In the end, as I watched the Phillies celebrate their 5-1 victory in full view of 56,800 dejected locals, an eerie hush descended on Chavez Ravine. It sounded like the sweetest tune you ever heard.
The Phils won the NLCS, four games to one, and now they're headed to their first World Series in 15 years. That is both amazing and difficult to fathom.
In an attempt to make sense of the surreal, I went in search of Philadelphians who had made the trip west to Cali. My quest delivered me into the company of Zach Gibson and Myles Pettengill. They've been friends for a long time, and they decided to travel to L.A. to root for the Fightin's. Both are 25, born in the same year as the city's last championship. What a terrible curse.
When they were kids, they each attended the 1993 World Series, and they've lived with disappointment ever since. But when I asked whether they were optimistic about the Phillies' chances to complete this incredible run, when I asked whether they believed, neither hesitated.
"This is it," Pettengill said. "This is what we've been waiting for our whole lives."
And then, just to make sure I fully understood, Gibson added "[Expletive] yeah."
They couldn't have looked happier. The same could not be said for Dodgers fans, who sulked to their cars with very long faces indeed. Out in the parking lot, an endless trail of brake lights snaked slowly toward the 110 and the 5 like some horrible funeral procession.
And I thought: Drive home safely, Angelenos. Your health is all you have now.
Cheers
Cole Hamels: Amazing. That's really all there is to be said.
Jimmy Rollins: He smoked a leadoff home run, which made the crowd apoplectic. The guy who caught the ball out in the right-field bleachers threw it back, and everyone cheered. Small victories, I guess.
