I started out this weekend hoping for a nearly impossible run–seven for seven from my favorite teams. And this is how it went:

• On Friday night, the Flyers beat the Devils in NJ for the first time since 2004. It was the Flyers first win of the season

• Saturday started with a rare 4pm start game for the Flyers, who followed up their Friday victory with a home win against the Devils in overtime.

• After just enough of a break to let Flyers fans get home, Penn State beat Ohio State in the Horseshoe in Columbus for the first time in 30 years, keeping hopes of a championship run alive.

• Overlapping the PSU game by only a little, because of the rain, the Phils won an exciting game 3 of the World Series over the Tampa Bay Rays, setting off fireworks at 1:47am.

• Sunday started with a stunning Liverpool win over Chelsea at Stamford Bridge, where Chelsea hadn’t lost in 86 matches. This moved the Reds into first place in the Premiership and legitimizes their league championship hopes. I realize this doesn’t fit an amazing Philadelphia sports weekend. But you’ll note this is MY amazing sports weekend. Sadly, the game was not even available PPV. So of all the events of the weekend, I didn’t get to see this one.

• Then the Eagles beat Atlanta making it hard for Eagles tailgaters to follow instructions and leave immediately after the game, so the parking lots would be ready for Phillies fans.

• Finally, The Phils crushed the Rays in a dominating game 4 performance.

If you’re anything like me, you are exhausted and happy and looking forward to losing your mind tonight. It couldn’t happen to a more fiercely loyal, frustratingly pessimistic fanbase. None of that curse stuff today. None of the woe is me stuff. No complaining about perceived weaknesses. This is the day to take down the walls around your heart and let it beat for the Phillies. Love them right to a historic victory. Enjoy the ride!

But now that I have not even a Six-Pack plan, I had decided that the post-season was out of reach. I’d seen the ticket prices on Stub Hub and knew I couldn’t afford to go.

Today, I was jonesing big time for tickets for tonight’s game between the Phillies and the Dodgers. A post season without me? I couldn’t imagine it. But I went to Stub Hub again, to remind myself that the tickets were beyond me. What did I see but a set of three tickets behind the plate in the Hall of Fame Club at an unbelievably low price. I called the agency, asked them if the seller would consider selling a single (leaving them with a very easy-to-sell pair). They called the seller. He said yes. And I’m going to the Phillies game tonight.

Now I feel a little bad for the seller, because I think he underpriced his seats, thinking it would be too hard to sell the three. And I wonder, looking at a few of the very few tickets left for sale, if it is a function of not quite getting how the site works.

If you have a three tickets, it’s always smart to offer to sell either a single or the three together. If you sell the single, the site automatically resets to sell the pair. I know from experience that finding a single on a ticket site can be hard. And I know it is easier to sell a pair than to sell three. If you set up to sell 3 or 1, you’re increasing the possibility you’ll sell the tickets. For example, today, after I bought the single, the pair sold within a few minutes.

In any case, I’m glad the guy didn’t understand this. Because I was able to afford to go tonight, and I’m paying less for a premium seat than I would have for available nosebleeds or outfield seats.

Another thing struck me after I paid for the ticket. I’d been thinking that not being a season ticket holder meant I spent way too much for a playoff ticket. But then I thought, no, if I were a season ticket holder there would have been plenty of games I would have missed. I went to the games I wanted to go to and will go tonight for significantly less money than I would have to spend on a full season. I’ve decided paying up for the playoffs and going to only a handful of regular season games is the way to go. And next year (or maybe in two weeks or so) I won’t feel guilty about the price of the post season

Ok. Tell me you believed. Tell me that when Jimmie Rollins said the Phillies were “the team to beat” that you didn’t cringe, or smirk, or maybe even laugh out loud.

Tell me that when the Phillies free agent pitchers kept dropping like flies (or allowing big flies) that you didn’t start dreaming of Eagles or Flyers season.

Tell me that when Ryan Howard hit the disabled list, or when Chase Utley broke his hand, or when Cole Hamels elbow ached, that you said it was no problem. Tell me you thought the Phillies would be resilient. Tell me you didn’t think competitive was still the organizational buzzword for mediocrity.

Tell me that when the Phils were 4-11 that you thought Charlie Manuel would still be manager in September. Tell me no matter what you felt about his management of men that you didn’t pull your hair out with his management of the game.

Cliches become cliches because they carry such a concentration of truth, their use and reuse is unavoidable.

Isn’t it obvious? We didn’t need Bill Giles to speak up quite so cluelessly to know it, but his remarks that the fans aren’t really unhappy and those who are vocal are basically nut cases offer vivid evidence of the reality.

