Results tagged ‘ Roy Halladay ’

Winter Schminter

Photo by Adam Kimelman

The above photo is quickly making the rounds in the Philly sports blogosphere today.

Yep, that’s Roy Halladay. In shorts. A week before Christmas.

Where have I seen this before?

Oh right… last January. Incredible.

Hope to see you next month big man.

Phillies Phantasy Camp 2011 - Roy Halladay

1/21/11 – Day Three of Phillies Phantasy Camp



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.

1/20/11 – Day Two of Phillies Phantasy Camp – evening Bull Session

The clock said 6:45 PM, but it felt like 2 AM. Everyone on that bus ride home was either falling asleep or showing off their various ice packs and wraps, compliments of the fine folks in the trainers room. But in the end, you know we all had an absolute blast this day. No amount of pain or weariness could have put a damper on what we just experienced.

After the bus arrived, I had only about an hour to get ready for the evening’s Bull Session. I made the mistake of lying down on the bed to “rest my eyes” as my dad would have said. I fell asleep for about a minute then woke up in a panic. Just like my dad, my one quick bout of snoring roused me from my sleep. I really needed to get my second wind or else I would have conked out for the rest of the night.

The Bull Session took place in the hotel ballroom where we had our first night’s Rookie Meeting. We sat with our team and coaches. Luckily, our tables were situated in the front row, stage right. Some of my teammates had already sat down with their dinner. I was getting ready to join them, as the other table was completely empty. At the same time Stocker took a seat at the empty table and joked that no one wanted to sit with him. I had to oblige. More of my teammates joined the table. Stock told us all about his career in baseball, stories of his minor league days with Lieberthal, getting called up to the Majors, etc. He also told us about his post-baseball career, his family, and living back in his hometown of Spokane, WA. I knew of Stock’s time with CBS Sports as a TV analyst during the College Baseball World Series (he played for the Washington Huskies during his college days), but I did not know that he is the owner of a smoothie company, Emerald City Smoothie. If they only had these in New York… I am such a sucker for these smoothie joints. Stock, do you deliver?

After dinner and few drinks to help with our muscle pains (no, really, that’s all they were for. I have read that 9 out of 10 doctors recommend Canadian Club for aching quads), the Legends were called up to the stage by Scott Palmer. For the next hour or so, Scott would ask different Legends to extrapolate on the Phillies and different aspects of the organization as it stands now (their recent successes, their ability to bring in top level pitchers to a non-pitcher-friendly park, their future, etc), and talk about how that relates to when they played for the team. As the night went on, it turned in to the evening version of Kangaroo Court, no thanks to the hotel bartender taking orders and refilling the Legends during the session.  Mitch apparently is also a fan of the CC. Good taste my man. Greg Luzinski is not only a connoisseur and big fan of red wine, but also all of us who have purchased a ton of BBQ from his stand at Citizens Bank Park. He made it very clear he was extremely grateful of our patronage. When you put out a product like he does on a daily basis, you are guaranteed return customers. That kielbasa is pure heaven.

Von Hayes spoke about rookie Domonic Brown and the impact he could have on the Phillies’ future. He said that it is essential that Brown have a great mentor when he finally arrives full time. When he first came to the Phillies, Hayes mentioned how Garry Maddox was the key to his understanding of the outfield better. With Garry being one of my all-time favorite players, that really warmed my heart.  Other discussions revolved around each position and the current players that occupy that spot (Dave Hollins talking about third base and Placido Polanco, Marty Bystrom, Warren Brusstar and Dickie Noles talking about pitching, Cliff Lee, Cole Hamels and the work ethic of Roy Halladay, etc.).  The conversation stuck on Halladay and how his presence on the team has influenced so many players and impressed all the Legends. John Kruk, on the other hand, could not understand how anybody, including Halladay, could come to the park hours and hours before game time. “The game is only three hours long!” When discussing his diet of cheesesteaks and hot dogs, he quipped, “at least I was happier than Roy Halladay”.

