Alas, there is relative quiet in the house of Miwacar, even as the Phillies' players themselves stumble home after 20 hours of partying. Through both playoff series and then the World Series, there was nothing but turmoil under my roof. My lady friend is a rabid Phillies fan and has been on a constant ride of upward swings and downward spirals, and I have been exhausted by it. I too followed and rooted for the Fightin’ Phils, how could I not? Yet, my fandom compared to hers was not unlike the difference between an occasional church going Universalist and a Dominican nun who has taken a vow of silence, not to mention ALL of the other vows.
It was not uncommon to spend the morning talking her down from the ledge of anxiety, even though her team won the previous night’s game, only to find myself wanting to smother her with a pillow at bedtime following a game, in an attempt to stop the rambling. Don’t get me wrong, I love the woman, but Jesus wept! In the real world my Lovey is a very positive minded person, but come crunch time she is Chicken Little on meth. So, I found myself suddenly the beacon of positivism, a role unbecoming my Swedish-American nature. I would spout all of the right, comforting things as she laid in a fidgety ball rebuking me like Linda Blair’s Regan did Jesus. At a point of super saturation I would try to cast out her demons and then I usually cast myself out the window.
I am so happy that the Phillies persevered in the game 5 fiasco. All of the above mentioned horrors of my household were magnified a hundred fold these past two and a half days. I found myself rooting harder for a team than I have since the Twins won the 1987 World Series, just so it could all be over. I like the Phillies a lot and I enjoyed the tremendous performances of Hollywood Hamels, Pedro Feliz, Carlos Ruiz, Geoff Jenkins and all of the rest, but I must admit now that I wanted them to win mostly to quell the storm in my home.
I expect that I will get about a month’s peace, after the celebration dies off, before it all begins again with the common refrain of “No body is picking the Phils, they never get the respect…“ I will offer a positive statement and then I will promptly be booed out of my own home.
Happy Halloween and three cheers for the Phillies!
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