The one person most responsible for a team’s performance is the owner. Are there any teams out there with strong, committed, savvy ownership that are not successful? Owners put their stamp on the entire culture of the team from the product on the field/court/ice to all of the ancillary activities involved in running the organization. An owner with a passion for victory and a commitment to doing whatever it takes to create a culture of competition and accomplishment, while remembering the fan is the customer, makes all the difference.

The Philadelphia Phillies ownership group is fast becoming the Bill Wirtz of baseball. If, when challenged on burying your head in the sand, you bury it even deeper, loudly announcing that you have your head high above the crowds (or is it in the clouds), then you are telling everyone who depends on you—team employees, players, fans, media, advertisers, and marketing partners—that there is no hope. “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” (Proverbs 29:18)

The Phillies ownership needs to bear in mind, “Legatus non violatur.” (The messenger does not deserve to be harmed.) Listen to what is really being said. Listen to turnstiles slowing. Listen to the silence of the registers as the merchandise doesn’t move. Listen to the tenor of the crowd at games.

Most of the time, even a decent rally at the Cit doesn’t get the reaction it deserves, because the people there aren’t there for the baseball. They’re there for the experience. And the experience loses its luster when the excitement around the team isn’t there. It isn’t fun to be in a building half full of the disenchanted. It was bad enough sharing the big old Vet with expanses of blue seats and the feral cats. It feels somehow worse to see the empty seats in the Cit where fans with tickets never showed up, or even more tellingly, couldn’t find any takers when they tried to give them away. In the sixth or seventh inning, the fans are sprinkled thin, while most who did come have already given up and gone home, discouraged and disenchanted.

Sometimes callers and hosts on talk radio get out of hand. But this is not one of those times. The last time I went without baseball was after the 1996 All-Star year, when it was clear the Phillies ownership had no commitment to their team or their fans. I returned for every game in the last year in the old building and the first year in the Cit because it seemed the Phillies were trying to do the right things. The second year in the Cit, disgusted with the quality of the food and the quality of the on-the-field product, it was half the games. This year, I’m on target to attend six. If you can lose me, you can lose any (every?) one.

The Eagles’ fortunes may wax and wane. But Jeffrey Lurie won’t be sitting back letting the whole thing fall to ruin. When things get shaky competitively (which they may this year) I expect him to have the desire and the will to make whatever changes are necessary.

The Flyers, although owned by a corporate entity, still have a fiery Ed Snider with a passion for the sport. And although I know it is blasphemy, I don’t believe even Bob Clarke is untouchable if the team doesn’t recover from recent missteps.

Sadly, Snider’s grasp of NBA realities isn’t as strong and perhaps his passion is not equal to the task. But remember when Pat Croce, who’s style is 90% passion and commitment, had the Sixers and the city jumping?

The pundits, talk hosts, and the bitter vituperative Phillies fans have it right. The Phillies fortunes will not rise so long as the team is controlled by this ownership group–fat, somnolent, fully blinded by years of interpersonal connections to each other and the combination of dead weight and disenchanted throughout the organization. Complacency in a country club environment dooms the Phillies to serial failure. It leads to bad hires, no accountability, and underperformance at every level.

It’s hard to get rid of an owner. It’s even harder when there is an ownership group, with disparate levels of financial and personal stake and various stages of life. There is little hope of change here. The only option, Phillies fans, is to just stay home. This organization doesn’t hear you. They hear each other’s self-satisfied murmurings and their hands slapping each other on the back, chummy style. From you they hear only your money. Stop handing it over.

The Phillies current woes don’t start with the years and years of losing. The Phils had lost for years before the ’93 team. And in that year of blue snow, the team was lovingly, whole-heartedly embraced. No, the Phillies image problems are rooted in three main issues–the Bowa regime, a failure of the corporate communications process within the Phillies organization at all levels, and a structural change in the home crowd created by the design of the seating and pricing at the new ballbark.

[b]Mismanaging the Manager[/b]

The Phils allowed manager Larry Bowa to attack the players publicly, not only for performance, but for personality and character. The organization also, and probably more damagingly, did nothing to control the lovely little locker room digs that Bowa used to undermine the players with the press and the fans. This became clear only after Bowa had left. Once the guy who was willing to feed them only on his own terms was not longer in charge, reporters made it clear that the atmosphere was dramatically different under Manuel. And they fessed up that Bowa had been lawyering with the press against his team.

