Well, now! That was quite the little scuffle you all had going for a while there. Congrats, making it past the first round of the playoffs is no easy feat! Just ask the 2007 Phillies. Of course, a good enough team can make it look painfully easy. Just ask the 2008-10 Phillies.
But I’m not going to sit here and toss cheap insults at players on another team.
Now let’s address some comments about Pat Burrell.
“Other people’s trash is our treasure.”
I do not think there was a second this town thought that Pat Burrell was our “trash,” sir. That is a downright false-itude. Sure, we were willing to admit his faults. We were willing to allow him to shoulder the blame when he would do things like leave nine runners in scoring position in a single game.
We may have said terrible things about him, taunted him from the left field bleachers, wished infectious disease upon him, started a 19-member Facebook group dedicated to telling him he sucks, tried to get local businesses to drive him out of town, laughed when a porn star called him “immature,” and garnered the sympathy of the worldwide leader in sports because of his contract.
But at no point did we specifically refer to him as our “trash.”
But when Pat Burrell left this town, he left it as a hero, and not just to horny, boisterous middle-aged women. Mostly to them. He went 6-for-18 with 3 RBI and 1 R in the NLCS that year, so he found something to cite when asked where he contributed along the way. He was a part of the 2008 championship team, so no matter what he did, he was going out in style.
So excuse us, Mr. Huff, sir, if we endlessly antagonized a man before giving his job to a 36-year-old ex-Royal (who went on to be pretty awesome). But he was never designated the same level as “trash.”
Have you seen Philadelphia’s trash? It’s rarely enjoyable and costs too much. So the comparison would have been dead on. And we restrained ourselves.
So, you know, welcome. Should be a tight series full of many coronary moments. Though we don’t even really know what Roy Halladay will be like on even longer rest. If he arrives at the park in any way less spectacular than human flight, I’ll be shocked–until he opens his mouth and breathes fire all over Andres Torres.
My brother in law while I was surgically cropping for this image: “What are you doing?”
Me: “You do not even want to know what I am doing.”