The Highest Hopes

It's the final day of September, 2011. Tomorrow the playoffs begin for us. Going into this postseason is different this year than any other year in my life as a sports fan.
This is easily the greatest Phillies team ever assembled and maybe one of the greatest teams in the history of the game. And they play for my hometown. I can't begin to tell you how that makes me feel. Philadelphians are frequently maligned and some of that is well deserved. But the fact is, there isn't a more loyal, emotional or knowledgeable fan base anywhere on earth. People say all the time; "We live and die with our teams" but in Philly it's true. Living in Nashville for 14 years, I have seen what a front running fan base looks like. The Titans can pack their stadium...as long as the team is 11-5 and making a playoff run. But in Philly...we will pack the house even when our teams are losing badly. Because they are our teams. They are us. Those guys go out there every night in Phillies pinstripes, or Eagles midnight green, or the red white and blue of the Sixers, or that special Burnt Sienna and Black of the Flyers. But under the uniforms, they are us. They represent my town...no matter where I am at the time. We hitch our blue-collar dreams to those guys every time they take the field. We need them as much as they need us.
This year has been magical for Phillies fans. We never relinquished the lead in the East. We ran up a club record 102 victories. We assembled the greatest pitching staff in team history and perhaps the greatest of all time. This from a franchise that only 4 years ago was the butt-end of jokes about losing 10,000 games. Anyone remember that? Anyone? Didn't think so.
There is a tremendous lesson here. Success will make people forget failure. It's easy as that. We used to bristle at the mere mention of 10,000 losses...now we look at it as a badge of honor. Yes...my team was the first team to reach that number. How do you like us now? How do you like a team that was so special that Cliff Lee turned down substantially more money from NY to come play for us? Is there a way to turn that into a joke or are you going to have to simply deal with it? The Phillies are a shining example to the greatest life lesson of all...you are not the sum total of your failures.
I love this team. And I will always love my hometown. I am a Philly boy. That's just how it is. And tomorrow, my team begins it's pursuit of a third World Series appearance in four years and a second World Championship in that same span. This team could not be in a better place at a better time.
Things have been rough for a lot of people for a long time. We look to sports to get our minds off of the way things are. For me...that became life changing on October 29th 2008, when this team won it's most recent World Series. As the Phillies have improved, so has my situation improved. My own 10,000 losses have given way to small, but increasing successes. In May I will graduate from Liberty University...28 years after first arriving there as a freshman. It's been a long difficult road in the years between. My 10,000 losses were costly and painful. But, standing on the threshold of achieving a dream I have held for half of my life...I barely think of those losses anymore. I am feeling like a winner again. And when I feel down, or feel like I am overwhelmed by the things that want to rip victory from my hands and take back every inch I so gamely fought for...I can look at my Phillies and their red-pinstriped suits of armor...and see the model for staying after it until the victory is won.
I was homeless and sleeping in my car when this team won their 2008 World Series. I am one semester removed from being a college Graduate as we head into this postseason. I was desperate and lost and beaten and defeated when Brad Lidge struck out that last batter. I am working in a job I enjoy, planning for a bright future and thinking about graduate school as the 2011 version of the Phillies takes the field in search of another championship.
The last time I heard Harry Kalas' wonderful voice I was wrapped in a sleeping bag, cramped in a Volvo 850 hidden in tall weeds behind a church in Nashville. I wept openly as I heard him make the last call.
The next time I hear his voice...there will only be tears of joy.
Thanks Harry...let go Phillies!
High Hopes!