Fans, of course, had no way to know this. They were being fed a steady diet of stories and blind quotes that questioned the players’ character. They assumed the reporters, a fan’s only access, agreed. And certainly columnists piled on. The players had no way to defend themselves, since they were aware, as we were not, where it was coming from. And standing up for themselves only dug them deeper holes with Bowa and his media tools. Is it any surprise they hated playing for the guy? This wasn’t your typical tough guy coach. This wasn’t someone who demanded the best of them, while upholding his end of the bargain with the team. This was a petty, mean-spirited, little man who took the glory and never the blame. 

And the Phillies organization’s willingness to accept that behavior from the manager and unwillingness to stand up for its important assets, the players, has left a legacy of ill will toward the players by the fans that is largely undeserved, but difficult now to disperse. Years of campaigning with lies and half truths would take a concerted and carefully crafted campaign to overcome. And nothing in advertising, marketing, or PR seems to be particularly well-designed to turn the tide of public opinion. 

The other Bowa factor was in the way the Phils mishandled the Bowa firing and Manuel hiring. Bowa should have been fired much sooner, but the organization seemed to be terrified of taking a PR hit, even though it was taking a PR hit daily from the guy himself. Once the decision was made, the biggest mistake was to try to make believe Charlie Manuel was not the plan all along. By pretending there was a broad search, and putting Jim Leland on the map, the Phillies organization put itself in a lose/lose position. Everyone and their cat knew Manuel was a manager in waiting, if his health was stable. Taking a little heat, while standing up for a decision made some time before, would have won some grudging respect under the complaints. But lying about it lost the respect of pretty much everyone, even those who thought Manuel was the right choice. And it made the Phillies brain trust  look like it didn’t have the courage of its own convictions at the same time it looked foolishly, transparently duplicitous. If management thought Charlie was the right guy, just hire him and aggressively sell the story.

[b]Mismanaging the Message[/b]

As a bequest of the Bowa regime, the team was left without a single player that had a strong public image. Thome, who could have had a great deal of residual goodwill, lost a lot because of his relationship with Manuel, as a result of the clumsy handling of the hiring. Pretty much every other player on the roster had been undercut by Bowa and had disappeared from the public radar. Unless a fan attended a Caravan event, the players were invisible. And considering the fallout, who could blame the players for keeping low profiles?  

But that’s what a strong PR department can help with. I’ve respected Larry Shenk for years. And Phils marketing used to be an asset. But somewhere, there are links broken and they need to be fixed. The current players need to become the focus of advertising, marketing, community relations, and public relations. The organization has gotten so used to selling the experience, it no longer has any idea how to sell the product–even now that it has a good one. 

Who’s involved in the community? How? I remember when Terry Mulholland took it upon himself to assure that Philadelphia could afford to open public pools in the city. Curt Schilling became such a voice for ALS that he’s taken that cause with him to Arizona and Boston. Who’s doing something like that on the current team? Anyone? Surely there are guys who are doing something other than signing at the Phillies Wives events! But if there are, the spotlight outside the Phils website isn’t being focused on them and their commitment.  

The Phils needed to find a way from spring training on to train and support the players in selling themselves and this team to the fans without it seeming like they were whining about the old regime. It’s a walk on a knife’s edge, but a few of those guys are capable of doing it if the education process had been handled early and well. 

This team is full of good, personable, articulate guys. And yet, those who’ve spoken out this year have blown it. The players themselves have dreadful cases of foot in mouth (you never blame the fans, ever). Their reaction to adversity (and this year’s definition of adversity is so much less severe than what they, and we, have lived through over the past decade) is to blame the fans or the media and go into hiding. Not the best tactic.  

I adore Kenny Lofton as a player, but I can’t understand how a guy can be as successful as he has been for as long as he has been and have no idea what’s coming out of his mouth!  

David Bell came into the Houston series after finally putting together a string of productive games. He could have had the fans eating out of his hand. Instead Bell started the key series of the year with an error and followed up by looking as clueless at the plate as he had before his little hot streak. Then Bell all but closed the series with the error that led to the sweep. Billy Wagner, who had loads of public support early, especially when he was willing to publicly call out the team for not knowing how to win (which was needed!), blew it by criticizing the fans for booing David Bell after Wagner himself blew two saves in two days in a series the team had to win!. What? Were fans supposed to give Bell a HUG? You’re telling me no one in that dugout wanted to smack him upside the head? 

Now, the only guy who consistently makes himself available on camera any more is a platoon player/pinch hitter who’s been arrested for punching a cop. This is not the guy you want carrying the flag for you with the press! (Surely a plea agreement could have been reached at the time with him admitting, apologizing, and doing some community service. Instead, it’s being dragged out from rescheduling to rescheduling and making Michaels look like a wretched perp who’ll do anything to avoid taking responsibility for his own actions.)

