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We Are the Champions

That “we” in the title is a bit disingenuous. Sure, I live near Philadelphia, home of the World Champion Philadelphia Knockerbackers, er, I mean Phillies. But as someone lacking the “sports gene,” it’s not fair that I enjoy the sweet rewards of championshipdom without having suffered through 28 years following the allegedly losing-est team in baseball (a pointless statistic if ever there was one). Nevertheless, I’ll take it! Wooooooooo-hoo!!! World Champs, baby!!! But I didn’t feel like I belonged at the parade today, ya know?

For example, I confess I didn’t know a single Phillies player until a month ago. Now I know a good three or four.1 I even watched some of the games. I couldn’t watch the final game on Wednesday, unfortunately, but did soak up some of the energy from the packed house at McGillin’s waiting for the game to start, the cheers from patrons at Ly Michaels when the Phillies scored, and the crew working at Jim's Steaks where Kenric and I grabbed a bite on our way home. Even though I didn’t get home in time to see the final out, it was an exciting and historic night, and I am so happy both for this city and for all of the Phillies' real fans.

1I knew most of the Phillies during the Sixties when I was a kid. I liked baseball cards, even though I didn't know a thing about baseball.



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