Phils-Nats II: Location, Location, Location

Just as predicted, the rain came last night.  And just as predicted, Cole Hamels found his groove. 

 

They say the three keys to running a successful business are: location, location, location. 

 

Well, last night Phils’ pitchers were all business, except for a few harmless hits and a one-run dinger that was airmailed to the second level. But in pitching, just as in business, you can’t please all of the people all of the time.

 

Especially me. 

 

Especially when it comes to pitchers fielding balls. I’m not a fan and last night proved why. 

 

Last night, history repeated itself.  Cole got hurt, the bullpen scrambled for a replacement, and again, this baseball babe could think only of herself.  What happened to my eye candy?  He was gone way too early in the game.  

 

I don’t know what hurts worse, Cole getting injured and being pulled when he’s doing bad, or Cole getting hurt and leaving the game when he’s doing good?  I’ll have to think about that, but only in terms of how it affects me.

 

But wait.  Chad Durbin?  Please don’t tell me he’s gonna use Durbin? 

 

My husband growled in disgust.  And then Chad proved he’s a professional, too. Whew, glad history didn’t repeat itself there.

 

But it did with Chase Utley.

 

But it didn’t with Jimmy Rollins.

 

But it did with Phillies defense. 

 

The fielding was epitomized by hustle and try.  The defense was so hot even a fan in the stands snagged a tough foul ball.

 

And history wrote another chapter in the amazing chronicle of Raul Ibanez.  Actually all you had to do was copy the pages from any other game and read them again.  There were two sets of “ooooooooohs” coming from Broad Street last night but I don’t know whose were louder: Bruce’s or Raul’s.  But no matter who you were “oooooing” for, say it loud and say it proud.

 

Speaking of history, was that Carlos Ruiz I saw in the dugout?  Don’t tease me. 

 

Carlos and I go way back.  Okay, maybe just in my mind.  Yup, he was in Philadelphia on Tuesday.  I miss him so much.  Wait, that’s why Phils pitching ruled!  The curse was lifted simply with his presence!  Who’d a thunk?

 

Last night they handed out Charlie Manuel bobbleheads.  My nephew went to the game and asked if he should get me one.  Unless I lived in an earthquake zone, I don’t see the entertainment value.  I love Charlie and I love baseball; I love the strategy and I love the stories.  Put that on a bobblehead and then I’ll dust it.

 

I have one last question: Is it necessary to show us the press box during the game?  Why do we have to “see” Tom, Gary, or Chris?  I love their commentary but shifting from my 25-man roster of baseball toys to watching those guys in the press box is like the network interrupting a bottom-of-the-ninth tie game with bases loaded and two outs with the Pro Bowlers Tour.  Need I define “eye candy?”  Okay, enough said.

 

So one more game tonight and then we’re off.  I need it.  My nerves are still shot from the Monday night game. Cole will have one more day to recover, and I’m fresh out of Alka Seltzer. 

 

Maybe I’ll sit and meditate on my Shane Victorino bobblehead. Oh, I didn’t admit to having that?  I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.  He’s hot—even in a skirt.

 

 

Dick Allen: What Could Have Been

Every so often in sports there comes along an athlete whose talent far surpasses that of any of his peers.

 

Mickey Mantle was that way for the Yankees in the ’50s. He was born to play center field and had a supreme blend of power and speed that has been unmatched by any player in history.

 

Same with his in-state rival, Willie Mays, who played the same position for the same time with the Giants.

 

Bo Jackson was that way for the NFL’s L.A. Raiders in the mid-1980s. As a running back, experts swear Bo could have rushed for 3,000 yards and 25 touchdowns had he been surrounded by a solid quarterback and offensive line.

 

In the NBA, it was Wilt Chamberlain, who averaged 50 points per game for an entire season when the runner-up would score in the low 20s.

 

With this in mind, it’s always a shame to see a guy come along with so much talent but have it overshadowed by injuries, racism, off-field issues, and the works.

