Our Phillies Phans: Reasons to Love the Crazies

Moira Lavelle
Magazine Editor

A short while ago, I received an unexpected call from my father. It was about 6:30 on a Sunday night and I was out with some friends enjoying a delicious slice of pizza. However, when I took the call, my father informed me that he had somehow been magically bestowed with a spare ticket to Game 4 of the World Series… and he was wondering if I would like to go with him to the game. I very rapidly and rudely excused myself from my friends to grab a baseball hat as I raced off to Philadelphia. For those who watched our Fightin’ Phils, Sunday night was not a pleasant game. But I realized that, despite the final score, I really did love my Phillies and my fellow Phillies Phans.
Philadelphia sports fans have gained a bit of notoriety in certain circles. They are too loud, too crude, and often too inebriated. And while all of these things are painfully true for many them, including the men sitting in front of me, I feel that Phillies fans posses particular qualities that make them tolerable, even endearing.
One of these traits is their incredible imagination – applied to everything from cheers to jeers to titles. There is always the usual “[insert opposing team] stinks!” but someone always manages to invent a unique way to display malice. At the game, I heard a few the cries of “C.C. ya later!” or “ You’d think you could afford to buy a strike with your salary!” every time Yankees pitcher C.C. Sabathia threw a ball. This creativity was displayed even more drastically when the entire stadium chanted “EEVA, EEVA” at a very shaken Evan Longoria last year. Phillies fans also feel the need to distinguish their likes and dislikes from those of other, less enthused fans. Our Mr. October, Carlos Ruiz, was not just Mr. October; he was Señor Octubre! Conversely, the widely accepted nickname of the Yankees third basemen Alex Rodriguez, was shooed away – instead of “A-rod,” he was dubbed “A-roid,” due to past allegations of the player’s steroid use.
And then there is the loyalty. Our fans are staunch and will be staunch until it hurts. This is evident even in the smallest of deeds, such as supporting the pitcher who is having trouble getting into the game. When Phillies pitcher Joe Blanton threw a ball that hit a Yankee, the crowd around me surged up and started applauding. I mean, of course the batter had walked to first, but Blanton had hit A-rod in the arm and the fans were going to support him for it. The same Philly loyalty can also be seen in the fans’ everlasting devotion to their team. Both my grandfather and father have been die-hard Phillies fans since they were very young. I remember way back, when the Phillies had reached the awful milestone of being the first major league team to lose 10,000 games. But my father still cheered them on. And I am certain they will still possess the most unwavering fans some day (very, very, very far in the future) when the team reaches 20,000 loses.
However, I’d have to say that the most valuable trait Phillies fans have is their infallible optimism. I suppose this shouldn’t come as a surprise – with a team with a record like the Phillies, optimism is key. At the end of every Phillies win, a video is played on the Jumbo-tron. It is not a video of our greatest plays or our best players – it is just the clip of Harry Kalas singing High Hopes. As the crowd disperses, it is possible to hear everyone (even the man who cursed off every player on the other team) singing, “…he’s got, high apple pie in the sky hopes!” On Sunday night, as my father and I left the park alongside the somber, dejected crowd, we ran into one of our friends. We were expecting a frown or some anger, but he merely looked up and grinned and he proudly proclaimed, “Tonight wasn’t the big game, but tomorrow nights’ the one that matters. We’ll win it tomorrow.”