Walking home Friday afternoon through a sea of drunken suburbanites and Philadelphians involved a lot of vomit avoidance, high-fiving of strangers, and politely letting our city's visitors know what street they are on when asked. It was like some one had a party in my home while I was out of the country for awhile and they really trashed the place. Being at work all day while the rest of the city is literally drinking in the streets and then having to walk home through the end of that binge sort of stinks. Downtown ran out of beer. 2.5 million people congregated in a space designed for 100,000 or so. 60 people were arrested. Second baseman, Chase Utley dropped the "F Bomb" during his little speech at Citizen's Bank. And a lady pooped in the alley next to our apartment. I love this game.
Cream Cheese's reporter in the field while I'm at work, Adam Blumberg, caught some of the madness on disk while running errands for the final touches of our Halloween costumes.
A sea of red.
People that don't take the tags off their hats before wearing are weird.
Like some of you, I don't always care about who wins the World Series and when the Cardinals are sucking it up, I enjoy the game a little less. But, the Phillies are a team I've ignored since moving to PA at the age of 10. We have a history. I can recall vague memories of pretending to know which Phillies' butt was cute during awkward lunch time conversations in 7th grade, you know that time when you still feel the need to fake it just to avoid confrontation of any kind. This town needed this win and while I'm still convinced the celebrations of Wednesday night and Friday all day may have left a body count, we're all feeling the brotherly love lately.