickie, he was very cordial and, like everyone else, repeated how much of a great time I will have in Florida. Also, at 6′ 5″, he’s a tall drink of water. I could only imagine the extra height he got with that ‘fro and bucket cap. I laugh every time I watch videos of him in 1980 being interviewed by Harry Kalas and Richie Ashburn. Their heads are barely in the shot.
On this day in 1976, Bystrom signed with the Phillies as an amateur free agent. He spent five seasons with the club, but what he is most famous for is his late season heroics as a rookie in 1980. He arrived in September, started six games and went an impressive 5-0 and a 1.50 ERA. He started two games in the postseason, including the deciding Game 5 in the NLCS against the Houston Astros. He also made an appearance in the 1983 World Series. He only spent six seasons in the Majors before finishing with the New York Yankees in 1985.
In 2000, Ricky Bottalico signed as a free agent with the Phillies for his second stint with the club. This time, he was used as a middle reliever setting up the now established closer, Jose Mesa. Bottalico lasted two seasons before being bumped around by five different clubs before finishing his pitching career with the Milwaukee Brewers in 2005.
Like Bottalico, Dave Hollins signed as a free agent on this day in 2001, returning to the Phillies for a second time. His return was met with much happiness, but the reunion was short-lived. He only had 17 at-bat’s before having to go on the disabled list for one of the more odd “injuries” that you will hear. A noted diabetic, Hollins was bitten by spiders. This severely aggravated his diabetes and he could not properly return to playing. As disappointing and frustrating this was for him, players and fans, it was good to know that Hollins finished his career where it started.
My wife and I normally spend our Thanksgiving holiday visiting my in-laws in Florida. This year was no different. Living in the northeast for my entire life, it’s been very interesting these last several years to gather around the dinner table, give thanks, and eat way too much food… all while wearing shorts (luckily, this last Black Friday wasn’t like another Black Friday years ago). In just under two months, I’ll be back in Florida, not only wearing clothing I’m not used to donning in the middle of January, but also sporting a nifty little number supplied by the Philadelphia Phillies.
It’s been a pretty excruciating year for me, my wife, family and friends, but there is a LOT to be thankful for. I am truly a lucky man.
Now that one major eating and drinking holiday is over, it’s time to get cracking on getting myself into decent shape for four straight days of baseball. From Thanksgiving until my birthday, there is a perfect storm of overindulgence in my life… Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, wedding anniversary, and birthday… I thank the baseball gods for flexible pants. This year, I’ll be extra conscious of what I’m ingesting. Not that I am a total out-of-shape blob, but I could get off my tookus, not take the subway or hail cabs as much, walk a little more, etc. It’s getting cold in NYC and I have no problem just hunkering down and only moving to get another snack. So I’ll pound the pavement, take extra long walks in Central Park, get off at a different subway stop, anything to get my blood pumping a little more. More stretching and some light muscle-building exercises should round out my path to better health nicely. Just in case, I’m still going to Costco and buying a metric ton of Icy Hot and Advil.
What I really need to get cracking on is getting my hitting in order. I plan on making many-a-visit to Manhattan’s Baseball Center to get plenty of swings in. If there is one aspect of my game I have never gotten a handle on is being able to hit a baseball. I’ll run around the outfield ALL day, shagging fly balls, snaring line drives, gunning the ball to the cutoff men, but when I step in to that batter’s box? I believe you have heard the term, “Mendoza Line”?
Anyway, “I’ll start my diet tomorrow”.
Since I found out which former Phillies will be in attendance at Camp in January, I’ve been scanning through my baseball cards, remembering what each one of these players meant to my fandom (or “Phandom” if you’d like). I decided I would mark some significant days in the Legends’ lives (and ours as fans) as they occur. Since I’m a month late getting to this, these will be retroactive to October 27th, the day I received the email with the official list of Legends…
November 17th – Mitch Williams’ birthday. I don’t believe any Philadelphia sports figure has had a phoenix-like resurgence as much as The Wild Thing. After that fateful pitch to Joe Carter in the 1993 World Series, Williams was almost immediately run out of town by rioting townsfolk with torches and pitchforks. Years went by and he returned to the Philadelphia area, first as an operator of a New Jersey bowling alley, then as a local on-air personality for 610 WIP AM and Comcast SportsNet Philadelphia. He is now on the fantastic MLB Network and has become an incredible and entertaining baseball commentator. Recently, he did coverage for FOX during the 2010 World Series… come on Mitch, we love you, but please do not go down that particular path.
November 18, 1997 – Kevin Stocker is traded to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays for Bobby Abreu. Stocker
made a splash in 1993, debuting for the Phillies midway through the season. He injected a massive dose of youthful energy into the already popular squad. With a young Desi Relaford waiting in the wings, the Phils pulled the trigger on a deal for a young and unproven outfielder. The Devil Rays had drafted Abreu in the expansion draft and immediately moved him to Philadelphia. Stocker only lasted for two more seasons and Abreu became one of all-time best outfielders in Phillies history. While his career was brief, Stocker’s time with the Phillies will never be forgotten by fans.
