1 More To Go...And I'm No Saint.

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I'm a jumble of emotions.

Excitement. Nervousness. Joy. Trepidation.

My thoughts on game 3 & 4 are fairly basic: Incredible.

Pitchers hitting home runs? Games decided by a run in the bottom of the ninth? Home run marathon games? This has been a pleasure, up to this point, to be a part of this World Series, but also so tense.

It's hard to really enjoy the series, because the Phillies have to win four games. Oh, the Phillies up 3-1 in the series is beyond my wildest dreams. But the fact remains that Tampa is a very dangerous team, and certainly will not go out of this series lying down.

I think if the Phils keep their bats alive and keep getting runners on base, we have a definite shot to take 1 of the next 3 games.

1 more game to go. No one in Philly realistically thinks that this series is wrapped up. It's Philadelphia - nothing comes easy. It would be beyond incredible for us to win in 5 games.

Here's a story for you which happened last Saturday. It's a story i'm not terribly proud of, but my only defense is that it ended on a good note.

I'm at the bar, it's 9pm and the bar isn't very full, but most of the chairs at the bar are taken. I'm sitting at the bar, having a drink and talking to Phillies fans. Two seats opens up next to me at the bar, and a group asks if anyone is sitting there, and I mirthfully reply, "Nope, all yours. I just hope you aren't Tampa Bay fans."

The group chuckles and shakes their collective heads.

One of the girls sits next to me, she's very cute, and in her early 20's. Her boyfriend, also around the same age, about 5'10 and maybe 165 pounds, was all over her as soon as she sat down next to me. This is a bit of a pet peeve of mine. If there were a PDA (Public Display of Affection) magnet, it would be me. Often I joke with my friends, that guys don't do this only to show affection, but marking his "territory". I wish I had a nickel for everytime I walked to the PATH platform, and wait for a train, while a guy sees me and a few seconds later is holding his girlfriend's hand or putting his arm around her. Ok...I get it...she's with you.

I'm trying to watch the pre-game, but Mr. Boyfriend is kissing or hugging or touching this girl every five minutes. I'm rolling my eyes and just trying to watch the tv and ignore the guy, but it's kind of hard when they she is sitting right next to me, and he's draped on her.

The game begins later, after a 90 minute rain delay, and the boyfriend starts half-watching the game. When the Phillies made a mistake or the Rays did something well, the boyfriend started to cheer & clap.

Now i'm trying to set this up for you as best I can. You are in a bar full of Phillies fans. Yes, I can fully respect and understand if this fellow is from Tampa, cheering on his team. There's about 40 bars in town people can drink at and this bar is barely full, with the majority of people standing around wearing Phillies hats. Plus i'm already irritable with his constant fawning of his girlfriend.

After the third bout of cheering I turn to the girl and say, "Is your boyfriend from Tampa or a Rays fan or something?"

She looks embarassed and says bashfully, "No, he's from London. He's just being an asshole. I'm sorry."

I say to her, "It's not your fault, he's the one being a jerk on purpose. I can understand if he was a Rays fan, but why sit in a bar full of Philly people just to cheer on the other team?"

I get her boyfriends attention, who has a big dopey smile on his face.

I say to him with an acerbic tone: "Hey, pal. Look, not for nothin' - but what's the deal? You are in a bar full of Phillies fans and cheering on the Rays? That would be like me visiting London, walking into a Man United bar and clapping and cheering on Liverpool or Arsenal during a match. I'm a die hard Philly fan and you have another thing coming if you think i'm gonna sit here and listen to you cheer on a team that means nothing to you."

For the record, even if he was from Tampa I probably would have told him the same thing. I don't have a strong track record when it comes to listening to opposing fans sit next to me and cheer on their team.

The smile quickly faded from his face and his response was apologetic, "Hey, sorry I didn't know, calm down.". I told him "I am calm, i'm calmly telling you to shut up or get lost."

I know, I know. Not very nice of me. I'm sure Yankee fans can understand my irritation, especially with all the Bawh-Stahn Red Sowx fans around Hoboken. I can only imagine what a nightmare a Philly vs Boston series would have produced. It would be 'Fight Central' in Hoboken.

The game goes on and I really don't pay much attention to the guy or his group. Mr. Boyfriend is much more reserved and the girlfriend (who really didn't seem much into him to begin with) leaves ten minutes later. I'm guessing that my tirade to him didn't help matters between them.

It's the second inning and someone buys four shots of Irish wiskey at the bar, takes two and disappears. By the fourth inning the shots are still sitting there and I hate to see good alcohol go to waste. I grab them and offer one to Mr. Boyfriend, who is chatting up his remaining two friends. I offer him one of the shots and we cheer each other.

He and I start talking. He's visiting from London and didn't know a thing about baseball. Yes, I did feel a bit badly, but I think about how Americans who go overseas and act stupid & obnoxious in a foreign country? Maybe this guy learned a valuable lesson at 22 years old about how to act in America.

I explain the game to him, using cricket as an example - explaining strike zones and the rules for batters and pitchers. By the 7th inning Mr. Boyfriend and I are all chummy, thanks to the power of alcohol, and my thinly veiled threats are basically forgotten. When he gets up to leave, shakes my hand and leaves the bar.

I never said I was a saint.

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This page contains a single entry by Furey published on October 27, 2008 12:40 AM.

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