With Burrell having a productive year, he could have been more visible. What better way to rehabilitate his image than to highlight how productive he can be when allowed to be. Isn’t there a way for him to communicate his relief and pride without it coming across as bitter? I think so. But he hasn’t even been shown to try. In fact, the team has seemed to be afraid he’ll hit a cold streak even more than the fans are. The Phils don’t want to touch this guy, when they should be crowing about how the organization’s patience has paid off. 

Abreu was an All-Star, but he’s all but invisible. Do his occasional brain cramps irk? Of course. But every player has plusses and minuses. Everyone, even the Phils announcers, now, seem to concentrate on his imperfections. Use the personable, attractive, productive Bob Kelly Abreu in an ad, maybe explaining where he got that name in Venezuela. (Oh, and maybe get him some Ritalin, too.)

Even Chase Utley, who’s wildly popular, is a cypher (although, perhaps he’s wildly popular because he never speaks). 

How long has the end of this lineup been a black hole? How is it no one knows that Lieberthal and Bell are hitting? Wouldn’t an ad showing these guys hitting and trumpeting how things have changed bring some much-needed reassessment from those watching?

Finally, the Phils have professional messengers on air every night. They’re wasted trying to be cutesy and homey, when they could be beating the drum for this team. And no, that doesn’t mean telling me what great kids they are, especially when there’s nothing backing it up

[b]Mismanaging the Ballpark[/b]

I’ve figured out what’s wrong with Phillies fans. They think of a season as a series of one-game seasons. There’s no concept of 162 games. If a guy is a goat in one game, he’s a goat forever. For example, if Burrell goes 0-fer on Saturday against the Marlins, it doesn’t matter that he had 8 RBI in the other two games, he sucks! Part of the reason for my annoyance at being at ballgames any more is having to sit next to idiots who think like that. My second favorites are those who call the game with their hearts and not their eyes so that from the upper deck they know what all the ball and strike calls should have been. 

Part of the lack of perspective is that season ticket holders can’t really afford to go to all the games any more. Let’s face it, at the Vet a season ticket holder between the bases paid at most $20 per seat. Now, similar seats at the Cit go for anywhere from $40 to $90. Most people are at least splitting with another person or group, and most are splitting the season up 4-8 ways.  

I also remember advising the Phils not to make the seats behind the plate premium. I’d seen at even the old Tiger Stadium, and later at PNC Park, how those seats, when made club seats, would be filled with people who weren’t watching the game, didn’t react to the game, arrived late, and left early. It’s bad for the stadium experience for everyone, because there isn’t that core of diehards leading the fan reaction. 

At the Cit, most of the noncorporate folks have been pushed from between the bases to out along the lines. So you don’t have that core of people behind the plate and the dugouts who used to be there consistently and had perspective. Back when I was there every night in the 90s, folks behind the plate (and later behind the on deck circle) included some of the same people every night, or every other night. So they had a better idea of who had been playing well or poorly over the season. And they had an emotional connection with the team.  

That just isn’t true of most people at the ballpark any more. A lot of people are there to see the new building or are simply out for an evening. They don’t follow the team on television. They don’t know what’s going on. So they react negatively because their experience on their one night they dropped anywhere from $80-160 on tix for a group of four was spoiled. That’s what you get when you build up, and make people pay up.

Another issue has to be concessions. I know it is possible to get a grilled hotdog placed on a fresh non-wet bun and served fresh even at a busy ballpark. I’ve had them all over North America. The dog in Wrigley, which isn’t built with all the modern conveniences, happens to be such a dog. Why, when the Cit is loaded with grills, are all the dogs wrapped and held in steam trays so the buns are mushy and any grilled texture or flavor is long gone before the customer buys them? 

[b]Managing the Message[/b]

The Phillies don’t need an image consultant. The Phillies need a strong corporate communications manager with experience managing crisis communications. They need someone to create a communications plan for every level of the organization and see that it is carried out.  

Everyone needs to know the message and stay on it from the owners–who must become at least identifiable, if not highly visible–to the team’s management–in uniform and not–to the players, to the ushers, to the concessionaires.  

Advertising needs to focus on the players who are playing well, the players who have personality, and the players who look good. Even in baseball, in those stupid uniforms that make even the buffest guy look like a doofus in his PJs, sex sells. And be sure the ads are fresh. The season lasts 162 games, six months, and runs through many story lines. Don’t tie the message throughout the season down to what the ad folks thought would happen before the season even began. 

Marketing needs to focus on what the fans want and want to see.

