Baseball is a big deal in my house. I will sit and watch ALMOST any sport on TV (sorry bowling) but, in the Chalkboard Dad's domicile, baseball is king. And if baseball is king, the Philadelphia Phillies are god, Citizen's Bank Park the place of worship.
A good friend of mine gave us some tickets to go to Citizen's Bank Park on Wednesday evening to cheer on the Phillies. Roy Halladay had the start, which was awesome, and it was Dominic Brown's first major league start, which was epic. My teaching buddy Glen gave us four tickets he couldn't use so The Wife and I took The Peanut and my mother. It was a sweltering night to watch some great baseball in the best ballpark in Major League Baseball. (If you care to dispute that claim, let's take it to the comments below)
The Peanut loves the Phillies. She has been going to games at The Bank since she was two years old. The most memorable event in my thirty-six year sports memory was when the Phills beat the Tampa Bay Rays to win the 2008 World Series. The game ended late and The Peanut was long slumbered in her bed. After The Wife and I celebrated Brad Lidge's final out to save the series I went up to her bedroom. I knelt down at her side and nudged her awake. It took a minute or two for her to wake up but when she finally lifted her eye lids she saw my smile. She licked her lips like an over exaggerated cartoon character waking from a deep sleep and said, "Hi daddy. I'm sleepin."
"I know baby, but guess what?"
She sat up with a yawn. "What?"
"The Phillies won the World Series!" I tried not to shout, but I am sure I was louder than I should have been to a three year old whom I had just roused from a deep slumber.
A big grin erupted from ear to ear, the ecstatic joy I was feeling given physical expression. The Peanut squealed and jumped up into my arms and we did a little victory dance right there in her dark bedroom, her tiny arms wrapped around my neck, both of us laughing and cheering.
It is a moment I will treasure for all time.
So, as I am sure you can imagine, when The Peanut found out we were going to see the Phillies play she was barely able to contain her excitement.
We got in, found our awesome seats fifteen rows back along the third base side, loaded up with all the ballpark food staples (beer, hot dogs, and a vat of the insanely delicious Chickie's & Pete's crab fries), and settled in to watch the game.
The Peanut's favorite Phillie is left fielder Raul Ibanez. He came to the club last year and has had his ups and downs. The Peanut chose Raul because when he is up to bat the entire park yells out his first name, holding the second syllable for several seconds, turning "Raul!" into "Rauuuuuuuuuuuuul!" She loves to yell along at home, standing up on the coffee table (hope no one from DFS is reading this) and yelling "RAUUUUUUUUUUUUL!" at the top of her almost six year old lungs. She likes Chase Utley and Ryan Howard. She loves to wear her Shane Victorino lei. But Raul is her guy.
The game began and all was well. It was hot and humid, but we were having too much fun to notice. Roy Halladay, our starting pitcher for the evening, took care of the Diamondbacks in the top of the first inning, making it look easy. The Peanut's man Ibanez would be coming to bat third in the bottom of the inning.
When he came to the plate, a young guy sitting directly behind us let out a loud "RAUUUUUUUUUL!" for all the park to hear. Problem was, his deep voice, strained by the force of his decleration, made his yell sound more like "BOOOOOOOOO!" than "RAUUUUUUUUL!". The Peanut, with a half eaten hot dog in her mouth, whipped around so quickly a little glob of ketchup flew off and landed with a splat on my knee. She gave the guy a stone cold death glare. She didn't raise her tiny fists to fight, but her hands were clenched into tight fists. She was ready to swing if necessary.
To the guy's credit he looked at The Peanut's shirt (she was of course wearing her Raul shirt), looked into the furnace of her fiery gaze, and realized the miscommunication. As his girlfriend looked on amused, he attempted to make nice with The Peanut and explain to her that he was not booing Ibanez, that he in fact liked Raul very much. The Peanut's fists slowly unclenched but I don't think she was really convinced. Only later in the game, after Ibanez doubled and the guy gave The Peanut a high five, did she accept that he was not an Ibanez hater.
It was a great night out as a family and a great night to be Phillies fans as the team went on to beat the Diamondbacks seven to one and win their seventh game in a row.
It seems my daughter is turning into a proper Phillies fan. Fiery, passionate, and willing to take no crap when she thinks someone is talking smack about her guys.
Should I be proud?
Or scared?
