Alas, poor Yorick, we're Phillies fans
WHY DO WE CARE? That is the question? 'Tis not about outrageous fortune, or slings and arrows. It's about the Phillies. Our Phillies. Our team.
Alas, poor Yorick. I know them well. And they have cut out my heart and stomped on it so many times, I scant believe I have a heart left. What should be a flat spent bladder of blood still beats. And yet why? How?
Am I not a man? Do I not learn from suffering?
Or am I a jerkoff, bound to a single team because they are my jerkoffs? Do not confuse me with facts. My hurt is an ancient hurt. My belief is an ancient conceit. I believe the Phillies can win. I know the Phillies can win. I know, in my heart, the Phillies will break my heart as they have every year I've lived save once. And yet. . .I believe. Why?
This year it's Ryan Howard and Chase Utley. (Chase! What a great name for a Phillie underachiever.)
I write this during the intermission of a doubleheader with Atlanta. The Phillies were up 3-0 before losing, 4-3 this afternoon in a game strangely similar to the Phillies 5-4 loss to the Washington Nationals on Thursday night. Leading the whole time. Losing in the end with the closer holding on to a lead in the ninth.
Some people would give up on the Phillies. To those people I say, I understand exactly what you mean, but fuck you. I'm not built that way.
I must hope the same way you must give up. It's the way I am.
