I cannot stop myself from hating the Phillies again
A sweep at the hands of the hated Mets at Citi Field has me seeing red.
What a difference a week makes. As I’ve written in this newsletter’s short history, I found myself enamored with the Phillies once more this season. Last week’s sweep of a talented Mariners team in the wake of Zack Wheeler’s devastating season-ending injury gave me hope that this squad had true guts, could rally around the loss of their team’s best player 2017 Eagles style and make a run back to the World Series.
Well, if they have to face the Mets in October, we know sure as shit that ain’t happening.
In a three-game set in Queens this week, New York swept the Phils. A 13-3 drubbing on Monday was humiliating. A 6-5 ninth inning loss on Tuesday was heartbreaking. Wednesday night’s 6-0 defeat may have honestly been the worst of them all, as the Phillies’ lineup looked disinterested, as if they didn’t give one single iota about the totality of the situation and that they were downright terrified of the Mets.
I grew up in an era where Jimmy Rollins and Chase Utley were true villains for New York. Rollins called out the Mets in the media and Utley may be that fan base’s most loathed player ever. They were real leaders, too. They understood the importance of these rivalry games, what it meant not just for the playoff race and the standings, but what it meant to the city of Philadelphia as well.
Including the postseason, the Phillies have now lost 10 consecutive games at Citi Field. The Mets absolutely punked the Phils in the NLDS last fall. They own the Phillies! It’s that simple! It’s a disgrace and embarrassing for a fan base as prideful as us.
There was a classic Nike commercial for Michael Jordan back in the day that said, “I can accept failure. I can’t accept not trying.”
I’ve realized that once you get older and, in particular, athletes on your favorite team start being younger than you, you stop putting your whole heart and soul into individual players. I’m in a much different place than, say, being emotionally invested in the success of Carson Wentz or Ben Simmons at the ripe ol’ age of 31. You stink now? Get lost. I don’t care. Get me someone who tries. I only care about the name on the front of the jerseys these days.
Alec Bohm? Peace out, brother, for your little meltdown about a microphone this week.
Bryce Harper? He’s been a legitimate god on the field at times for the team, so I try not to lob too much criticism his way, but he has a penchant for doing way too much out there, swinging for the heavens and attempting to steal bags unnecessarily.
Aaron Nola? Hey, I’m trying to get some sponsors for this bad boy. I can’t say what I really want.
Rob Thomson? My grandfather who’s been dead for 25 years had a pulse more recently than him.
It’s all so gutless when it’s coming against this team out of all the clubs.
The Phillies are now up just four games in the NL East with 29 games to play. Winning this series could’ve buried New York. Ugh!
The Phillies don’t have an identity. They have no personality. I’m angry!
Sure, they’re still going to make the postseason and I’ll write some hype newsletters about them as we roll around for the latest iteration of Red October, but deep within my mind, even if I’ve packed it away and can’t reach it, I’ll know I don’t really believe in them.
At least we’re officially a week away from the Eagles kicking off?