With apologies to Peter Gabriel…

RED REIGN is coming down… RED REIGN

RED REIGN is pouring down… Pouring down all over me

I am standing up at the waters edge in my dream

I cannot make a single sound as you scream

It can’t be that cold… the ground is still warm to touch

This place is so quiet, sensing that storm

 

RED REIGN is coming down… RED REIGN

RED REIGN is pouring down… Pouring down all over me

 

Well I’ve seen them buried in a sheltered place in this town

They tell you that this REIGN can sting, and look down

There is no blood around… I see no sign of pain

Seeing no RED at all, see no REIGN

 

RED REIGN is coming down… RED REIGN

RED REIGN is pouring down… Pouring down all over me

 

Putting the pressure on much harder now… To return again and
again

Just let the RED REIGN splash you… Let the REIGN fall on
your skin

I come to you defenses down… With the trust of a child

 

RED REIGN is coming down… RED REIGN

RED REIGN is pouring down…Pouring down all over me

 

And I can’t watch any more… No more denial

It’s so hard to lay down in all of this

RED REIGN is coming down

RED REIGN is pouring down

RED REIGN is coming down all over me

 

I see it

 

RED REIGN is coming down

RED REIGN is pouring down

RED REIGN is coming down all over me

 

I’m bathing in it

 

RED REIGN coming down

RED REIGN is coming down

RED REIGN is coming down all over me

 

I’m begging you

 

RED REIGN coming down

RED REIGN coming down

RED REIGN coming down

RED REIGN coming down

 

Over me in the RED RED sea

Over me… Over me

RED
REIGN…

The Philadelphia Phillies are the National League Champions… AGAIN.

I have had the good fortune to see a few awesome Phillies events live: the first World Series game ever played at Veteran’s Stadium, Terry Mulholland’s no-no, the 1983 and 93 NLCS clinchers, the final game at the Vet, the first at the Vault… but last night was somehow better, despite not actually being there – it won’t take
away from the magic of the moment.

Nothing could.

(I envy my brother-in-law and PhoulBallz
and a lot of other people today!)

Like last year’s version, the WFC’s, the 09 Phillies have a “feel” that is hard to describe. You never get the feeling any game is over, no matter the score or deficit or inning. Against the Rockies, Games 3 & 4 were epic see-saw affairs, decided only at the end. Now against the Dodgers, leads are changing hands as often as Paris Hilton changes outfits.

In last night’s instant classic, an early 2-0 lead, courtesy of the most destructive force ever to play in Phillies pinstripes (I love you, Schmitty, but Ryan Howard is literally THE BOMB), was wiped out in the middle innings when Joe Blanton stumbled. Still, despite the mess, the deficit was never more than 2, at 4-2.

My quote at the time: “Yeah, as if they won’t put something together to push the issue.”

Three batters later it was 4-3 and every trip to the plate was the tying run. The bullpen did an imitation of its 2008 self and shut the door – or maybe the Dodgers lost interest in the deepening cold – and you had to think something might happen in the 9th, Jonathan “Nuke LaLoosh” Broxton notwithstanding.

A calm came over me. I sat with a smile and watched. Rauuuul grounded out, the smile held. Here comes Matt Stairs. You could almost see Broxton’s sphincter pucker shut. Four “I don’t want anything to do with you” balls later, the tying run moved 90 feet closer. The next pitch subtracted another 90 feet when Chooch got whooched with a fastball off the elbow.

(Aside: he won’t get MVP, but Carlos Ruiz is clearly a big reason this team wins.)

Greg Dobbs enters. My usual “ugh” moment that came with most of Dobbs 09 appearances was noticeably missing. The thought of a DP never entered my mind. Bloop, nope, not going to get to left. OK, two outs. Jimmy is up.

Laser, foul back, 0-1.
Laser, off the plate, 1-1

Something odd came over me, a feeling of complete and absolute certainty as to what would come next. The “how” wasn’t part of it, but the “why” was obvious: this is what they do, you can’t explain it, it just happens.

Me to self (aloud, yes, I talk to myself on occasion): “OK, Jimmy, you got this guy.” It wasn’t an angry thought, but something more positive. Like I said, a feeling that all was in hand.

Laser, reverse and more intense laser in the opposite direction, to the emptiness between Kemp and Ethier, at an angle that will prevent either from getting the carom they need to make a play on Chooch, running like his pants are on fire from first. I jump up, screaming with joy, THE GAME IS OVER, YES, YES, YES…

It would be over an hour before enough of the euphoria faded to allow me to sleep. That’s OK, sleep is over-rated in October. This is the Playoffs and it feels like VICTORY.

Goddamn, I love this game.

