That's it, I can't do it anymore. I am not equipped with any more emotional resilience, can't go with the flow, can't stand steady while the boat rocks and rolls. Once, so long ago, I had it in me, but now it's too late. Years of these kinds of endings to seasons have robbed me of that give, that elasticity that everyone else calls perspective. (Apologies to Liz Wurtzel.) I can't emotionally give myself to these teams anymore. Not after the last three Phillies seasons, not after the last two Flyers playoffs, not after the last decade of Andy Reid, not even after the last [insert number here] NCAA tourney disappointments by the Wildcats and Owls and my Orange. I can't do the hype going into a regular season that means nothing when the walls come crashing down at playoff time. The tank is empty. It's time to get back to the Phillies of Len Matuzek and Tim Corcoran, the Eagles of Bobby Hoying and Chris Boniol, the Flyers of Steve Duchesne and Jeff Hackett, the Sixers of Mike Gminski and Jeff Ruland. They were bad, but they were known quantities. You got what you expected. They were who we thought they were. These teams now, all the expectations and all the excitement, it's like searching for years for the perfect girl who then runs away with the exterminator who is killing squirrels in the church on your wedding day. Or with David Freese.
At least the Eagles had the decency to free up my Sundays early in the season instead of leading me on until December.
Most likely gone: Rollins, Madson, Lidge, Oswalt, Ibanez, Gload, all free agents. Howard may be out the full season after somehow tearing his Achilles tendon while choking, putting Mayberry at first base, so now no left fielder and no first baseman to go along with no shortstop, no closer, and no fourth ace. Plus replacing Howard and Ibanez' power. Polanco still hurt, is third base shored up? Will Valdez and Mini-Mart both start for this team? No Lidge or Contreras in the middle of the bullpen, another season of Fat Joe or Kyle Kendrick (luckiest man in baseball) as one will start and one will come out of the pen, and can you count on Stutes and Bastardo (not to mention Worley)? Seems hitters figured them out. David Herndon. And they'll be setting up for whom to close? What if Dom Brown isn't any better than we've seen? What then about right field? That's 5 of 8 positions in question, plus starters #4 and 5, and the entire bullpen. (Not to mention Charlie's right hand man if Mackanin takes the Boston gig.) That infield, that outfield, that bullpen... not championship material. Money's now tight and Pence and Hamels are arbitration eligible. What do they do? And if Jose Reyes is the answer to all the Phils' ills™, we're all in trouble. Plus this team is now officially old. At least they're golfing now. That's what old people do.
My Halloween costume this year? I won't show up at all and say I'm the Phillies. Pitchers and catchers in 130 days, in case you were curious.
This is not only the end of the Phils' season, but the end of this Phils' era. They are up against the luxury tax ceiling and won't go higher. They've depleted the farm system with trades to win now, which they haven't. With two seasons of playoffs crap, who stays and who goes? Changes will be made that will be unpopular with fans. It has to and will happen (look at the Flyers.) Fans will start to get frustrated and start not going to the ballpark or buying merchandise. Revenues will fall and so will payroll. And possibly by as soon as next year, this team will fall back to mediocrity. And then what? I hope you enjoyed the five year run, this is the end of an era. It was a long time between pennants from 1950 and 1980. It was a long time between championships from 1980 and 2008. Let's hope it's not another two decades until another World Series.
That's it. I'm done. I can't give my time, money, emotions, effort, or energy to these teams again, the one in the red pinstripes in particular. It's been great, but this relationship isn't working anymore. All we do is wind up fighting (and frankly, uh, there's this premature elimination problem). I need some space. No no, don't blame yourself. It's not you, it's me (it's really you). You'll still see me occasionally, we can still be friends. I'll keep up with how you're doing on Facebook. And I don't mind some post-break-up sex every now and then. I'm come over to your place (it's nicer than mine), hang out, but I want to see other people. Really, all I want is for you to be happy. But I can't be there for you anymore in the way that you need. Is your friend the Nippon Ham Fighters still single? Don't forget your toothbrush. I don't know what a Howard-less, Rollins-less, Madson-less, Ibanez-less Phillies will look like next year, but I know I won't counting down to spring training, I won't be rushing home for to watch a business-person's special in June, I won't plan my vacations around October baseball because this team doesn't deserve it. There's an old saying in Tennessee - I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee - that says, fool me once, shame on... shame on you. Fool me... you can't get fooled again. Will I change my mind over a long winter? Soften a bit? Have a regretful summer fling with the old girlfriend? Am I writing from the heart and not the brain out of recent traumatic emotion? Will they win me back with sweet talk and shiny jewelry? Maybe. Maybe I'm not strong enough to quit you.
But I can't let the Phillies fool me again. Until they do again next year.
Michael H.
Phillies fan since 1978
Twitter @PhillyPartTwo
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