Great Day at the Park: Whiffle Ball Triumph, South Philly Babes, a Cecil Martin (sort of) Sighting, and Even a Little Baseball.

My main man Grossy took my two cousins, J.B. and Tommy, and me to the Phillies game yesterday. It was a shame that it was a day game (3:00 pm start time) which unfortunately meant we had to leave work early. Because of the notorious Philadelphia traffic, we left at noon just to be safe. After listening to a Bob Marley medley on the way down, we arrived at 12:15, shouting E-A-G-L-E-S, EAGLES!!!!!

When we pulled in the parking lot, we spotted four guys playing whiffle ball. We immediately told them we could beat them like a drum, and the game was on. Two innings, some clutch hitting (Grossy’s majestic home run, otherwise known as a four base error that got through the shortstops legs and rolled most of the way to the Linc), and one scraped elbow later (if you see J.B., ask him to see the raspberry he got on a beautiful diving stop to end a rally in the bottom of the second), the good guys emerged with a 8-5 victory. With our taste of winning satiated, we move inside McFaddens to quench our thirst for the Captain.

Opting for a table in the beautiful sunshine at McFaddens, we ordered three beers and a Captain and 7. When my Captain arrived, it was mixed with Coke instead of 7. I told the waitress that I needed 7 because I was off caffeine. She informed me that she was from South Philly and would kick my ass if I gave her any trouble. I informed her that Coke would be just fine. Mmmmmm, Coke. Several rounds later, J.B., Tommy, and I decided it might be a good idea to line our stomachs with food. Grossy decided that he could intensify his buzz if he in fact went without anything to eat. Needless to say, when it was time to head to the stadium, Grossy stumbled just a bit.

After wandering through two VIP areas that Grossy somehow had finagled tickets to, and of course picking up new drinks at each stop (in one of the clubs, we saw Tom McCurdy, our Controller from the office, who apparently got the memo that nobody was working yesterday!), we managed to get to the seats before the first pitch but after the National Anthem, thereby avoiding what was increasingly becoming a difficult task for Grossy, standing.

We made it through the 4th inning, watching the Phils build a 3-1 lead. At that point, we decided that due to the damaging nature of the sun, we would be best served by getting out of the sun. So purely for the health benefits, we left our seats in the sun, and headed back into McFaddens. During that 4 minute walk, the Phils squandered their lead, and the score was 3-3. Because we like to think of ourselves as testosterone-filled teenagers, we spent the next half hour debating how we could get a picture of this girl whose thong was showing without getting caught. This entailed me to walk up behind her, pretending I was talking on the phone and watching the game on TV while simultaneously pointing the phone at her butt. As you might guess, this did not work all that well. On the bright side, I think I pulled a muscle in my back just attempting the stunt. Just to show you the effort was there, here was my best shot....

All of a sudden, Grossy looked like he was about to die, and said that he was indeed going to die if he did not eat something fast to soak up the couple of, er, 13 or 14, beers that he had imbibed to that point. So off he went, while J.B., Tommy and I continued to strategize over the thong picture while debating which of the cocktail waitresses was cutest.

Grossy finally came back a new man, and we decided we should get back to our seats and watch the last two innings. Again, we headed back on our brief journey for the Top of the 8th, only to discover that we had somehow missed two more Colorado runs. 5-3 Rockies, still nobody out in the top of the 8th (so, we missed a pitching change and two runs but no actual outs).

Heading in the bottom of the 9th, Grossy was so blistered that he agreed to bet me $8 (only getting 5-to-2 odds) that the Phillies would rally to win the game (it was now 6-3) despite the fact that David Bell, Sal Fasano and the pitcher were scheduled to hit. I am telling you if I could make bets like these more often, I might be retired. As you might guess, the Phillies went down 1-2-3 in the 9th. With my $8 secured, we decided that we would head back to McFaddens, as it would be unwise to leave then and battle all the traffic.

When we went back to McFaddens, we saw the one and only remaining Cecil Martin jersey left in circulation, with autograph and everything. We had to celebrate this with another round of drinks. When we went inside the bar, the waitresses were all standing on the bar pouring instant margaritas down patrons throats for free. At this point, I actually checked my drivers license to make sure I was not actually 21 and on spring break. Damn, still 38.

Since the boys I was with had to get home for dinner, we headed out after about an hour and, despite my incessant and some might say annoying pleadings to change course and go to Atlantic City or head out for dinner, we headed home. Overall, a great day at the park, thanks to Grossy for making it a reality, and if anyone wants to get in future blogs, just entertain me at a business person’s special.

Oh, and remember what I wrote yesterday about what a great day and the Philly teams were all winning. Well, after this 6-3 loss, let me re-phrase. the Phillies suck!

One final thing for those of you following these things closely. Remember my last trip to the dentist in January (one of my most popular posts, click here and scroll to the January 24th post if you need a reminder or did not see it click here . Well, I went back to the dentist this morning, complete with Captain Morgan seeping through my pores, and I got my second straight glowing report from a disappointed hygienist, who was hoping for a TKO. Gotta love the water pik….