 

Welcome to the world of Dick Allen, one of the finest yet most controversial players ever to wear a Philadelphia uniform.

 

Allen broke into the major leagues in 1964 with the Philadelphia Phillies. Allen fielded a world of potential, more potential than just about anyone who ever lived. As a pure hitter, there have only been a handful of ballplayers who have been blessed with this kind of talent.

 

Baseball historian Bill James—possibly my favorite baseball man of all time—rates Allen as one of the top four pure power hitters in baseball history, in a category with Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, and Jimmie Foxx.

 

Anytime you are grouped with those three players, you’re doing something right.

 

Pittsburgh Pirates Hall of Fame slugger Willie Stargell said the following about Allen: “Now I know why they boo Richie all the time. When he hits a home run, there’s no souvenir.”

 

Certainly true.

 

Allen swung a 44-ounce bat, one of the heaviest in major league history, and he used it to pound the ball like few players who have ever lived. There are stories of him hitting home runs well over 500 feet.

 

No athlete in franchise history has hit home runs like Allen did. Not Mike Schmidt. Not Scott Rolen or Pat Burrell. Not even Ryan Howard.

 

Allen had so much raw talent in him that I believe had he been able to clear his head and focus only on baseball, he could have hit 600 home runs.

 

Put him in this current era, and he might be the all-time home run king.

 

He had that much potential.

 

As it stands, Allen is not in the Hall of Fame. In my eyes, he is the most deserving player currently not enshrined. He had a world of talent and didn’t produce as he could have, but too much of the blame goes to Allen and not enough to his teammates, managers, the fans, media, etc.

 

Allen’s career numbers won’t make your jaw drop, but they are pretty impressive.

 

He hit 351 home runs in a pitching era, leading the league twice. He batted .292 for his career, including seven seasons of a .300 mark. He won a Rookie of the Year award and an MVP award.

 

Certainly very respectable statistics, but I get the feeling they could have been better. I KNOW they could have been better. Allen had the potential to hit 500 or 600 home runs. He probably could have won several MVP awards and maybe a World Championship.

 

And he would most definitely be in Cooperstown.

 

So what went wrong?

 

Well, Allen entered the major leagues as a young and angry individual. He had been mistreated frequently during his stint in the minors. He was booed as the team’s first black player and the subject of heavy ridicule and racism.

 

Allen was greeted with signs that said “N*gger go home.” Fans wrote messages on his windshield saying, “Don’t come back again, n*gger.”

 

While he had always been respected for his play on the field—even through his journey in the minor leagues, when Allen’s talent was evident—he kept to himself. Allen was a troubled player living in a difficult environment.

 

Oh, what could have been.

 

In his book, The Great Philadelphia Sports Debate, Glen Macnow calls Allen the “all-time what could have been player” in franchise history.

 

When Allen broke into the major leagues for good in 1964, it was a year to remember. In many ways, it summed up his career in the major leagues.

 

Allen batted .431 in April with five home runs. The Phillies were in first place just three years removed from a season in which the team finished last in the major leagues. And they were being carried by a rookie.

 

For the season, Allen batted .318 with 29 home runs and 91 runs batted in. He led the entire National League in multiple offensive categories, including runs scored (125), triples (13), extra-base hits (80), and total bases (352), and he won the NL Rookie of the Year award.

 

His season was faced with much scrutiny from the media and fans of Philadelphia, however. Allen did have some flaws in his play—he led the league with 138 strikeouts and a whopping 41 errors at third base.

 

And he received a lot of criticism for the Phillies’ historic collapse—blowing a 6.5-game lead with just 12 games to play in the season.

 

Unfair criticism.

 

Allen batted .341 in the final month of the season with a .618 slugging percentage. He hit five home runs, and his 76 total bases were far greater than his total in any other month. He batted .385 in close and late situations for the season, coming through frequently when the team needed him the most.

