Obviously, you haven’t stopped talking about the 2011 Phillies yet. You suffered through that painless season, and except for the tail end when we lost eight games in a row, then won three, then won a spectacular playoff game, then got kicked out of the playoffs, it was quite enjoyable.
Well, now you don’t have to keep going to the Phillies’ website and watching clips from games they played back in July, basking in the warmth of knowing that victory is assured because you’re watching a game that already happened. This sport is quite enjoyable when you remove all elements of mystery and drama.
I remember the 2011 Phillies season; late nights of watching world famous closer Wilson Valdez shut down the Reds; Chase Utley hitting the most anticipated fly out to center field in his season debut; Placido Polanco receiving a suspension for letting Eli Whiteside give him a weird hug; Ryan Howard punishing a high fastball after getting the green light on 3-0 for the first Phils’ dinger of 2011; Hunter Pence scampering around third like a deer in his first Philadelphia performance and laughing like a lunatic; Vance Worley strutting the fuck off the field after a called third strike, just like they taught him to do in Triple-A; each and every time Doc, Cliff, or Cole touched the ball; J-Roll, slowly brimming with childlike enthusiasm on Opening Day.
But damn! How on earth could you get a copy of such a retrospective?! Any why would you need to, after I so carefully listed everything that happened?
If only there were a time of year in which large groups of people sought to cultivate happiness in each other in the form of material goods. Wouldn’t it be magical if we could all put aside one season of the calendar to forget about past transgressions and frustrations, and just celebrate the fact that we all love, or at least have thus far resisted the voice instructing us to kill each other? And maybe we could illustrate this point by giving each other, you know, stuff. Stuff like DVD yearbooks about legendary baseball teams.
Sadly, we’re in the throes of winter-–the worst time of year to try and get people to stand each other. We’re all shelled up in our parkas, cursing at the wind, and struggling to get to work as Old Man Winter sits upon his icy throne, pointing and laughing as he fills our world with unavoidable, bone-cracking chill-storms.
Oh well. Better bundle up. Supposed to sleet this morning.