Dear Philadelphia Phillies,
How ya doin’, Utley? What’s shakin’, Rollins? ’Sup, Hamels? I imagine you all are very busy these days, what with winning the World Series last week. And, while we’re on the subject, let me just say, Wow! Congrats! Yippee! Other exclamatory remarks!
As a born and raised Phillies fan, I can fully appreciate your achievement. After all, it has been 28 years since the Phillies’ last World Series title. No offense, boys, but I don’t think it’s any secret: Philadelphia teams don’t win championships. It just doesn’t happen. Some people have even claimed that Philadelphia is cursed. This is the most probable theory, in my opinion. Is there a witch out there who’s got it in for Philadelphia sports teams, who endorses J.K. Rowling and stirs a cauldron of bubbling poison? You betchya. Her name is Mildred. She’s got warts and lives in a house made of candy.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Every year, for every sport, we Philly fans get our paraphernalia together, eager to cheer on our teams. And for a while, these said teams seem to do really well — so well, in fact, that we start to see the magic, the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe, we think, this year will be our year; maybe we will actually win it this time! But in the end, we are always the team with fewer touchdowns, with the lower final score and with sunken aspirations. But we finally did it!
So, I guess what I’m trying to say is: It’s about darn time.
And now, the city’s going nuts! After the game, there were fireworks going up from every corner of town. Champagne and beer coated the streets. Traffic lights were knocked down. Imagine a thousand horns honking and even more people dancing in the streets. And did I mention the parade held in your honor during Halloween? All this in celebration of you!
So even though I’m super proud of you guys and couldn’t be happier for the City of Brotherly Love, I can’t help but notice that this World Series title comes a mere two years after I have left for college — which, inconveniently, is in Virginia. Meaning that I haven’t been able to observe the joyous pandemonium currently sweeping through Philadelphia personally. Instead, I have had to experience it vicariously through my mom and dad. And when you are living through your parents, you know you’ve hit rock bottom. I’m just saying.
I lived 18 years of my life in this city, only to be left brokenhearted by every sports team, every year. But now that I’m away, you’re hitting homers, pitching no-hitters and stealing bases? What is this — a conspiracy? Mildred’s idea of a funny little joke?
As a solution, I’ve tried to get my friends here at the University enthusiastic about your victory. I tell them all about our mascot, the Philly Phanatic, about the killer cheesesteaks at Citizens Bank Park and about how an electric Liberty Bell swings back and forth when someone hits a home run. I do all this, only to be met by blank stares and bored expressions. These kids just don’t get it. No, I need to be home for a championship so I can join in the excitement of my fellow Philadelphians.
So I was thinking, maybe next time we could coordinate this sort of thing? If it’s feasible for you, I mean. Perhaps you could adjust your playoff schedule next season so that the World Series coincides with my Fall Break? Or we could delay the whole thing until I come home for Thanksgiving? Whichever is easier for you would be great. I’m not picky.
In the meantime, I’ll stay in Charlottesville and gather some Philly kids — they’ve gotta be around somewhere — and we’ll celebrate on our own. And of course, no hard feelings about the scheduling mix-up. I could never be anything but proud of the boys who broke Mildred’s curse!
Your fan,
Lauren
Lauren’s column runs biweekly Thursdays. She can be reached at l.kimmel@cavalierdaily.com.
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