 

He even turned his play up in the final 12 games of the season, hitting .438 with three home runs and 11 RBI. During the team’s now infamous 10-game losing streak, Allen collected 17 hits.

 

Heading into the final game of the season, the Phillies were one game behind the Cardinals for first place in the National League. For the Phillies to force a three-game playoff, they would have to win and the Mets would have to beat the Cardinals.

 

Allen did his part, carrying the team to a 10-0 victory behind his double, two home runs, and four RBI, but it was too late, as the Mets lost to the Cardinals.

 

Simply put, the collapse was not Allen’s fault. But it cost him the National League MVP award and damaged his reputation in Philly, where the fans booed him from game one, when he slipped in a puddle trying to catch a pop-up, to game 162, when his two home runs weren’t enough to beat the Cardinals.

 

Allen was arguably the best hitter in the league from ’65 through ’67, making three straight All-Star teams. He hit .308 during that span, averaging 27 home runs, 90 RBI, and 15 stolen bases per season. His adjusted OPS for those three years was 166.

 

Compare that to some of the other stars in the league in the mid-’60s. Willie Mays, who won the Most Valuable Player award in ’65, finished third in ’66, and made three straight All-Star teams for the National League, had an adjusted OPS of 154, 12 points less than Allen.

 

Hank Aaron’s OPS was 156. Roberto Clemente—the league MVP in 1966—had an OPS of 150. Orlando Cepeda—the league MVP in 1967—was just 144.

 

Allen was that good, and not many people realized it. He had a way of overshadowing his play on the field with his off-field issues.

 

Halfway through 1965—Allen’s second full season with the team—Allen got into a feud with teammate Frank Thomas. Although it was actually teammate Johnny Callison’s remarks that pushed Thomas over the edge, Thomas retaliated against Allen, swinging his bat into Allen’s shoulder.

 

The next day, the Phillies released Thomas. Allen was threatened with a $2,000 fine if he discussed the story with the media.

 

Eventually, however, the story leaked, and the fans began to boo Allen constantly. The fans and media chose to blame Allen, a black player, for the release of Thomas, a white player. This furthered the distance between Allen and the fans.

 

What was ironic was that Allen had actually publicly supported Thomas, begging manager Gene Mauch not to release Thomas. Mauch didn’t listen, and Thomas played the role of the victim.

 

The incident deeply affected Allen, who hit .348 before Thomas’ release and just .271 afterwards.

 

Philadelphia, a city that had been one of the last teams to integrate black players into the team, struggled to accept Allen, and he, in return, struggled to accept the city back. The city just wasn’t ready for a black star—especially a rebellious one with a chip on his shoulder.

 

It’s a shame really, because I think if Allen could play in today’s game on a team with Ryan Howard and Jimmy Rollins, he would be a fan favorite.

 

Allen’s woes continued with his name. Allen, who preferred to be called Dick, was referenced as Richie by the local media. His Topps baseball card called him Rich.

 

Furthermore, Allen earned himself a nickname with the Philadelphia crowd—Crash—for his insistence on wearing his batting helmet in the field. This was to protect himself from the fruit, ice, bottles, and other objects constantly thrown at him, but it was perceived negatively by the media.

 

By the late ’60s, Allen had worn out his welcome with the team. His off-field issues overwhelmed him.

 

He was an alcoholic, showing up to games unable to even talk without slurring. At times, he was sent home by Mauch. Allen later stated that drinking was the only way he could deal with his problems.

 

In today’s game, he would most likely be treated with counseling or the substance abuse program, but no such thing existed 40 years ago. Allen was considered a bum.

 

Allen’s problems were frequent and often overhyped. In ’67, he severed the ulna nerve in his right wrist pushing his car up a hill during a storm. Allen’s wrist required a five-hour surgery, and doctors gave him just a 50-50 chance of ever playing ball again.

 

Allen courageously returned to the game, but false rumors leaked that he had injured his hand in a bar fight, and he began to receive constant hate mail. His children were even harassed in school.