It’s no secret that Kruk’s weight and physique have always been one big punch line since his playing days. The Legends, especially Mitch Williams, have no problem facilitating that running joke. But all kidding aside, what I found interesting was how many of the Legends who had played with Kruk will animatedly tell you how incredible of an athlete he was.  Lieby said Kruk loved (and still loves) to play up that persona, but when he played, no one took that field with more gusto and athletic prowess.

Kruk came up again during a great story about Mitch Williams hitting Barry Bonds during a game. Williams was discussing the appropriate times to send a message to a player or other team (strangely, he was once ordered to bean Bob Boone… who hits Bob Boone?) Williams had hit Bonds and Barry had some words for him on his way to first base.  He kept chirping to Kruk, saying he was going to charge Williams if he did it again.  Kruk, stood aside, held out his arms toward Mitch and said, “go right ahead, be my guest”.

Kruk got another crack in at Williams’ expense. Mitch told a story of when he gave up nine hits in a row in a Minor League game, to which Kruk loudly responded, “Mitch didn’t give up a walk to nine straight batters?! Unbelievable!” That got the crowd roaring.

And speaking of Minor League war stories, Larry Andersen contributed a fantastic story about his last game ever. While doing a brief stint in the Minors at the tail end of his career, Andersen arrived to the ballpark in not-so-optimal condition i.e. hungover. This particular game was “Miniature Bat Giveaway Day”. The kids in attendance had figured out that banging the bats against the metal bleachers would make a loud and obnoxious sound… and they kept it up. Andersen could not take it anymore. When he was called to start throwing in the bullpen, he told the coach, “didn’t you hear? I’m retired”.

A few Campers were able to throw out some questions to the Legends later on in the session. Someone had asked Bob Boone if he knew the whereabouts of the ball used on last pitch of the 1980 World Series, as he was the last person to touch it. In his very cool and quiet way, he slyly smiled, nodded his head and said, “I have it”. One of the Legends chimed in and joked that he has about 25 of them that he tries to sell every year. Hilarious.

But my favorite moment of the night came at the beginning of the session. When Scott Eyre was introduced, Scott Palmer mentioned that Eyre has a l
ittle phrase written on the underside of the bill of his cap. Eyre said he would look at the phrase all the time during a game to put everything into proper perspective. What did it say?

“Have Fun”

And that right there, is what baseball is all about. People forget this is just a child’s game. We forget about being in our backyards as little kids, running around, scraping our elbows and knees sliding and making diving catches. We forget about the simple joy of having a catch with our father, or brother, or whomever, and the snap of the leather coming from an extremely worn down baseball.  We forget about straining our eyes in the fading light as we try to squeeze out every second we can before we can no longer see the ball on a long summer’s day.

That’s what baseball is all about. That’s what this camp is all about. It’s about bringing back the excitement of having teammates and cheering them on, no matter what happens in the field. It’s about the camaraderie and sharing the pleasures this game provides us all.

This is what I wanted to experience with my father.

He’s not with me anymore in the physical world, but he definitely has been with me here in heart and spirit. His positive influence and love has made me appreciate this game for what it is… just a game.

“Have Fun”

 

11/16/10 – Orientation


When I first inquired about Phantasy Camp way back in March, I was told an orientation meeting would be held sometime in November. That seemed like an eternity, especially since the baseball season hadn’t even begun. Well, the World Series has ended, the weather is colder, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s November already. Only two months to go until camp, and after last night’s orientation, it has finally sunk in. Months and months of emails, letters, research, speculation and anticipation came to a head yesterday, one floor below Citizens Bank Park. I haven’t even stepped foot onto the field in Florida and I know this will be one of the greatest experiences of my life.