It’s Friday, it’s wet (at least in my tiny spec of the world), and I have a few things on my mind… in no particular order of importance, here are things I think I think…

• Phillies and Rockies head west tied 1-1 in NLDS…

I think this is a good series so far. OK, yes, it’s supposed to be tundra cold this weekend in Colorado. Big stinkin’ whoop. Both teams have to endure the EXACT SAME WEATHER… just like the Hurricane Pretzel winds from Game 1. It favors neither side.

• President Obama gets a Nobel Peace Prize…

I think this might be the tipping point that puts Glenn Beck and the rest of the thought-challenged Right over the edge. Jimmie Carter, Al Gore, and now the devil himself, Prez O, ALL have NPP’s? What’s the world coming to? Oh, yeah, that’s right, all three – and the Nobel committee – GET IT!

• They call them RULES for a reason…

I think the statement “let the players decide” spoken in a derogatory fashion towards a sports official is the STUPIDEST THING EVER. A Mr. J. Everett Prewitt of Cleveland (I could just stop there, but I’ll go on) opined the following in the latest S.I. re: Serena “Roid Rage” Williams: “… in the final moments, games should be won or lost by the players and not the officials.” Uh, yeah, no kidding, but at NO POINT do the rules of ANY SPORT have a “here are the rules for the final/big/key moment…” section. Suggesting we (and I can say we because I’m a long-time baseball umpire) ignore the rules based on situations is an insult.

• Here comes the Sun…

I think reading “solar activity may cause temporary interruption in the broadcast” – the scrolling message during Game 1 of the Phillies/Rockies series on TBS – was kind of funny. Maybe THAT’S why Chris Wheeler is and was so awful all season.

• Play smart, it usually works out better…

I think the Flyers need to ignore who is in the other sweaters, especially when said sweaters have a skating penguin on them. Seriously, three mostly solid games were tossed out the window in last night’s stink fest 5-4 loss to the SCC’s from western PA. Too much trying to make a statement instead of just making the statement with good play.

• Number of trophies does NOT mean ‘good sports town’…

I think the results of the recent poll putting Pittsburgh at the top of the list of sports towns was flawed in more ways than I have space remaining. In short, it’s NOT about only the trophies. This area is NOT A GOOD SPORTS TOWN. Period.

Nuff said. Catch you guys later.

The Phillies are the 2009 National League East Champions!

For the first time in more than a week, the sky is a perfect blue and the sun is shining. That is not a metaphor – it really is clear, cool, and seriously sunny here in western PA. I’ve lived on this side of the state for the past 14 years or so, but I’ve never stopped “living” in Philadelphia… and I’ll never stop loving baseball and the team I grew up with, the Phillies.

That kind of love is not easy – is ANY love easy? – and I’ve taken a lot of bumps and bruises over the years…

…the 1977 & 78 playoff series against the Dodgers that can be described as nothing more than “bizarre” [Really, Danny? Bull still in left in the 9th? Really?... Uh, Mr. Kuhn, it's RAINING, are you sure we have to play?]…

…the Saturday night special maroon pajama uniforms of 1979 [yeah, I spent $200 I didn't have to get one, Ramon Aviles - remember him?]…

…the magic of 1980 [the Astros series - yes, they were a pain in the *** back then too... the WS Gm. 1 comeback - Bowa steals second down 4-0... Del Unser delivers (again) in Gm. 5... Boone drops it, but Rose snags it out of the air... McGraw K's Wilson (again; poor guy K'd 12 times in 6 games)]…

…the strike mangled 81 season [losing a Game 5 at home to the Expos? With Lefty going? Ugh]… the geriatric theatrics of the 83 Wheeze Kids NL Pennant [Beat LA! Beat LA! Get in the Cadillac, Sarge]… the emptiness of most of the 80′s and 90′s [Felske, Elia, Leyva, Francona? Really, Dave Montgomery?]…

…the Animal House chaos of the 93 NL Championship [you youngin's ain't seen a blown save like a Mitch Williams Wild Thing blown save... Hey, Braves, we got your Tomahawk Chop right here!]… the 2002 thru 2006 teases [it's right there, guys, just take it already]…

…running down the Mets, twice [hey, New York, ya got something stuck in your throat over there]… and the perfection and joy that was 2008 ["World F'g Champions" - thanks, Chase, nuff said]…

…but at the end of the day, it’s been worth it. It led to today, and today looks pretty good from where I’m sitting. The hangover lasted longer than expected (yeah, everyone knows you’re WFC’s already, lose the damn patch), the perfection slipped away (10 losses when leading after 8 inning, ouch), and the injuries and questions nagged more than your mother (Moyer’s hurt? can ANYONE close a game?), but this bunch of guys pushed through it and we wake up this morning looking at another flag over Ashburn Alley.

Part 2 begins Wednesday. I can’t wait to see what’s next. But, hey, isn’t that what makes love worth it? It might hurt like hell at times, but goddamn, the make-up sex is awesome.