 

By that time, Allen had been labeled a bum by the media and decided to play the role.

 

In ’69, Allen was late returning to Shea Stadium for the second half of a doubleheader and fined $2,500. He was later fined for failing to hustle on the basepaths. It got so Allen began to get fined several times a week, the standard being $500 for missing batting practice, $1,000 for drinking, and $1,500 for showing up late to a game.

 

In July of ’69, Allen skipped the second half of a doubleheader to attend a horse race. He heard on the radio that he was suspended and stayed away from the team for 26 days before begrudgingly returning.

 

And Allen didn’t make any friends with his famous remark: “I can play anywhere. First, third, left field, anywhere but Philadelphia.”

 

It got so Allen begged to be traded, particularly to the Mets. There was no such thing as free agency back then, so Allen was stuck with the Phillies. He began to scribble messages in the dirt at first base, saying, “BOO” and “Oct. 2,” which marked the end of the season.

 

MLB commissioner Bowie Kuhn ordered Allen to stop, so Allen wrote, “Why?” and “No.” An umpire eventually ordered Allen to stop, so he responded by writing, “Mom.” This was Allen’s way of saying his mother was the only one who could tell him what to do.

 

Ironically, during the six-game span in which he wrote messages in the dirt, Allen hit five home runs.

 

Following the ’69 season, in which the Phillies finished 37 games out of first place, Allen was mercifully traded to the St. Louis Cardinals. Following a solid season with the Cardinals—.279 average, 34 home runs, 101 RBI—Allen was traded to the Los Angeles Dodgers.

 

He had a solid season with them, hitting 23 home runs with 90 runs batted in, before he was traded to the Chicago White Sox for the ’72 season.

 

Allen then enjoyed the finest season of his career. He batted .308 and led the entire American League in home runs (37), RBI (113), walks (99), on-base percentage (.420), slugging percentage (.603), OPS (1.023), and adjusted OPS (199). For his efforts, Allen was awarded as the AL MVP.

 

Allen is often credited with saving the White Sox, as the franchise was rumored to have been destined for Seattle. Allen stayed three years with the Sox, leading the league in home runs again in ’74, before he was traded to the Braves.

 

He refused to report to Atlanta, retiring instead. The Phillies managed to coax him out of retirement, where he played two years back in the city he had once called home.

 

Allen didn’t quite have the skills he possessed in his first stint with the team back in the ’60s, as he hit just .248 with 27 total home runs in his two years. But he proved to be a positive influence on a young Phillies club that captured the NL East title in ’76.

 

The Philly crowd forgave Allen for his attitude and problems a decade prior, and he seemed to enjoy playing in the city. It was fitting that Allen could come back to the city and make peace with its fans, who had treated him poorly for so many years.

 

Allen became a hero in Philadelphia and was cheered on a regular basis, even for the most routine of plays. The conditions were perfect in Philly, and Allen was a role model, helping to tutor future Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt, the National League home run king in 1976.

 

Allen has always stated that Schmidt reminded him a lot of himself. Both were quiet players who kept to themselves and had difficulty fitting in with their teammates and the fans. Both were power hitters who struck out a lot and had the potential to contend for the MVP award in any given season.

 

Things got a little rough at the end of the season. As the Phillies’ front office was preparing its postseason roster, it became apparent the team planned to leave off 42-year old Tony Taylor, a second baseman who had played for the Phillies for over 15 years.

 

As Taylor was Allen’s closest friend on the team and former roommate, Allen announced he would not be playing in the postseason unless the team made a roster spot for Taylor.

 

The Phillies eventually gave in, and when the team clinched the NL East title, there were two separate celebrations—one for the majority of the team and a private one for Schmidt, Allen, Taylor, Garry Maddox, and Dave Cash.

 

Allen was released by the team after the first round playoff exit, seeing as his best days were behind him. He played one final season as a DH in Oakland before hanging up his cleats for good.

