A Phillies Fan in a Strange Land – Part 1

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Bringin' High Hopes Without The Smoke

A Phillies Fan in a Strange Land – Part 1

I’ve done it before. Twice before have I visited strange lands as a Philadelphia fan. Each time I was expecting the worst. I was expecting there to be some serious backlash. I came prepared to say the least. The third time I ventured into uncharted territory, I was, again, expecting the worst of the worst.

Before the Phillies had Hunter Pence, and even before they had strung together a 9 game win streak, they were still the best team in baseball. So to wear the P anywhere other than the 215 or the 856, it was like wearing a death wish. The heckling would surely come.

My first venture out of state was also out of country. It was a jolly trip to Canada in baseball’s offseason (the middle of winter). The trip was for the purpose of the puck and a stop into the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto. Sporting orange and black in hockey heaven is not something many have done before. It’s definitely the road less traveled, but surprisingly Canadian residents are very charming. They talked to us about what a good club we had that year (2004) and how the Leafs and Ottawa Senators weren’t playing up to their expectations. A pleasant experience when, if the tables were turned, we would told them their team was a piece of shit if they were visiting here.

One trip down. It seemed as if the next one was going to be the epitome of out of town hazing.

The year was 2009 and the Phillies were fresh off of a World Series win. The Yankees on the other hand were opening up a brand new stadium.  What better way to christen the cathedral of the Bronx by pissing all over their parade with the reigning World Champions?

It was a Friday night and there were 4 of us sporting our Phillies pride. I was flanked by my Dad, Jeromy Bish, and Chris Brandt. We had tickets to the opening game of the series and we were ready for the brunt of the heckling. Sitting on the roof, in the first row, I was ready for my Utley nameplate to take a beating.

We were bathed in a plethora of Phillies fans on the train ride up to the Big Apple, but once we jumped on the subway it was a different story. A friend here and there, but mainly we were drowning in Yankee pinstripes. We stepped off the subway and up into the white light of the day. We made our way to the new stadium, just across the street from its older sister. We stepped through the gates with little fan fare and even made our way to the new Museum up on the 200 Level. As we took pictures in front of Yankee memorabilia, in our Phillies gear, we felt like we were running the show. No one could touch us. We weren’t booed once. If we were in Philadelphia it would be a whole different story. I even pride myself on pointing and booing other fans. It’s our God given right as Philadelphians.

We sat down in the mock up of a Yankee locker and had our pictures taken one by one, and as we were leaving the picture guy, wearing a Yankees hat, said to us, “Go Phillies.” We were taken aback. “Yeah alright buddy,” was the response he received. He quickly followed up with, “No really. I grew up in Flourtown. I love the Phils.” We couldn’t believe it. We were already making friends and the game hadn’t started yet.

Next we went to Hall of Fame row. It was here that we received our first heckle. The security guard told us we weren’t allowed in, but with out Philly swagger we kept going and he smiled, like he should. He knew what was up.

We watched our boys take fielding practice from the $2,500 seats, and then it was the long journey upwards. Let me tell you that this stadium pales in comparison to the Bank. To start, you can watch the game from anywhere in the Bank, but if you’re traveling inside Yankee’s Stadium, there are tons of blind spots, but I digress. We arrived at our seats with a hearty boo from the fans behind us, to which we bowed and waved. We took our seats and the magic began.

The first pitch of the game Jimmy put one in the seats. Not the first at bat. The very first pitch. We stood and applauded with no second thought. It was all gravy from that point on. I knew we had it in the bag when Matt Stairs got an infield single. The words “Matt Stairs” and “infield single” should never be in the same sentence. They were that night though as the Phillies beat the Yanks 7-3.

The cool part of the night was seeing Jeter, A-Rod, and Teixeira homer and still seeing the Phillies win. 2 maybe three future hall of famers going yard and all solo shots. It was a thing of beauty that night. We stayed and watched the boys do the usually line up and congratulate each other while Yankees fans left disappointed. It was an image I will never forget.

The trip home was uneventful besides one “Phillies Suck!” to which I responded, “How many rings did you win last year?” Everyone I was with thought I was going to get shot at that point, but here I am today with no bullet wounds. Two trips down, and on to the most recent one.

Part Two comes next week when the voyage moves to San Diego.

 

 

SW – Brian Maloney

 

Tags: A Blurry View, Out of Town Travels, Phillies Fans

2 days ago 1 Comment Short URL Share this post!

Share on Facebook Tweet This! 1 CommentFrankford Yellowjacket says:August 8, 2011 at 1:02 pm

Great article Brian! Can’t wait to read more Maloney Misadventures! Keep ‘em coming.

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