Nothing but blue skies yesterday in Philadelphia for the big love parade, which was supposed to take 90 minutes to go about four miles down Broad Street and ended up taking three hours to reach Citizens Bank Park. I was in the park solely because of the Phillies, who offered free tix to their season ticket holders, and because of my mother, who when I mentioned that offer to her said, "Get tickets!" I thought she was crazy but she turned out to be dead right.
Along with a packed house of fans, we watched the parade unfold on the big screen. It was a stunning, stunning sea of red and white all along the route. Simply amazing. Pat Burrell, the longest-tenured player and a key team leader, led the parade, riding on the Budweiser (what, not Yuengling) wagon, with his wife and English bulldog Elvis, himself a fixture at the ballpark, seated behind him.
Burrell was also the first player to enter the ballpark, riding this time in a convertible, again with Elvis. This picture shows why Pat the Bat was called Pat the Bait by his teammates, who often used him at bars as a chick magnet. All fans present knew too that yesterday may have been a bittersweet farewell to the slugger. It was greatly gratifying that the Phillies won it all while he was still on the team. He worked hard for this moment and always got what it was all about to play in Philadelphia.
Some of the many "moments" yesterday at the park that stood out: Pat Gillick, who is a baseball genius and soon-to-be Hall of Famer, gave three succinct thank-you's, including one to Charlie Manuel. His nickname's not Cholly, roared Gillick. It's Fook! Fook! It's Fook. The reference was to Manuel's middle name of Fuqua. In truth, his nickname is Fook. But it was funny to hear Pat Gillick, on the final day of his three-year tenure with the Phillies, get suddenly so animated.
Then there was Charlie Manuel, now an iconic folk hero, holding the WS trophy and concluding his comments on a quintessential Rocky note, "Yo, man! We luv ya!"
Shane Victorino also spoke but what remains with me is seeing Shane, as he red-carpeted it to the dias, stooping to pick up a Cracker Jacks bag dropped by one of the players' kids, who were seated on the field, and taking it over to someone to get rid of. A simple gesture that says a lot about the kind of person Shane Victorino is.
Also unforgettable was Jayson Werth, dressed in rocker glitz and glitter and wearing one of those humongous red fists. A nice touch, too, was the inclusion of Triple-A lifers Mike Cervenak and Andy Tracy, who had come up in September, along with prospects Greg Golson and Lou Marson.
Cole Hamels was all fired up. "The one thing I cannot wait to do is go down that Broad Street parade again and again and again. We'll see you all at this point next year." And it didn't sound at all like an empty campaign promise. Meanwhile, Brett Myers, who has had a fair share of trials, bared his soul in a love letter to the city and to its fans.
Jamie Moyer, the local product who grew up a Phillies fan, spoke to his roots. When a high school student, he had come into Philly for the 1980 parade and had dreamed about some day being in something similar himself. It happened after his first ever WS appearance and there was no doubt that for Moyer it was a dream come true. A lasting image from the onfield festivities after the last game was Jamie Moyer wandering around the field with a big chunk of wood in his arms. He had dug up the pitching rubber and was, I guess, taking it with him.
I realized again yesterday why Chase Utley, looking rather devastating in black and grey, is one of my favorite ever ball players. The guy's got real edge. No wonder his teammates revere him. He took the mike, leaned in and said, "World champions!" Roar of the crowd. Then the quiet, intense Utley leaned in again and said, "World f***ing champions!" The crowd went absolutely mad while Jayson Werth pumped that big red fist and the other guys fell all over themselves. It was a totally priceless moment. I love Chase Utley. It's unbelievably silly that he's now taking any flack for this.
Utley almost left the always-eloquent Jimmy Rollins, who spoke last, at a loss for words. Well, hard to follow Chase, said a laughing Jimmy, who then talked about the Mets (boo went the crowd) and that Mr. Johan Santana, a very good pitcher. But, said Jimmy, it takes more than one man to bring home a championship. And, gesturing to everyone on the stand, that's what we have here. Sure you can take Jimmy's words as a sports cliche, but it's a cliche for a reason and the 2008 Phillies embody what it takes to be a team of champions. They've got their share of superstar players (Rollins, Howard, Utley, Hamels) and at least one, Brad Lidge, who had a megastar year, but it took every single guy on the roster working together for them to win the World Series. Not to mention manager, coaches (and where was Davy Lopes yesterday), and front office.
Last, kudos to Mayor Michael Nutter, wearing his cool Phillies jacket and representing "the city of brotherly love and sisterly affection." Before the parade, Nutter had called on people to "be joyous, not a jackass." And they were. Only 44 arrests, for minor infractions, were made. Not bad for an "estimated" crowd of two million.
My mother and I left for Philadelphia at 8:00 am and got back to the Lehigh Valley just past 8 pm. It was worth it.