 

No player in history has been as misunderstood as much as Allen. He was unfairly blamed on numerous occasions. He was portrayed by the media as a selfish, me-first kind of player, when in reality, Allen wanted nothing more than to be close to his teammates. He longed for support from the fans and his managers.

 

As it currently stands, Allen works in the Phillies’ front office as a public relations man.

 

When the dust settled after Allen’s career and it came time to evaluate his Hall of Fame chances, voters were unsure just how to factor in Allen’s off-the-field controversial issues. Allen hovered around 15 to 20 percent each year, far less than the 75 percent needed for induction to Cooperstown.

 

Allen was a player who hit 40 home runs just once but probably should have topped that mark half a dozen times. He drove in 100 runs three times but probably should have done that 10 times or more.

 

His defense sure wasn’t his strong suit. He played every position on the field at one time or another (except pitcher and catcher) but never could find a permanent position that could minimize his iron glove. He also struck out far too much and grounded into quite a few double plays,

 

However, Allen’s career slugging percentage of .534 is one of the highest among eligible players not in the Hall of Fame. He never won a World Series ring as a player but certainly made enough of a positive impact on a number of teams.

 

He was a diverse hitter who at one point or another led the league in runs scored, triples, home runs, runs batted in, walks, on-base percentage, slugging percentage, and OPS.

 

His career adjusted OPS of 156 is 19th on the all-time list, higher than the career marks of noted Hall of Fame sluggers such as Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Joe DiMaggio, Frank Robinson, and Mel Ott. He is also tied for seventh all-time for most career walk-off home runs (10).

 

What is holding him back is his attitude on and off the field, but even his managers, when asked if Allen’s attitude negatively affected the team, replied with, “Never.”

 

Simply put, Allen was a heck of a hitter, a better-than-noted team player, and a man with all the talent in the world.

 

Phillies Ride Hot Bats of Ibanez and Utley to Five-Game Win Streak

Pat who?

Rauuuuuuuuuuuul (Ibanez, that is), as the Phillies’ faithful like to call him, sure has brought the Philadelphia Phillies’ offense to the next level.

Chase Utley, Ryan Howard, and Shane Victorino are big helps, too.

Especially that Utley guy who’s batting .357 with seven home runs and 20 RBI this season.

So much for out until June, eh Worldwide Leader in Sports?

Back to Mr. Ibanez.

Hitting at .355 with seven home runs and 17 RBI—the voices questioning the departure of Pat Burrell are slowly backing into a dark corner.

Ibanez has hit the ball to all fields and does so during the most important part of games.

He already has a walk off home run, and gave the Phillies the lead in the eighth inning of Monday’s 13-11 win over the Nationals by hitting a grand slam.

Tonight, Ibanez continued his consistent play with a single right back up the middle and a home run to the deepest part of Citizens Bank Park in left center.

With the help of Ibanez and company, the Phillies have climbed their way to just a half game out of first in the NL East on the hands of a five game winning streak.

The streak began with a three game sweep of the Florida Marlins, who have fallen from 11-1 to 12-8, losing seven out of their last eight.

The fourth win came against the awful Washington Nationals.

Yet, the win didn’t come easy.

It took two grand salami’s and more to give the Phillies a come-from-behind win for the ninth time this season, which leads the majors.

The fifth came earlier this evening in a 7-1 trouncing of the Nationals.

Cole Hamels, who had not pitched particularly well—er, terrible—so far this season, came out to pitch a beautiful four and a third innings.

Well, ah, you see…he…uh…he “rolled” his ankle.

No, this isn’t basketball, but Cole somehow managed to “roll” his ankle.

He left the game after throwing one warmup pitch, yet appeared to walk off the field just fine. He had thrown 61 pitches in 4.1 innings, allowing four hits and no runs while striking out four.

The severity of the injury is not yet clear, yet it is being called a sprain at this point.

Anyway, the Phillies still managed to pull out the 7-1 victory.

