I called Dad minutes after Brad Lidge closed out the Series for the Phillies. I told him that this moment- the Phillies winning the World Series- is amazing, but ultimately ranks second behind the Red Sox winning in 2004.
It surpasses the Sox winning last year- and is a solid second place. It was serious fun, the utmost enjoyment corners of the world were hit and conquered. People in the bar, they threw their arms in the air when it was over and they never came down. Yelling, cheering, hugs, kisses- the kind of excitement reserved for the absolute best New Year's Eve of your life. It was some goddamn pure & beautiful American fun. And then, then it was on to Broad Street. We didn't know why. No one did. But upon leaving the Kite & Key, it was the place to go and off we went. Every driver of a car honked their horn and people zig-zagged in flip flops and Air Jordans, garishly crossing the streets yelling out loud, Go Phillies. They would yell and people who you couldn't even see would yell back, Go Phillies, and then another group of people, funneling out of another bar, would yell, Go Phillies!
So onto Broad Street and the sea of people that were flooding down it. Down Broad Street, towards City Hall, thousands and thousands of revelers dressed in both well-worn and well-kinda recently bought Phillies' t-shirts jumped and danced down the street. They all yelled out, they all screamed at the tipitity top of their lungs- GO PHILLIES! All of these kids with beers crammed in their backpacks ran wild next to the cagey vets, slugging dirty whiskey out of flasks. More horns honking, cars over-flowing with passengers- they're jumping on the roof!- and pity the poor soul who left their car out on Broad Street that night because baby it was tipped the hell over and then stomped on for good measure! No car left unturned- very diligent revel rousers and we got to City Hall and it was lawless. Completely lawless. Cops watched as a massive group of youngsters shook and shimmied a rented box truck- Enterprise and oh, the poor bastard who rented that truck- the cops looked on as kids hung from traffic lights and drank their booze in a fabulously brazen manner. The cops didn't care, man.
The Phillies, yes the Phillies, had won the World Series. They beat the Rays who beat the Sox and who managed to annoy the better part of America- the people of course in the great Northeast were already annoyed with those brash bastards from the bay. Their stadium is a joke. It's a mall. Everything good you heard is true and everything bad you'd expect is true as well. That is the Tampa Bay Rays- deserving of the hype and deserving of the backlash.
Really, the Phillies winning was...
It was killer.
Big and I went to the parade yesterday and all I'll say, is that...we decided to go to City Hall- seemed like a good point and seemed, when we got there, that everyone had thought the exact same thing. But we wormed through the crowds and found a place that was really, as good as any. Four women were standing on the bench in front of us, holding hands, holding their ground. The one woman on the end, a turtle-looking, angry soccer/dirty hockey mom hybrid, kept turning around, looking at me, eyeing me up. She thought I was going for the bench- her bench, the woman that her and her Phillies-loving ladyfriends had probably claimed hours ago, but I wasn't. It was narrow. They had been there first. I was resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to see shit, but I still wanted to try. But she kept looking and when the crowd started getting up and amped and loud and louder, the woman turned and yelled to someone behind me, bring him here. A moment later, an Asian gentleman, pushed past me and with a youngster in his arms, climbed up onto the bench. Well shit, now I really couldn't see a damn thing and now I had some Asian gentleman's ass in my face. The child started crying- he didn't want to be there and the Asian gentleman handed him down to an Asian woman, who brought the child tight into her arms.
They're coming, the Turtle woman, said to the Asian gentleman. They keep coming and pushing and I was worried about the little one. I was, because they're gonna push up. They already are.
And this Turtle woman kept looking at me everytime she said they. Every single time. She finished a sentence, letting the last few words hang there and she brought her tortoise eyes back to my direction. Her eyes accused me, they were declaring that me, just Ryno, fully intended on trampling little babies to catch a glimpse of the Phillies.
I called her out on it.
Are you talking about me? I asked.
No, no, Turtle woman replied.
You're looking right at me. I said.
They're gonna push up.
I know! You've said that. Several times. And each time you looked at me. I'm not they. No. If anything, they are pushing me around. I'm a victim.
The Turtle woman turned away.
Just like they always do.