The weather was lousy. Rainy, windy, and chilly. Citizens Bank Park looked like an ominous monster when I exited the subway station. None of the lights were on, save for a few small points of illumination. No cars in the parking lots. As I got closer, I saw a huge banner in the final stages of being hung above the third base entrance, celebrating Roy Halladay’s Cy Young Award that he won only a couple hours before my arrival. Of course, that award was well-deserved. Yes, he didn’t achieve the predicted Herculean stats like 30+ wins and a ’68 Bob Gibson-esque ERA, but he gave us a season the likes Phillies fans haven’t seen since “Lefty”, Steve Carlton.

When I arrived at the south entrance on Pattison Avenue, I met a gentleman and his wife who were making their way in as well. We entered the lobby, going past some impressive memorabilia (game-used bats, balls, the lineup card from Halladay’s NLDS no-hitter against the Reds, etc.). We took the elevator down. The gentleman, Gene, asked me if I was playing or just going as a “Phan” (the camp offers packages for players to bring down family members and friends to accompany them, and will provide them with fun excursions and of course, seats at all the games). I told him I was playing and he gave me a funny, “uh oh”. It became immediately obvious that I am definitely one of the youngest players. Little do they know, they can probably run laps around me. This was also Gene’s first time at camp and he and his wife were very excited about this whole experience, as to be expected.

We came off the elevator and walked right in to the Phillies media room. Other than the army of camp employees manned at numerous locations, a table of food, and balloons, the first thing that caught my eye was the oh-too-familar backdrop and podium everyone sees when the Phillies hold a press conference to introduce new players, coaches, etc. This is when it truly hit me.

I checked in and finally got to meet Joanne LeVeque, the wonderful enrollment coordinator I have been speaking to on and off for the past eight months. She and the other women checking campers in were like rays of sunshine. A perfect way to start the night. From there I went on a Phantasy Camp conveyor belt, going from table to table to meet other employees who were in charge of different aspects of the experience. At each table, every single person gave the widest of smiles, welcoming me to camp, asking me if I was excited, and telling me how much fun I will have. If you have ever been on a cruise, then you know how enthusiastic the crew is toward you and your fellow passengers. Now, turn it up to 11 and you have these folks. Yet, since this is a relatively small group of people, and not a boat full of 1,000 people, you are truly made to feel like a king.

In addition to to all the various paperwork, receiving very cool, customized luggage tags, and a huge gym bag with an embroidered Phantasy Camp logo AND my requested uniform number, 31 (my favorite Phillie, Garry Maddox… yes!), I was given a form to fill out asking me if I have another fantasy I would like the players to fulfill for me. The women said they have done things in the past where players can recreate certain game scenarios (bottom of the 9th, game seven of the World Series, bases loaded…). I found a chair and sat down to gather my thoughts and calm down. At this point, I felt like a seven-year old in Disney World for the first time. My brain was going in a million different happy directions. I grabbed some food to help me stop my head from spinning, although those cookies probably didn’t help.

I sat with a clipboard, checking over my player bio that they will be putting in to a media guide. After that, I started looking at my fantasy request form. I was drawing a complete blank. How much more could they possibly do for me other than bringing down the entire 2010 team for me to have beers with? As I was pondering this, another couple came and sat next to me. I hear the gentleman say to me, “can’t figure out what to write, huh?” I laughed and said, “this whole thing IS fulfilling my fantasy.” The man introduced himself, and as it normally goes, I immediately forgot his name. He asked me if this was my first trip down and I said yes. He told me this will be his fifth year in a row and that it never ever gets old. I told him how thrilled I was to be doing this and had a feeling I would be signing up for it again as soon as I arrive back home. He closed his eyes and gave me a slow nod. He then paused, gave me a serious, yet comforting look, dropped his voice a few decibels, inched a little closer to me and said, “you will have the time of your life.” Unlike everyone else who had been rep
eating that phrase over and over to me, this time, I actually felt that statement reverberate in my bones. He was like some wise sage who knew the secrets of the universe. He also had a particular look in his eye that I have definitely seen before…

An old co-worker of mine named Mike attended the New York Mets fantasy camp a couple years ago. I remember him coming over to my desk to talk about his experience after he returned. His face told it all. He couldn’t stop smiling. It was one of those grins that is purely honest and true. He was like a little boy, not being able to talk fast enough to get all his thoughts and stories out. I also play softball with him on one of my teams. Whenever we had a chance, it’s all we ever talked about while sitting on the bench. I’ve always wanted to attend a fantasy camp, but he definitely was a catalyst in getting me to seriously start entertaining the idea.