November 19 – Bob Boone and Dickie Noles’ birthday. Also, on this day in 1998, Ricky Bottalico is traded to the St. Louis Cardinals, along with Garrett Stephenson, for Jeff Brantley, Ron Gant and Cliff Politte.
Bob Boone and Dickie Noles are two players that live through my baseball cards, video replays, and memories from my dad. Both left the team after the 1981 season. I was only 5 years old at the time, too young to experience their playing days for the Phillies. Boone is a legend: a home-grown, long-tenured catcher who was a main cog in the late ’70′s playoff teams and 1980 World Champions. Probably one of his most famous plays was actually a dropped foul ball that was scooped up by first baseman Pete Rose in the 9th inning of Game 6 of the ’80 Series. His father was a Major Leaguer. His two sons were Major Leaguers. The name “Boone” is baseball royalty.
As I mentioned in my orientation recap, the player with the dubious distinction of the most doubles of any 1982 Topps baseball card I owned belonged to Mr. Dickie Noles. At least that’s what it seemed like. That curly ‘fro haunted my dreams. Noles only spent a couple years with the Phillies, but was crucial in the relief role in the 1980 World Series, playing some chin music to George Brett of the Kansas City Royals. It was a pleasure meeting him the night of the orientation, especially since his hair is short now.
I’ll be completely honest, Ricky Bottalico’s tenure with the Phils is a bit of a blur to me. He played for the team during a period where the Phillies were not quite a priority for me. The combination of the strike in ’94 and ’95, and the fact the team left something to be desired did not leave a good taste in my mouth. Like Mitch Williams, Bottalico was a very effective and electric reliever, but also a tad bit shaky, causing many-a-grey hair. He was the Phillies only All-Star in 1996, the year Philadelphia hosted the game. Also like The Wild Thing, Ricky now is a fantastic analyst for Comcast SportsNet Philadelphia.
November 22 – Greg Luzinski’s birthday. Like Boone and Noles, Luzinski’s time with the Phillies lives on in my imagination. Like the current team, who is made up of home-grown talent and has started their own dynasty, Luzinski came up with other rising stars from the Phillies farm system to form the first dynasty of the organization in the late ’70′s. Luzinski was the big bat behind the equally-sized bat of Mike Schmidt. The Bull has been a fixture in the Phillies organization since his retirement. Currently he rules the roost at arguably the best concession stand at Citizens Bank Park, Bull’s BBQ.
A very timely email arrived in my inbox today, only a couple hours before the rather disheartening first pitch of the 2010 World Series. From the desk of the Phillies Phantasy Camp folks came a message officially counting down the days until camp in January. A great pick-me-up for my fellow campgoers and Phillies fans. On the left side of the message was an alphabetical listing of the last names of all the former Phillies players who will be in attendance. I cannot believe I will be spending five days fraternizing with all of these gentlemen. Larry Andersen Eleven players from the 1993 NL East Championship team. Six players from the 1980 World Championship team. Two of the greatest catchers ever to don a Phillies uniform. One no-hitter. Over 35 years of Phillies history. Wow. I have such distinct memories of every single one of these players…. My Juan Samuel and Von Hayes Starting Lineup action figures. My “Fan Photo Day” pictures of Ricky Jordan and John Kruk… his very first day in a Phillies uniform. Coming home from school and catching the last couple innings of Tommy Greene’s no-hitter against the Montreal Expos. For the players I was quite too young to remember, I had my baseball cards and stories from my dad to fuel my imagination. But the one player I am very excited to meet is Mr. Jim Eisenreich. One of my all-time favorite anecdotes about my father involves good ol’ Eisey from back during the 1993 season. That one I will save for camp. As I finish typing this, the San Francisco Giants defeated the Texas Rangers in Game One of the World Series. All of a sudden, that particular bitter taste has gone away. Phillies, you know how to make a guy feel so much better.
A very timely email arrived in my inbox today, only a couple hours before the rather disheartening first pitch of the 2010 World Series. From the desk of the Phillies Phantasy Camp folks came a message officially counting down the days until camp in January. A great pick-me-up for my fellow campgoers and Phillies fans. On the left side of the message was an alphabetical listing of the last names of all the former Phillies players who will be in attendance. I cannot believe I will be spending five days fraternizing with all of these gentlemen.
Eleven players from the 1993 NL East Championship team. Six players from the 1980 World Championship team. Two of the greatest catchers ever to don a Phillies uniform. One no-hitter. Over 35 years of Phillies history. Wow.
I have such distinct memories of every single one of these players….
My Juan Samuel and Von Hayes Starting Lineup action figures.
My “Fan Photo Day” pictures of Ricky Jordan and John Kruk… his very first day in a Phillies uniform.
Coming home from school and catching the last couple innings of Tommy Greene’s no-hitter against the Montreal Expos.
For the players I was quite too young to remember, I had my baseball cards and stories from my dad to fuel my imagination.
But the one player I am very excited to meet is Mr. Jim Eisenreich. One of my all-time favorite anecdotes about my father involves good ol’ Eisey from back during the 1993 season.
That one I will save for camp.
As I finish typing this, the San Francisco Giants defeated the Texas Rangers in Game One of the World Series. All of a sudden, that particular bitter taste has gone away.
Phillies, you know how to make a guy feel so much better.