Chase Utley hit two home runs (solo shot and a two run home run), Pedro Feliz hit a three run home run, and Raul Ibanez hit a solo shot of his own to account for the seven runs.

Chad Durbin let up the sole Nationals’ run off the bat of Adam Dunn, who clobbered a pitch into the right field seats.

Durbin pitched 3.2 innings, with the Dunn home run being the only hit he allowed.

Durbin would collect the win.

Clay Condrey, the best reliever for the team thus far, finished the game off in the ninth, allowing a hit but nothing more, locking down the Phillies’ fifth straight win.

The Phillies will go for their sixth straight on Wednesday night against the Nationals.

They will also be trying for the sweep. Brett Myers will take the ball for the Phillies, while Scott Olsen will toe the rubber for the Nationals.

Phillie’s Cole Can’t Catch A Break

Cole Hamels had seemed to have it figured out tonight against the Nationals.  The Nats are a good team to get well against, but their offense can show pccasional signs of life. They roughed up the Phillies staff last night, but Hamels had his best combination of velocity and command tonight.  He dominated Washington through four and 1/3 innings at Citizens Bank Park. 

The injury occured as Hamels raced off the mound to field a bunt attempt.  Replays showed a nasty turn of the ankle, but Hamels did walk off the field under his own power. It’s the latest set back for the Phillies ace who left his last start after being struck by a line drive off the bat of Prince Fielder, and missed time in Spring Training with elbow inflammation. 

The Phillies can’t afford for Hamels to miss too much time given the suspect strength of their starting rotation, but the offense remains healthy, staking Hamels to a 5-0 lead courtesy of home runs from Pedro Feliz and Chase Utley who added his second homer of the night in the fifth.

 

Remembering Joe Cowley

Considering the Phillies are having some pitching trouble this year I thought I’d take a trip down memory lane to remember some of the truly awful Phillies pitchers of my youth.  There certainly are a lot of arms to choose from, and perhaps I’ll canonize one a week or so until the Phils turn things around, but I’m starting with the inimitable Joe Cowley. 

Why Cowley comes to mind is that I watched the 1987 Phillies Video Yearbook at least 40 times from about 1988-1991.  It’s a great video, the Phillies had added Lance Parrish (hahaha), and were coming off a 2nd place finish (26 games behind the World Champion Mets).

At one point early in the video Mike Schmidt refers to the Phillies as “The Purple and White” team. Here I thought they wore maroon all those years. 

Along with Parrish, Joe Cowley was an anticipated addition, but his only appearance in the video is during a “montage of ineptitude”.  Cowley is on the mound, the hitter delivers a swinging bunt to the right side of the infield, and Cowley lumbers off the mound after it. 

When he bends down to pick up the bunt, he trips over himself, rolls over the ball, and his hat falls off.  At this point he retrieves the ball, and rolls it over to first base. 

Needless to say, the runner beat the play easily.  Cowley then  lays on the ground for a moment like a beached whale until the video goes to the next scene—this is my best recollection of the video.

Cowley’s final stats for the ’87 Phils:  0-4, 15.43 ERA.  11 2/3 Innings pitched.  21 hits.  17 BBs.  (3.26 WHIP)

Can you imagine being Mike Schmidt, a future Hall of Famer, playing third in your purple and white uniform, and having to watch this? 

Cowley’s ultimate claim to fame:  He’s the only pitcher to throw a no-hitter, and then never win another game.  Yes, you read that right. 

He threw a no-hitter late in the ’86 season, didn’t win again that year, came to the Phils in ’87, made 4 starts, and that was it, goodbye career.  Cheers Joe, you were a shooting star of my youth. 

Coming Next:  Don Carmen, Marvin Freeman, Bobby Munoz, Pat Combs…I don’t know.

                      —Originally Published at Three Putt Territory—

Hitting is Hard. Just Ask Jimmy Rollins

Jimmy Rollins is known for a lot of things—great defense, leadership, swagger—and terrible Aprils.

