Father’s Day.  A gorgeous afternoon.  Fans Citizens Bank Park-over were adorned in this year’s particular ridiculous Father’s Day giveaway.  Roy Halladay was getting pushed around.  And the Phillies, as is their custom, were losing.  The faint breaths of offense and pitching we’d seen within the last few days were becoming precious memories as, for the second day in a row, a jilted loss looked to befell the Phils.

Or… was it…?

Valdez stepped into the batter’s box known to some–mainly those who happen to be near my during Phillies games–as a “Fireballing shortstop with a bat made of garbage.”  His home run the day before was an oasis in a desert of sandy K’s and GIDP’s.  Already, as the “fifth inning bitter-wave” swept over me, I was demanding that he was not capable of pulling off the feat again.

For the first time ever, I was proven wrong about something in baseball.  Valdez clocked a pure Pavano 352 feet over the left field wall.

“And the game is tied!” Tom McCarthy wrongly informed television viewers, forgetting the Twins had scored again the previous inning.

But even so.  One run can start a revolution.  One unlikely spark can light up a team.  One holiday hero can save the day.  Maybe, on a day to celebrate our fathers, Wilson Valdez was about to lead the Phillies’ offense in a relentless assault to make the Twins call him daddy.

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