So yesterday's game was too depressing to even muster the strength to write a SRHPY on this gloomy Monday. Instead, I threw it out to the Twitterverse earlier today and they wrote it for me. I mean for us.
Well, 'pitched' might actually be giving him too much credit. For his past few losses, Phils fans have been saying that Roy wasn't given the run support that he needed to go along with his face-breaking pitching. That excuse couldn't be used last night since the Phils took it upon themselves to see who could get the least RBIs by just hitting solo home runs.
Why didn't Roy Halladay pitch a good game last night? Well, I think I know why and who to blame:
Things only got worse from there. As I neared Independence Rock and the Phillies got into the seventh inning, I received some bad news via my 8-bit message screen:
Of course, you can't blame all the excess runs on Halladay. 5 runs were scored in the bottom of the seventh while Herndon was pitching. However, it seemed that Halladay's pitching seemed to set the tone for the rest of the game.
Yep. That's what I get for putting the Phillies into my Oregon Trail game during a four game series. I apologize Phillie fans. As my penance, I will use my cash register position for good and try to deny sales to Mets & Yankees fans for the rest of the summer.
To which Mabel counters:
So Roy Halladay Pitched Yesterday... and it wasn’t especially pretty, but (you know me) I wasn’t really going to write about that anyway. What I want to write about today is sitting 10 yards away from Roy Halladay (warming up, and the rest of the bullpen) who pitched yesterday.
Most sports fans at one time or another have one way or another gotten a chance to sit and watch a game in really good seats. No matter how many summers you spent in the 700 level by the time you’re in your twenties you’ve probably watched at least one game from a bosses box or your company’s season tickets or someone springing for good seats on your birthday. Yesterday was the first time I’d ever had a really good seat at a Major League Baseball game. Because my birthday is on tuesday I was going to spend a little more on tickets than I normally would, but my boyfriend had to go back to Philly for the weekend so needing only one ticket, I was able to get an even better seat for even cheaper. I sat ten rows back just to the left of the Phillies dugout on the first base side and at Wrigley of course, that’s where the bullpen mounds are.
I got to the game relatively early so I could check out the concourse and feel nostalgic (only not because I kind of hate nostalgia... and hopefully I will write about all that and the academic side of my first trip to Wrigley later today on my own blog-- mabelmeigs.blogspot.com) and admittedly it was pretty awesome, but getting to Roy. My camera battery died so I took some final notes and went out to my seat. The thing was, as beautiful and historic as Wrigley Field is, I just don’t usually get to be that close to a Major League ball field in the first place, so it was pretty sweet. Add to that that after twenty minutes Roy mothereffing Halladay came out and started stretching (including toe touches thankyouverymuchroyandyoursweetass), it was pretty exciting. I mean, he was right there.**
** This is particularly interesting to me because one of the things I find most fascinating about sports (and sports and media) is that they are simultaneously hyper-mediated and yet also completely live, direct forms of communication. That really was Roy Halladay. That really was Roy Halladay’s ass. He is a real person and I could see him right there. (This is also funny because, I’ve been thinking lately about the relationship between sportswriters/beat writers and players, and beat writers and fans, and I met @ryanlawrence21 this weekend--good kid.)**
So I was a bit awestruck by Roy, but then at some point later in the (horrendous) game, Chad Durbin stood up. I wished I was closer so I could ask him why he doesn’t tweet anymore (and of course this was symptomatic of all the other unconventional questions I’d like to ask MLballplayers), but at the same time I knew that game situation or not, these guys probably wouldn’t, couldn’t or are just uninterested in carrying on a real conversation about the nerdy stuff I do and I think about. Despite the fact that they are right there, like any other celebrity I will never have real access to any of these people. So I asked myself: How does them being *right* there impact how I feel about them? How does them being seemingly real affect my perception of their personae? And in relation to this bolg: Do we want the fantasy that maybe Roy would absolutely love the ZWR bolg? Or do we need to acknowledge the reality that that blog is really just for us and has nothing to do with him because he would probably think it was creepy or weird or lame anyway? What kind of Roy Halladay does this bolg construct for us?**
**But for the record, when I went to ask ZWR if I could write today's SRHPY, I also asked myself how your pronounce SRHPY... dumb but intelligent, that's how we roll on this bolg, right?**
And Jillian concludes with:
Last night, for the first time all season, I had serious doubts that the Phillies would make playoffs. It’s always a bad sign when I have to resort to rating the hotness of the players with my friends to distract me from a bad game (cuz that’s been done). I have the distinct misfortune of entering the “diehard” years of my life-long Phillies phandom in 2008, so I really hate when they look like the fat kids on a little league team even against the worst pitchers. It hurts my heart and my pride. When the Phils lose, I take it personally. So, here I sit, using company time and money, to ponder this 9-inning pursuit of happiness that I get to be a part of. I love the game- even when I hate what is happening as Brad Lidge gives up a game-tying homer in the bottom of the ninth, it is this very same “anything is possible” characteristic of baseball that makes me love it. So Phillies- make me happy, please?
Thanks to everyone who contributed. Bolging is so easy!
And yes, the Phillies. Please make Jillian, and all of us, happy.