Roadkill boiled in the mid-afternoon blaze, dudes without shirts ran freely in the streets, and people with malfunctioning A/C in their cars burned alive.  Truly, this was god’s country.

The, Wednesday morning, Philly woke up and the world had gone gray.  The relentless deluge of rain which followed was… a poor sign.

And as Patrick Kane hoisted the Stanley Cup over his  head, a little more of the city died, and Roy Halladay, somewhere within its limits, craned his neck to the sky and, with a subtle grimace, the rain stopped.  As a token of apology, even the clouds dissipated.

I'm saying the man can control the rain... WITH HIS MIND.

Hours before, we had sat on our couches, assuming a Flyers win would be prefaced by an extension of a Phillies revival.

“Tonight’s Phillies-Marlins game has been postponed,” Comcast Sports Net informed us.  ”Here are some underfunded local commercials featuring a penguin who inexplicably talks like a duck.”

And it was so.

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