Mama!

Yesterday afternoon’s thrilling bottom of the 9^th inning come-from-behind win (against Billy Wagner no less!) reminded me of another thrilling Phillies’ rally on Mother’s Day 1993.

 

On May 9, 1993, the Cardinals were winning 5-2 going into the bottom of the 8^th (Phillies starter Curt Schilling had left the inning before after giving up 4 earned runs and throwing 118 pitches). Cardinals starter Bob Tewksbury faced the heart of the Phillies order in the bottom of the 8^th: their 3-4-5 hitters.

John Kruk struckout to start the inning. Dave Hollins tapped back to the pitcher for the 2^nd out. But then Darren Daulton singled and Wes Chamberlained doubled, sending Daulton to third.

In came imposing closer Lee Smith to stop the nonsense. He walked Milt Thompson on a full count. The tying run was now on base.

 

Up came free swinging SS Mariano Duncan. He drove the first pitch into the left center field stands for a grand slam and the 6-5 lead. I can still recall all of this because my brother and I, along with several other friends, were over at our buddy Wolffie’s house and as the Phils continued to put runners on in the eighth (with two outs) our attention turned more and more to the game on TV. And when Duncan hit the grand slam I vividly remember the pandemonium in his living room with about 8-10 of us jumping up and down and high fiving each other like the Phils had just won the pennant. (Of course, it being the Phils, we had to endure a Mitch Williams 9^th. Though I can’t recall this part of the game nearly as well, the box score indicates that Willams got the first two outs of the inning (one on a deep fly to left center), and then allowed a single before getting Ozzie Smith to pop up to the hero of the game, Mariano Duncan.)

 

There was something about that game. It’s easy in retrospect to see it as a harbinger of that magical ’93 season. It was all on display that day: the clutch hitting, the contributions from every part of the lineup, the Wild Thing ninth’s, and the never say die attitude. That last part can’t be overemphasized enough: that team never felt like it was out of a game, even down by 5 runs in the 9^th  there was always a sense that they could rally. It was a feeling that became a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

 

But it wasn’t just in hindsight. There was something about that game AT THE TIME that gave every Phillies fan the feeling that there was something special about this team, something special about this season. And we all enjoyed the ride (well, right up to the 9^th inning of game 6 in Toronto).

I also think there was something about the collective experience of watching that game. A bond was formed with all of us in Wolff’s living room, with each other and that team. Call it karma or whatever you want, but there was some sort of psychic power harnessed by all of us that bore witness to the magic of that game. It’s hard to explain, but if you watched that game you’d know the feeling you had about the ’93 Phillies after May 9.

Fast forward fourteen years. Yesterday’s win was Mother’s Day 1993 all over again. For a team that has suffered through bad bounces and the body blows of continual injuries, the series against the Mets up to yesterday was a reversal of fortune. Seemingly every bounce and break started to go the Phillies way, from Aaron Rowand’s 40 foot trickler that nestled on the foul line to Marlon Anderson being called out for interference that transformed a tie game into a game ending double play win.

 

But all of that was a prelude to yesterday’s 11-10 slugfest. Here are samples of the string of emails I sent out to friends yesterday as I listened to the game on my work computer:

·         Phils up 5-0 in the 3^rd after Burrell hit a 2 run HR (his career 40^th and 101 RBIs vs. Mets) and then a HR by Rowand! Not to overstate the obvious, but a sweep is the difference between 2 games in the standings

·         Rowand just caught a Conine drive at the top of the left center wall.

·         Inning later, Werth just climbed the out of town scoreboard wall to rob Beltran. I’m starting to get a special feeling about the Phils.

·         The relay throw that would have nailed Carlos Ruiz by 15 feet as he tried to stretch a double into a triple just hit him in the back….safe. Everything is bouncing their way.

·         Mets 4 run 8^th (so far) gives them 9-8 lead, including stolen 3^rd base and score on dropped throw. Why replace Romero with Alfonseca? Why?! Why!? Why?!

·         Burrell just hit HR to narrow lead. Met killer indeed.

·         Jimmy Rollins might just end this game right now in the bottom of the 9^th.

 

Once again, everyone contributed, including guys like Taguchi, Werth, and Ruiz, there was clutch hitting galore, a high-wire reliever (take your pick, Gordon or Alfonseca, who couldn’t get a single Met out yesterday), and that “never say die spirit.” And like the Mother’s Day come from behind win against the Cardinals, this one too completed a series sweep.

 

But here’s the eerie part. A lot of people I know were either watching or listening to yesterday’s game live. My brother had it on his car radio on a drive up to Philadelphia. I had it on my computer. Our friend Crow, who was in Wolff’s living room with us in 1993, was actually at the game. My stepfather just happened to be home, turned on the TV in the late innings and became fixated by the drama. Even my Mom for some reason was listening to it at work. My point is, that a lot of people were following this game live, a surprisingly high number (albeit from my limited perspective) for a Thursday afternoon game. My point is this: This team just got sprinkled with the collective pixie dust. August 30. Mark it down. Anything is now possible.