• Make all giveaways for all the fans. If the New York Mets can get this right, surely the Phillies can.
• Find a way to package infield tickets to get fans into them. The transient corporate visitor doesn’t add to the ballpark experience for anyone—players, crowds, listeners, or viewers.

The game-day experience can be improved.

• Enough of the stupid sound effects. They’re not cool. Any kid who’s played a video game knows they’re not. Let the game speak for itself during the innings.
• Update the between inning music. Hire someone who’s been to a club since 2001. (Last year’s opening montage with Evanescence was brilliant. This year’s is completely forgettable.)
• I know the players pick their tunes. But someone needs to explain to them what the tunes are for and provide some guidance (or at least have veto power). The current list is snooze inducing, not inspiring.
• Make the stats highlights more timely. Don’t preprocess them so early and run static boring stuff out. And don’t wait until the last at bat to update the fans on what I guy has done. Unless you catch the screen at just the right moment, you’ll miss what a player did in an earlier at bat. It should be up there every time a hitter steps to the plate. And if you can sprinkle it with a little situational statistical analysis (like batting average with men in scoring position, or batting average late and tight) so much the better. Maybe if the fans know a player is usually good in a situation, they’ll be less likely to boo when he doesn’t come through.

And please, fix the on-air team. There is no chemistry between anyone and Scott Graham. The entire tri-state area hears Harry winding down and is terrified we’ll be stuck with Graham’s colorless play-by-play for the next 20 years. Listen to a tape of 10 home run calls and tell me you can tell the difference between any of them. There is no way to know the situation or impact. You may as well have an audio board and be pressing labeled buttons for all the juice he has. 

While you’re fixing them, the shout outs to sick people, old people, birthday people, or people who’s friends are at the ballpark (ooooh) are just brutal. Who can listen to that? And make Chris Wheeler stop giggling. When he doesn’t giggle, and isn’t talking about what a great guy some wife beater is, you realize he may just know his baseball stuff. 

Tell stories about the guys on the field. Their backgrounds, their lives, their community service, their interests, their families. Don’t waste time on stupid inside jokes that no one who isn’t part of their little club understands or finds the slightest bit amusing.  

Tell the truth about the game as it is played. When the guy messes up, don’t pretend he didn’t (thank you Larry Anderson). But when the guys are hot, or consistent, or on a hot streak, be sure that’s getting as much attention as the 100-year-olds’ birthdays. (Hint: It’s more important.) 

It will take planning, education, commitment, and constant adjustment, but the Phillies can be rehabilitated. At least until the fans realize the minor league cupboard is bare and this is all there will be for a very long time.

Today, in Houston, the Astros clinched a wild card berth. They did it with a midseason replacement manager, Phil Garner, who is described as both “fiery” and “relaxed.” Imagine that.

And then imagine for a moment that Ed Wade had grown the balls to fire Larry Bowa on August 2 after the Phils began a key road trip one and six. Would another manager, a fiery, relaxed guy, who could actually manage the National League game and manage a bullpen, have been able to save the Phillies season?

You see, for me, it isn’t about personality. It isn’t good guy versus bad guy, gentle guy versus tough guy, tight guy versus loose guy. For me, it’s can the guy manage all the little things in a ballgame that make a team win or lose that game? It’s can the guy manage each game within the context of the bigger picture, knowing there is another game tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, all needing a full complement of resources to make it possible for a team to win more games than it loses? It’s can he keep guys physically and mentally healthy by knowing his players well enough to know when a guy needs a blow? Does he know when to push and when to lay off? Does he know how to stretch pitchers early so they can be counted on to go deeper and deeper into games late in the year? Does he know how to get the most out of his bullpen resources, without tiring out the effective guys and demoralizing the struggling guys? Does he know how to keep a guy or two fresh at any time by carefully husbanding the resources game by game?

And this, you see, is where Larry Bowa failed. It isn’t because he’s fiery. There are fiercely competitive guys out there managing effectively without burning bridges. It’s because he can’t do those things in paragraph three. He manages each game as though it is game seven of the World Series. Tomorrow be damned. But then, even if it were game seven, I’d disagree with the way he does it.

There are those in the Phils organization and in the fan base who point to injuries. Well, Andy Pettitte hasn’t pitched for Houston in months, and they’re going to the post season. And I have had this niggling question in the back of my mind since the bullpen fell apart in the second half last year. (you remember, the bullpen that was tops in baseball in the first half of 2003). Didn’t the way Bowa used the pitchers predispose the group to injury?

