After "attending" the all out citywide celebrations resulting from The Phillies World Series win, I felt as if I had experienced a week's...no, make that a month's excitement in the constraints of a single day. And I loved every minute of it. As I inferred before, I love a spectacle! Well...usually.
Realizing that I would be witness to a scope of celebration unprecedented in Philadelphia, I made some hasty arrangements to get "in the game". Allow me to explain a few things about myself in relation to this event, some which may seem quite contradictory.
I have never been a fan of commercial sports as I find most of them as elaborate corporate sponsored money making franchises that feature overrated vastly overpaid athletes at their helm (usually). That being said, the integration of commercial sports in Philly culture is all but inescapable. Most of my friends and family are tremendous (if not zealous) sports enthusiasts...to state it mildly. I can find more constructive uses for my time than to sit idly by watching a bunch of over glorified athletes zip about, making more money in an hour than I will likely earn all year. But to each their own I suppose.
Of all the major commercial sports however, I have begrudging respect for baseball. I find it something of a legacy game, a classic staple of Americana in a sense. And also as I have recently stated, I perennially "owe" The Phillies for "granting" me a day off from school when they last won The World Series back in 1980. That event experienced as a nine year old resident in working class "rough 'n tumble" Southwest Philly is completely unforgettable and without peer. Though like today I never followed sports, I realized that it was indeed "something special" when The Phillies were in the championship games. I watched practically every bit of it, periodically dashing outside to play a quick game of "manhunt" with neighborhood pals in the interim.
One outstanding "neighborhood pal" of the time was my childhood best friend who has been deceased for nearly 15 years now. He was a part of that happy time and I vividly remember how excited the both of us were. When The Phillies won in 1980 against The KC Royals, my whole neighborhood erupted in an explosion of jubilation - the likes I had never seen. Riding around in my mom's best friend's car bearing witness to such made an indelible impression. Then getting the "opportunity" to attend the parades (day off from school and all!) and having an authentic Italian dinner in South Philly at my "straight off the boat" Sicilian great-grandmother's house (I can still smell that enticing aroma and taste those homemade meatballs and spaghetti!) was sheer delight.
So those are the reasons why I "converted" to Phillies Phanatacism for the last week or so. If you hail from Philadelphia, such events are inescapable in their influence on its citizenry. The pull and allure of nostalgia can be strong. And I fell completely under its sway when The Phillies won it a few days back.
I wanted it to be that somewhat idyllic happier time I experienced all over again. Well, perhaps my so-called inner child did. Well, I decided to let that bastard have his wish...The Phillies won! Time to celebrate!
I admit that I gave a few shouts of cheer and even jumped up and down in my living room when those Tampa Bay Devil Rays struck out. I have nothing against that team but for the moment, The Phillies were MY team. They were familiar to me, almost intimately. This coming from a non-sports fan. But hey, my dad took me to see them play more than a few times during the 70s and this winning event made a lot of my friends and family happy. So why not join in the festivities?
And join in I did. Realizing the magnitude this event would have, I tried in vain to make some arrangements to spend the night before the big parade somewhere relatively close to the city. And ironically, for the first time in my life (no lie), I was unable to find a proverbial "room at the inn" anywhere. I would not dare ask a relative to accommodate myself and two true-blue baseball fan friends who wanted to attend the citywide party. Even Carol "turned me down" as her home was already "booked" by some out of town relations.
Would I actually have to break down and get a motel room somewhere? I mean...The Philadelphia metro area is like the old world to me. I have a relative and friend in almost every town in the region. But I could not stoop to paying a visit exclusively on the grounds of wanting to hobnob at an urban megafest the morning after my late night arrival. No...it looked grim. The only salvation was to attempt an early wakeup and commute up to the city somehow.
But all was not lost. After a phone call with "HB" who wanted to join up with brother Sean and "Irish Dan", already en route to Philadelphia, I brainstormed one possible option. As expected, my Uncle was more than amiable towards accommodating me and my entourage for the night - as long as my grandmother (his mother naturally) approved also. She did. It was game on!
Arriving at 2am, we quickly settled in for a short night's sleep, but not without some anticipated "small talk" between my Uncle and I. Trying to iron out the next day's details, my Uncle gamely (lotsa sports references, I know) offered to drive us into the heart of the city - something I would not dream of undertaking myself. I pleaded with him to take a pragmatic look at what daunting conditions he would likely encounter in doing so. He was unflappable. The game was on.
Somehow managing to get a few hours sleep, I awoke to my grandmother traipsing around Brian and "HB" on her living room. I am unsure if she was astonished or merely casually surprised. But all was well. Within minutes, everyone was up and about in an attempt to get ready for the big day. Prior to arriving, I had made some preliminary plans with one time childhood "old flame" Marybeth to get together early to catch a spot on the parade route. I liked her suggestions as they were steeped in practical order, something I sensed the impending day would lack sorely. But the best laid plans of mice and men and ladies were laid astray...a toothache issue nullified Mary's involvement (well at least at first before circumstances later worked out for the better for her). Was all hope lost?
