Philadelphia Phillies vs. Milwaukee Brewers at Citizens Bank Park, June 11 2005, by David Wilezol

From MemoryArchive

Who: David Wilezol
What: A Remarkable Philadelphia Phillies Game
When: June 11th 2005
Where: Citizen's Bank Park, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

A Great Phillies Game

It was the 11th of June, 2005 A.D. The Philadelphia Phillies were expected to be a decent team this year, and perhaps contend for the National League WildCard, a playoff spot awarded to the team with the best record that does not win it's division. They were playing well, and hopes were high across the Delaware Valley. It was a great baseball day, that time of year when the sun really begins to herald the fact that it is indeed summer. This summer was pretty typical, a sleepy Jersey shore community gets bombarded with hordes of tourists, eager to spend their money at the restaurant I work at, with me waiting on them. Anyway, today was a beautiful day and I wanted to do something fun with my friend John, who I had known since elementary school and was my go to guy for attending sporting events, and especially baseball games. I got off of work around four, called him up, and picked up some beer. We headed up to Philadelphia [[WP:Philadelphia|Philadelphia] from Ocean City, New Jersey at about 5, for a 7:30 start. We parked the car and then went about procuring some tickets. But not before imbibing about six beers each, just to get our tounges loosened up for mercilessly tormnenting the opposing squad, which tonight would be the Milwaukee Brewers. Normal suckers would go straight to the box office for some overpriced tickets. But John and I hit our favorite scalper, a large black fellow by the name of "Big Cat" who must weigh about 350-450 lbs, and is always sitting on a black WaWa milkcrate on Pattison Avenue wearing filthy black sweatpants. We obtained two tickets about 12 rows from the field, we didn't really mind paying a little extra for good seats because we had money and were both desperate to catch a foul ball. After locating our seats, we went down to heckle the opposition/beg for autographs, shoving some children out of the way in the process.

Phillies logo

The game began in a fashion we much expected from the Fightin' Phils, with failure. The first batter singled to start the game, and after starting pitcher Brett Myers retired the next two hitters, third baseman Jeff Cirillo hit a homerun over the right field wall. Though Myers got the next man up to make an out, we were still in the hole 2-0 in the first. It stayed that way until the 5th, when Jim Thome, the Phillies' prime slugger, smashed a pitch from Brewers starter Victor Santos over the fence in right, tying it at two. Then in the 7th, John and I left our seats to watch the game from the open concourse near the visitor's bullpen, which is strategically located so that any fans that feel so inclined can hurl abuse at the visiting team's pitchers, which is what we did. With the score locked at two in the 9th, the Brewers went 1-2-3, so if the Phillies didn't score, we were heading to extras. This was not a prospect we were looking forward to, as John and I had a party to get to that night to which we had been invited. In came Milwaukee's Matt Wise, a decent reliever but nothing to write home about. He walked Thome and second baseman Chase Utley to start the inning, putting two men on with no outs. The crowd was pumped, we all wanted to go home and our prospects for victory were close. Then all the fans let out an assortment of groans, curses, and lamentations as third baseman David Bell strode to the plate. Bell is more known for not getting on base and getting injured more than anything else in Philadelphia. The crowd, on its' feet, watched as Wise got two quick strikes over on Bell, and our mood slumped even more. Then Wise grooved a fastball right down the plate and Bell delivered a mighty blow, the ball arched higher and higher in the air until it cleared the leftfield fence in an orgy of disbelief and pandemonium! David Bell, generally regarded as a bum, had just delivered a dramatic victory after a thrilling pitchers' duel. It was certainly the best game I have ever been to in my life. John and I sprinted out of the stadium to the car, running about a mile to avoid any traffic. Homeward bound, we cruised across the Walt Whitman bridge espousing the greatness of our loveable losers.