I eventually filled out and turned in my fantasy request form (I’ll let you all know later if this actually happens). Now it was off for my uniform fitting. A few other campers and I were led through the maze-like hallways of Citizens Bank Park on our way to the clubhouse. On the way, our guide gave us a little tour of the area, pointing out certain rooms and lounges, including the lockers of the Phillie Phanatic and the umpires. The funniest moment of the night came at the expense of the said umpires. Our guide pointed out that the signs for every door also has a braille translation. The signs not to have braille imprinted on them? The ones to the umpire lockers and lounges. Goodnight, don’t forget to tip your waitress.

As we made our way closer to the clubhouse, we arrived at the batting cages used by the players. I particularly liked the Charlie Manuel Observation Windows on the left.

We came to an intersection. Left took us to the Phillies dugout and the field. Right took us to the clubhouse. I’ll be making that left come next August at Phantasy Camp reunion.

We made our way to the clubhouse, passing by the mailboxes for all the players and coaching staff. Funny enough, the first box I noticed was for Davey Lopes. No forwarding address has been given yet I guess.

Just like when I walked in to the media room just a half hour or so before, the reality of this experience hit me for a second time. Another platoon of camp employees were set up at different stations around the side of the clubhouse. We were first brought to a display table showing us all the different awards we can win while at camp. These would be given out at the awards banquet on the last night of our trip. These include Most Valuable Player, Gold Glove, Batting Champion (the trophy is a bat signed by all the Phillies Legends), Cy Young, “Charlie Hustle” for the “spark plug” of the team, an impressive ring for the World Series-winning team, including being etched into the Phantasy Camp Championship Trophy, and a “Maje McDonnell” Award, named after the Philadelphia sports staple, given to the player with the best personality and class on and off the field. Also, daily “Gamer Award” pins will be given out for on-the-field excellence. Once again, this is just another aspect of this experience to make the camper feel incredibly special.

While our guide was telling us about these great awards, I couldn’t help turning my head back and forth to look at all the different lockers. I was standing in the clubhouse of my favorite baseball team. This is where the Phillies have had numerous champagne and Bud Light showers for the past four seasons. Now I know that being able to visit everything I just mentioned is not that unique. Anyone can sign up for tours of the park and see what I just saw. My nine-year old nephew this past summer got to take a very similar tour when he attended his own youth Phillies camp. But you know what? I’ve never seen it, so damnit, I’m going to act like a little kid!

Next up was my hat fitting (oh man, Chase Utley’s locker). Luckily, I just got a haircut, so they didn’t have to send in the oversized Phillies cap they use to put on William Penn’s head on top of City Hall. With my hat and a jersey, I was now getting my picture taken for the media guide. You didn’t have to tell me to smile.

Before going over for my uniform sizing, the organizers softened the blow of how awkward I will look in stretch pants. The camp brought in three folks who will be sharing the five days with us. Down the line, I got the opportunity to shake hands and converse with Marty Bystrom, our own ’10 San Francisco Giants-style save-the-day rookie sensation, Scott Palmer, a sports anchor staple in Philadelphia, now the director of public affairs for the Phillies, and Dickie Noles, easily the one Phil I had the most baseball cards of. I swear I think all the card companies had a mandate that a Dickie Noles should be placed in every other pack. I’m glad that I finally got to meet the real thing and not have to keep looking at 36 duplicate ‘82 Topps cards. All three of them were absolutely charming, telling me how much fun I will have. Again, I could see it in their faces. They LOVE doing this.