Nay. A quick retooling by my Uncle lead to new arrangements. We would "compress" into his car, retrieve my brother Sean a few miles away en route, then attempt to park somewhere in the downtown city limits. Everything went smoothly...until our arrival in Center City Philly. As expected, it was the epitome of sheer congestion. Millions of people were concentrated about the streets and sidewalks. Good luck in finding a place to park. Growing impatient, HB and Sean bailed out of my Uncle's car and headed towards the ballpark. A few minutes later, Brian and I did so as well as my Uncle realized the commotion would be too overwhelming for his liking. An the game was on again.
Wandering in a mass of humanity along miles of city streets trailing whatever parade there happened to be, I was completely floored. Back in 1996, I once marched in a Mardi Gras parade masquerading as a musician in an attempt to get a cheap all expense paid trip to New Orleans. That event was the only comparable event in my frame of reference to what I was seeing. Endless upon endless crowds of diehard fans and supporters of The Phillies, all in ecstasy and exhilaration. Some form of Pandemonium transpired but all in all it was an enormously festive time. I must have been high fived more times on my way to the ballpark than in my whole life preceding.
These crowds were happy folks, finally satiated with having their home team secure a victory after the most seeming insurmountable odds. Even the elements attempted to stave off a win...but at very long last, The Phillies - and the city of Philadelphia through proxy, prevailed. This was the long awaited day of celebration and I admit to being completely swept up in the excitement that such a unique social event can provide.
As we slowly "progressed" towards everyone's common destination, I took in as much as I could. All around me there were spectacles and displays of jubilation and unbridled enthusiasm that could only come about as a result of decades of gratification denied. I documented as much as I could with my trusty camera, periodically mingling with folks along the way and even scoring a cameo on live TV with celebrity Philadelphia news reporter, Don Polec (see my current display picture!) who I must admit was a very good sport. To say that the day was proving interesting was a vast understatement.
After apparent mile after mile of an endless wave of the most passionate fans you could ever hope to meet, we wended our way to the ballpark (known as Citizens Bank Park but I am loathe to reference it as such as the mass corporate sponsorship of such facilities chafes against my sensibilities) where the throngs of crowds were their thickest. Brian and I even managed to get right inside the gates in a futile attempt to "sneak" into an invitation only event that only select fans could participate in. I was satisfied enough with merely grazing the gates and once again, ploddingly wandered back out towards the parking lot area.
While there, Brian and I miraculously reunited with Sean and HB and exchanged accounts. We all partook of some libations that HB had managed to provide and discussed strategies on somehow finding a way back to our starting points. In the meantime, a jumbotron was setup for those of us stuck outside the stadium gates. The gratuitous victory celebration ceremony featuring the all-star baseball players was commencing, with Chase Utley even dropping the "f-bomb" during his segment. I KNEW that would be uncensored on live TV as it caught everyone off guard - but to no one's disappointment assuredly. It was a wild brouhaha, messy, sloppy, and chaotic. But the masses were happy. A party of epic proportions if there ever was one to behold.
After the ceremony concluded, we staggered about the parking lot and met up with M.I.A. "Irish Dan". The five of us then headed back the way we came, along with at least thousands of others who collectively had the same idea. Sean, HB, and Irish Dan suddenly decided to continue the party on their own by heading out to an area clubhouse - of which Brian and I declined. I had made previous plans with Marybeth, my Uncle and grandmother, and cousin Al to have dinner at favorite mainstay Dynasty Chinese Buffet for a "post game" event gathering and I was intent on ensuring my attendance. But the looming question remained unanswered...HOW on earth would we manage to make it back? Traffic was paralyzing the whole metropolitan area. Public transportation had been suspended all day as a result of the overload of spectators to the day's event. Hopes of escape had been dashed. It appeared we were stuck.
Not so. "Lady Luck" came to the rescue somehow. Just as Brian and I approached the Oregon Station subway terminal, public transportation was beginning to resume. And it was free...a four letter word I like. Compliments of the city of brotherly love. Somehow, Brian and I managed to squeeze onto the subway with just enough room to exhale and inhale. That train was completely packed. During the ride (which consisted of a number of connecting routes and a trolley), a number of ambitious fans started a rallying cry and cheer for The Phillies, leading to a raucous spectacle that further fueled the prevailing spirit of the day. Again, I did my best to document this jovial "bedlam" via my camera of which had its battery all but depleted at this juncture.
After some crossed wires, we managed to make a rendezvous with my Uncle and headed back to his home. My grandmother awaited there, eager to hear of the day's events. I then tried with persistent effort to make contact with Mary to ensure her that our gathering would not be canceled. Miraculously, everything fell into place and I admit that I couldn't have asked for a more satisfying day. And as an extra bonus, just prior to our departure my Uncle (a professional musician of enormous competence and aptitude) gave us a private performance in his cellar of which I was completely blown away by. Seriously...he is one skilled cat.
With Sean, HB, and Irish Dan lost somewhere in the city, Brian and I said our goodbyes and exited back to Wildwood. It's an 85 miles ride of which I had very little endurance for. I was completely exhausted by the day's events but I loved every damned minute of it. Running on fumes as opposed to my car, I arrived alive and intact and promptly climbed into bed for a slumber of at least 10 hours. It was a good day.
Philadelphia...you're a messy, dirty, crude city at times. But I know you best. In spite of being in countless other cities everywhere, the familiarity that comes back upon my return to you never seems to fade. Sometimes I am unsure if that's a good thing...but it certainly was on this occasion. 'Til we meet again.
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