Rollins took a second day off yesterday in a season that has started slowly, even for him. While the theory that he didn’t get enough at-bats during Spring Training is still out there, it is losing credibility rapidly as Rollins is over 70 plate appearances for the year and still isn’t showing signs of offensive revival. 

The usually confident shortstop sounds humbled these days, as he recently talked about simply getting good at-bats and trying to hit the ball on the barrel. Past history would indicate that Rollins will eventually heat up, and his average will probably rise into the .260s at some point this season.

But for a past MVP, Rollins is a very inconsistent offensive player and probably overrated due to clutch hits and his one career year. 

Jimmy’s biggest problem is when he’s going bad, he’s very bad, as he doesn’t even draw walks. Rollins has three walks this season (the same number as Jamie Moyer), has never drawn 60 in a year, and has never had a .350 on-base percentage. His career high was .349 last season, and that ranked him 76th among MLB regulars. 

Rollins will never be a 100-walk guy, lead the league in OBP, or be a prototypical leadoff hitter, but this is his 10th year in the league, and it would be nice to see a little growth and maturity. 

Rollins has to realize he’s going bad, see as many pitches as possible, and try to get on base. If he could work a couple walks, steal some bags, and score some runs, it might alleviate some of the pressure and build some confidence.

You have to take the good with the bad with Rollins’ play, and the way things have started this season, we’re due for a long run of the good. 

It can’t come soon enough.

 

Article first published at Three Putt Territory

Phillies-Nationals: Two Grand Slams Power Philly

Leading into the bottom of the eighth inning, the Fightin’ Phils were down by four and fans everywhere collectively wondered if their team had any fight left in them.

With Garrett Mock pitching for the Nationals, the fans looked on as the Phillies slowly got men on base looking to turn to tide.

With Jimmy Rollins sitting on second after a double and Pedro Feliz waiting on third, none other than the Flyin’ Hawaiian stepped up to the plate. Victorino would end up hitting a sacrifice fly that would send Feliz home and shorten the gap to 11-8.

As Rollins moved into position at third, Chase Utley stepped up and singled to right field, allowing Rollins to score and get the stadium on its feet.

In an effort to stifle the momentum, the Nationals took Mock out and put Joel Hanrahan on the mound. Making mistakes early on, Hanrahan would allow Utley to make it to second on a wild pitch and ended up walking both Ryan Howard and Jayson Werth.

At this point, each of the 41,620 fans in attendance were waiting for another miracle. We were already lucky enough to see Ryan Howard nail a grand slam in the bottom of the fifth, now, if Raul Ibanez could pull off the same feat, we would not only close the gap, but also be winning by two.

Sure enough, Raul sent one sailing as the stadium erupted all around him and the four Phillies made their way home.

Ibanez, picked up in the offseason by the Phils, showcased his true value when he proved to every last fan in attendance that he could make it happen if the team needs him too.

As the inning drew to a close on a Matt Stairs strikeout, an unforeseen victory was now only three outs away.

Ryan Madsen stepped up to the mound and, sure enough, closed out the game. In the end, the Fightin’ Phils proved that they truly are a force to be reckoned with and that you cannot count them out of a game. Ever.

Baseball: No Place For Old Men?

Late bloomers—that’s what the Phils’ seem to be. They’ve bloomed late in a season, in a game, and in an inning. I know how they feel. I’m a late bloomer too. Some of us take a while to catch on, but that doesn’t mean we won’t find our stride eventually. Like the past season’s Mr. September, Ryan Howard, it takes me some time to warm up too. 

 

Growing up I always thought the inflated number at the top of the holy trinity (34-24-34) was a genetic lottery. I thought you either had it or you didn’t. But then I figured out it’s not what you have, it’s how you use it. 

 

Just ask Jamie Moyer. 