Behind the red curtain I went to get fitted. I was brought over to a chair, situated right in front of Roy Halladay’s locker. The next thing I know, I was standing in my underwear… in Roy Halladay’s locker… the guy who just won the Cy Young Award earlier in the day….

Well, I just got my money’s worth. I can go home now. Thank you very much.

When I emerged, I was given a complimentary Dick Perez print commemorating Halladay’s perfect game earlier in the season. The women said that would be it and I can go back to the media room with a guide… or I can stick around and take pictures. I of course, chose the latter. The first thing I had to do was text message my wife from Carlos Ruiz’s locker. That got exactly the reaction I was hoping for from her. I went around the horn, snapping photos of everyone’s lockers… Ryan Howard, Jimmy Rollins, Jayson Werth…

I begrudgingly decided to leave, going with the same guide I came in with. On the way back we passed an impressive mural of photographs from the 2008 season, including a massive panoramic shot right after Brad Lidge struck out Eric Hinske. Directly across from this was a series of window box frames with the jerseys of all the Phillies players who have had their number retired by the club, including the great Jackie Robinson.

Everything was in order and was cleared to go. I stopped by the front desk to say goodbye to Joanne and thank her again for all her help. “See you in Florida” she said. And that was that. I waited eight months for orientation. I only have two months more to go.

I left the park and headed back up Pattison Avenue to the subway for the first step of my multi-stage trip back to New York. The weather was still lousy, but nothing could have brought me down at that moment.

9/27/10 – Good Evening, Recliner and Beer

Thanks to yet another complete game gem from Roy Halladay, I can now say I’m attending the fantasy camp of the 2010 National League East Champion Phillies. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would get to experience such a run by this team. Four division championships in a row and the distinction of being one of THE elite teams in the Majors? My inner 10-year old is not getting tired of this.

To make it even better, I listened to the WPHT broadcast with Scott Franzke and Larry Andersen through my favorite iPhone app, MLB.com At Bat. Other than actually being at the field, there is nothing better than listening to a baseball game on the radio. I have such wonderful memories listening to Phillies games in our ’77 Plymouth Volare or our little Panasonic transistor radio on the beach on our annual Summer vacation to Stone Harbor, NJ. The sound of Harry Kalas, Richie Ashburn, Andy Musser, and Chris Wheeler coming through a tinny radio was pure AM gold.

“Swing and a long drive!”

Tonight my thoughts turned to my dad as each inning passed. When the game finally ended, a small wave of sadness hit me. I couldn’t call him tonight. After every big game, it would take about thirty seconds before one of our phones would be ringing.  Instead, all I could hear was a hypothetical conversation in my head. I could hear him gushing about Halladay…finally pronouncing his name correctly after almost 10 months of Roy being on the team. My father had a very funny quirk of never getting people’s name right. I’m quite sure I would have heard the name “Holiday” mentioned several hundred times, even after several hundred corrections.

In 2008, my wife and I went down to visit my dad for the weekend, and as luck would have it, got to watch the Phillies win the NL East crown for that season together. A pizza and the familiar sight of my dad in his recliner with a Coors Light in his hand capped off a wonderful night. It was the only time since 2007 that I got to experience one of these big games with my dad. With me being 125 miles away and he usually heading to Florida for the good part of September and October, it was a rarity for the two of us to get to watch a late-season game in these last couple years. It makes it so special that this game was the first big step leading to their 2008 World Series trophy.

My recliner was unoccupied last night. I’d like to think he was there with us last night, relaxing, having several cans (even though I didn’t have the specific beer my dad liked), maybe snoozing off for a bit (or “resting his eyes”) and celebrating another big Phillies victory. Hopefully, like 2008, this will just be the beginning. As Halladay said last night, “it’s only gonna get funner”.

I sure would like to say I’m going to the fantasy camp of the 2010 World Champion Phillies…

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