The injuries in the pen have been primarily injuries of periodic overuse–tendonitis and tired arm–not the tears of poor mechanics and long-term wear and tear. When did Larry Bowa decide that he had a staff of Dan Plesacs who could really be expected to pitch no more than an inning at a time? Because, he had only one Dan Plesac, and that was last year. The rest of the crew could go a couple or three innings as long as they had a day or two of rest between appearances. But that isn’t the way Larry manages the bullpen. Everyone seems to pitch or warm up almost every night. No one but Madson regularly pitched more than an inning at a time in relief for much of the year. That led to the bullpen falling apart again in the second half of 2004. It was self-inflicted déjà vu.

I have many Bowa pet peeves. But the quick hook from day one is the major one. The Phils starters, when they are having an effective start, are almost never stretched. When Bowa may pinch hit for one in a tight game, but ends up not getting to the pitcher’s spot, he never brings the pitcher back, no matter how well he was pitching. Are you telling me there’s no one on the staff with the maturity to stay in the game mentally when there is only the possibility he might be pinch hit for?

There is also almost never a double switch. You can save the bullpen wear and tear if you can plan to let a guy go two or three every few nights, instead of one every night. It isn’t only the pitching in the game, it’s the warming up (whether the reliever is used or not) and not letting a guy rest his arm for days at a time. This is especially tough on the smaller harder throwing types like Billy Wagner, whom Bowa wasn’t going to use for more than three nights in a row, until he did April 15 through 18, and wasn’t going to use for two innings, until he did April 21–the best laid plans and all that. I was surprised it took as long as it did for Wagner to break down.

My other issue with Bowa is day to day management of the game. I’ll give one example, the most glaring, which sticks most in my craw because it cost the Phils a chance at a home win (against, ironically, the Astros) when they were still, barely, alive. It’s the bottom of the ninth, two out, Phillies down 9-8 at home. Jim Thome, hobbled by a wonky hamstring, is at first with David Bell coming to the plate. I actually wrote in my scorecard a little PR in the four hole, fully expecting there’d be a pinch runner for Thome. To my dismay, there was no pinch runner. To perfect the horror, Bell hit a double. If Bowa had put in a runner for Thome, the Phils would have at least gone to extra innings. Instead, the Phils ended the game with the bases loaded (Lieberthal was hit by a pitch).

In the end, the Phils needed a manager who could take the 20-30 games a year that a manager can win by guts and guile. They needed the guy to massage, mesmerize, and mallet his team into winning those games that meant the difference between playing in the postseason and going home after 162 games. They needed a manager who would find a way to put the right guys in the right positions to win those games. Larry Bowa wasn’t that guy. Sadly for the Phils, he was fired at least two months too late.

After years of longing, Phillies fans finally got to enter their brand new baseball palace.

It isn’t quite finished. But when you look at the face of your newborn, you don’t notice the bruises from the delivery. You just see a perfect baby you’ve been waiting nine months for. And today, Phillies fans saw their baby they’d waited years and years for.

It was worth the wait.

So much is done right. The brick and glass of the exterior looks like Philadelphia. It’s just sad that it’s in the middle of nowhere. The design would have fit perfectly in a neighborhood, as original dreams would have delivered. But today’s a day to praise, not pine. And this is a place deserving of praise.

It isn’t that there aren’t some things I’d like done differently. For example, even though the premium seats have cup holders, the drinks should have lids. No one wants peanut shells or, heaven forbid, bugs floating in their drinks. A premium ($6) grilled half-pound hotdog should go directly from grill to bun, not be held in a pretty dish under a lid. It loses the grilled flavor and texture and comes out cold by the time you’ve paid the cashier who can’t count to 10 (yes, everyone in the Baker Bowl stand could see this, but apparently complaints fell on deaf supervisory ears).

Out among the hoi polloi, some of the concession lines in the concourses (for those few that were open for business as usual) are confusing and disorganized. There were some where the line for food went far down the concourse, but there were six cashiers standing around waiting for paying customers. But these issues can all be corrected over time.

And then it struck me, as I walked through the lower concourse, cheek by jowl with thousands of other faces split with the same childlike grin. Yes, there are other new ballparks, beautiful new ballparks. But in each one, even my beloved Pac Bell, my joy was tempered by envy. Today, my joy was pure.

Today I walked through my new ballpark.

One day, a prince came to the City of Brothers. He came to fulfill their longing. He came to make their dreams come true. The heralds of the city cried out that he was a great prince. They told the brothers of the city that Prince Scotty of Jasper would bring championships to the city. Prince Scotty was strong and good, they said. He would love the brothers as they loved him. The prince’s skill and power and work and fire would bring glory to the City of Brothers.

