Friday – The Phillies rolled through the Mets with all the courtesy, civility and regard for consequence as the Third Reich when they rolled through the French countryside. See my full report HERE.
Saturday – Well, let them eat cake! All was set right in the sports world…at least for one night. Please read my stellar analysis HERE.
Sunday – When watching a game like this, I often question my decision to cover sports, because that wasn’t a just game we all watched yesterday. It was a travesty of justice. It was de-evolution of popular culture. It was, for all intents and purposes, an environmental disaster of sports entertainment. Hits and runs flooded Citizens Band Park like millions of gallons of BP fuel while poor RA Dickey, like an innocent hard working fisherman with leathered skin and white knuckles, was helpless in attempt to honestly ply his trade against the tyrannical, environment hating “Big Oil” Phillies.
Consistent with the uneducated slovenly inhabitants of Southeastern Pennsylvania, the crowd cheered blindly, obviously not cognizant of, or caring about, what this display of barbarian baseball would mean to their dignified opposition, other fine teams within Major League Baseball, or sports culture as a whole. I imagined Ruben Amaro, sitting in a luxury box on a plush leather chair, with all the likeability of a yacht-riding Tony Heyward, laughing maniacally as Raul Ibanez sauntered around the bases after his vulgar display of power.
The insults and disgrace was not limited the field, either. While Roy Halladay rushed through the Mets lineup like a coke-fueled Charlie Sheen goes through a brothel, degenerate Phillies fans made spectacles of themselves in the stands. Repeatedly, television cameras caught fans, who for the most part are indistinguishable from baboons or mud-covered swine, mocking, gloating or cheering right in the face of unassuming Mets fans. Despicable.
So what does all that I've witnessed this weekend tell me? It's not just the Phillies who are contemptible. It's the whole organization, the city and their fans. The stadium could collapse. The press box seat in which I sit to write this piece could crumble. Our beaches and oceans may never again be inhabitable. The minds of children, free of innocence, could instead become awash with the filth and lasciviousness displayed by their favorite baseball team. But these people… these creatures… they just don’t care. As long as Philadelphia wins baseball game, all is right in the World. They will defecate without prejudice on everything the good and righteous of this world hold sacred, all in the name of playoff baseball.
My time in Philadelphia is over, again, and I leave you with only one request. Pray for Jose Reyes. Pray for the good in the game. Pray for K-Rod and the rest of the sentient beings that make baseball America’s favorite pastime, that they can overcome the evil, the arrogance, the condescension that is baseball in Philadelphia.