 

Strategy goes a long way. Moyer knows how, what, when, where, and why to throw to whom. And if the ump’ stretches the strike zone a micrometer and a few rookie hitters step to the plate, Jamie’s the man. 

 

With a little underwire and some padding, I’m the babe. The older babe. 

 

But age isn’t something that’s coveted in our society and some would argue baseball’s no place for old men. But I think Susan Boyle is a symbol that age isn’t the culprit—it’s aging. The Phils’ get this, Jamie Moyer understands this, Matt Stairs has a grasp, and Raul’s like fine wine, getting better with time. 

 

Personally I favor experience over talent and patience over speed. Old guys tend to have a little stiffness but I know how to take care of that too.

 

And as we’ve seen, success isn’t achieved simply by buying the best. The Yankees are a good example. Success is about chemistry, timing, and patience, and all that comes from experience. 

 

Sure we let Pat Burrell go but look where he went. Tampa Bay needed an experienced leader and they got it. To replace Burrell, we got Raul Ibanez. His timing has been perfect. Raul and the Phils’ have chemistry. My only problem is I’m impatient—good or bad, I can’t wait to see how this season plays out.

 

Phils vs. Nats: Welcome to the Slugfest

It was a weird night at Citizens Bank Park.

 

How weird was it?

 

It was so weird that a girl stood up in front of us to order a drink and took nearly thirty minutes to finish the transaction. Someone sold a ticket to a tree sloth. 

 

It was so weird that when the guys in section 144 started insulting the Nats left fielder, no one joined in. 

 

It was so weird that when someone behind us asked, “Where’s the beer man?” I turned around to see a child of four.

 

It was so weird that Blanton struck out the side in the first and then forgot how to locate a pitch.

 

But the weirdest thing was what happened when Ryan Howard stepped to the plate with the bases loaded, Phils down by four, and did something he hasn’t done since 2007.  

 

When he tapped the bat to the plate, you didn’t hear the usual mixture of “please, Ryan, please,” peppered heavily with the pessimistic, “he’ll probably strike out.” Instead it was like peace and love had blanketed the field, raising fans to their feet like they were levitating.  It was such a fantastical display of optimism and excitement that I knew only one thing could be true: Bin Laden really was dead.

 

It must be true.  When has any other team come from behind four times to win a game?  What happened tonight could only be viewed as mystical.  Even the scoreboard displayed hits and runs in such a consistently even form: 2-2, 5-5, 7-7, 10-10, and 11-11, that everyone sensed synchronicity in the air.  And it promised to work for someone.  So the Phils picked their magic number and put runs on the board in fours: first by Ryan, then by Raul.  Tonight, grand slams came in R’s. 

 

But not all went well.  I lost count of how many batters walked to base for both teams.  Our pitching was so bad, I almost started believing my own theory of the Carlos curse, and it was so bad I almost expected Charlie to call up Cody Ross from the Marlins to close.  But honestly, I think there was a lightness to the air that made sinkers sink, cutters cut, and sliders slide completely out of control. 

 

It was the same lightness that hoisted five home runs into the stands for the Nats, some of which may have set distance records.  I think one landed in a cheesesteak stand.  They flew so far the only thing our outfielders did was sigh. 

 

Even Jimmy Rollins got a break.  It was like mild mannered Jimmy finally found his cape and mask and appeared from the dugout like the old “J ‘Mighty’ Ro,” the superhero we love and missed.  I think he went 3 for 5.  Welcome back J Ro.

 

But alas, I felt bad for the Nationals.  They have the worst record in the MLB, but it’s not for lack of trying.  Our fielding was phenomenal.  And have you seen their batting averages?  They’re really no worse than ours.  I guess there’s no shame in losing a game by two when you scored eleven. The shame lies in losing a game when you scored eleven.

 

So, babes and gents, welcome to the slugfest.  We hope you enjoyed the show.  Tune in again Tuesday.  Maybe it’ll get even weirder.

Washington Nationals Done In by Six-Run Eighth: The Good, Bad, and Ugly

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