So the brothers loved Prince Scotty. They cheered him when he was fast. They roared when he was strong. They cried out to see him when he did great deeds. They believed that Prince Scotty, although a quiet prince, loved them. They held fast to the hope that he shared their dreams. They believed.

For some time, the brothers’ love of Prince Scotty flowed easily. But the prince accepted their love grudgingly. The brothers saw this and thought it was good. They believed Prince Scotty was a modest prince. So they loved him all the more.

Then, one winter, from his warm southern palace, Prince Scotty spoke. He told the heralds that the courtiers of the city of brothers did not share his passion to conquer. He told the brothers of the city that they deserved better from the courtiers. And the brothers of the city agreed with their prince. The brothers shouted out to the courtiers that they must make Prince Scotty happy. They begged the courtiers to please their prince, so he would not dream of leaving them for another city.

When Prince Scotty returned to the City of Brothers for the heat of competition, the prince’s army won many battles, even though his warriors did not share Prince Scotty’s strength or skill or speed. But few warriors in the land possessed such gifts. Then it became clear some of these warriors did not have Prince Scotty’s fire. And the brothers of the city rumbled with displeasure when the warriors did not show desire. But Prince Scotty loved one heartless warrior with a strong love. And when the brothers of the city murmured against this warrior, Sir Travis of San Diego, Prince Scotty was displeased.

In spite of this, the courtiers tried to make Prince Scotty happy. They told the brothers that they had plied Prince Scotty with an offer of great riches, greater riches than had ever been bestowed on any prince of the City of Brothers. The courtiers began to build a beautiful palace for the prince, a palace more beautiful than any of the brothers had been able to imagine. And the courtiers showered worthy warriors with much wealth, to ensure that Prince Scotty would have a strong army with which to wage war.

But Prince Scotty’s heart had turned away from the brothers. His eyes had turned to another city near the place of his birth. He longed to play in the City of Saints. Still, he spoke words to the heralds that encouraged the citizens of the City of Brothers. But the brothers could sense that Prince Scotty’s heart was no longer with them. They began to mistrust their once-beloved prince. A few at a time, the brothers began to murmur against Prince Scotty. The prince became more and more truculent. And when the brothers cried out to see him after great triumphs, Prince Scotty refused to show himself to the brothers. He said he was not that kind of prince. He did not realize he was saying he was not a gracious prince. But some of the brothers could see, and they were disillusioned.

The brothers who still loved Prince Scotty prayed he would not turn from them. They cried out to the courtiers to do whatever it took to keep Prince Scotty in the City of Brothers. But the courtiers knew Prince Scotty could not be pleased. And over the screaming protest of the brothers, they escorted Prince Scotty to the gates of the City of Brothers and bid him go.

The outcry in the City of Brothers was great. The brothers condemned the courtiers for being faint of heart. The warriors grumbled in their barracks in disappointment and fear of defeat. The courtiers could do nothing to calm the brothers.

Then the heralds of the City of Saints began to call out their news. Prince Scotty of Jasper was now a prince of the City of Saints. On his first day in the City of Saints, Prince Scotty declared, “I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

The saints rejoiced at the arrival of Prince Scotty. They had been in mourning. Their Prince Darryl of Garden Grove had died and left the saints without a great warrior. Still they did not see the inappropriateness of Prince Scotty’s declaration. And they welcomed Prince Scotty with exultation.

The saints did not sympathize with the brothers. They believed evil lies spread about the brothers by the heralds of the City of Saints. They believed that Prince Scotty had been driven away by the brothers. The saints had not heard the pleas of the brothers to Prince Scotty not to desert them. The saints did not see the tears of the brothers as they watched their prince ride away. The saints embraced Prince Scotty just as the brothers had once done.

That winter, a great prince was cast out of the City by the Lake because the city had no warriors for him to lead. The people of the City by the Lake wept. But still they loved Prince Jim of Peoria, because they knew he left only to lead a great army. Prince Jim came to the City of Brothers to lead its young and powerful warriors. The brothers were jubilant at his arrival. Here was a truly great prince of the people.

Prince Jim loved the brothers with a great love. He brought the warriors to him and trained them in the way they should go, both at war and in the city. And the warriors learned from him and gained heart at his leadership.

In the next season of battle, one warrior for the City of Brothers, Sir Pat of Eureka Springs, failed in battle as he had never failed before. But very few brothers murmured against Sir Pat. Most of the brothers had seen and remembered that he had great skill and power. And when those brothers who did murmured caused consternation, Sir Pat acknowledged that he shared their frustration. He did not rail against those who despised him. When Sir Pat succeeded in battle and the brothers cried out to see him, he did not appear. He explained that he did not deserve their love, because he won so few battles. And in his strength of heart, he won the brothers to him. And they ceased murmuring and began to encourage Sir Pat.

When the wars of the season gained importance, the City of Saints engaged in a battle with the City of Brothers. Prince Scotty was no longer the greatest prince among the saints, but he was still much loved by them. When Prince Scotty entered the palace in the City of Brothers the brothers murmured against him with one great voice. A great number of brothers gathered to see their new and worthy Prince Jim defeat the disappointing Prince Scotty, whom they had loved in vain.

Their pain and anger against their once-great prince was awesome to see. No one could remember such a loud murmur against a once-beloved prince.

The heralds of the City of Saints expressed outrage. They could not comprehend the brothers’ outcry. Why would they hate a prince they had driven out. They did not understand that the brothers did not send Prince Scotty away, but that Prince Scotty deserted them and their hopes.

The warriors of the City of Brothers vanquished the warriors of the City of Saints. Their jubilation at the victory of Prince Jim and the other warriors of the City of Brothers was loud and swelled with joy and pride in their worthy warriors. And their love was returned in full measure. When Prince Jim and Sir Pat struck mighty blows against the warriors of the City of Saints, the brothers rose as one and shouted their approval, their cries bringing Prince Jim and Sir Pat forth to receive their due adulation.

The heralds of the great union of all cities were perplexed. They had not seen the love of the brothers for Prince Scotty. They did not understand the pain that still tore the brothers’ hearts. They had believed the false witness of the heralds of the City of Saints.

These heralds of the nation also said that the brothers were inconsistent in their joy for Sir Pat. The heralds of the nation claimed that the brothers had murmured with great anger at Sir Pat, these heralds did not look with their eyes to see the rising brothers in the part of the palace where Sir Pat did battle. They did not hear the cheering for Sir Pat to encourage him in his battles. These heralds did not report the truth from the City of Brothers. They spoke in ignorance and spread misconceptions about the brothers and their warriors.

When warriors of the City of Saints left the City of Brothers without a single battle won, ringing in their ears were the murmurs of the brothers against Prince Scotty. These murmurs are a warning to the citizens of the City of Saints. Look carefully at your Prince Scotty. Yes, he has power and skill and speed. But see that there is no joy. Beware of loving a prince who has no love in him.

People who haven’t read the Dowd report won’t offer an opinion on whether or not Pete Rose should be reinstated to eligibility to participate in baseball or election to the Baseball Hall of Fame. If we counted on opinion polls for important decisions, we’d have had a nuclear war already. The uninformed and uninterested are always delighted to offer an opinion. Its value is another thing entirely.

NHL teams will not announce “it’s not a concussion” when we’ve seen a player unconscious on the ice and wobbling off it like a man on the way to the drunk tank. It isn’t just a headache, no matter how many times you repeat the phrase. Treat the players with the appropriate caution and the fans with the appropriate respect. Players aren’t disposable (although Mike Modano can’t be faulted for feeling they are treated as if they are) and the fans aren’t stupid.

On the same subject, in addition to installing more flexible glass, which is supposed to be in all arenas by the end of this week, the NHL will mandate the end of upper-body armor. Players can get sufficient protection with soft padding for shoulders and elbows, and then their shoulders and elbows become much less career threatening as weapons used against other players.

Michael Jordan will retire permanently and remove himself permanently from my notice. We won’t be able to help hearing him called the greatest player ever and I suppose he’s earned that. But any other mention of him should be punishable by banishment to the auxiliary (no buffet) press box.

The Flyers won’t trade a promising young player. For anyone. Period. Watching this team struggle to score, while Ruslan Fedotenko (the guy who provided high energy and timely scoring late last season for the old orange and black, but for whom ice time couldn’t be found on this top-heavy squad of underachievers) and Vaclav Prospal scoring and thriving with the (no this isn’t a misprint) suddenly competitive Tampa Bay Lightning, is torture. Prospal would lead the Flyers in scoring (8 goals, 25 assists, 33 points) and Fedotenko would be fourth (8, 7, 15). Look to Jan Hlavac at Carolina, who would be third (7, 11, 18). Even Eric Lindros, suddenly considered overrated by the league’s GMs, who hasn’t had a steady line and has switched back and forth from center to right wing, would be leading the Flyers in scoring (11, 12, 23), tied with Jeremy Roenick (12, 11, 23).

Athletes will leave their kids off the dais during press conferences (retirement announcements receive special dispensation). Not only don’t I buy it that they are model fathers (if Allen Iverson is ever there to tuck the kids in, it’s because he leaves for the clubs after they’ve gone to sleep), but don’t the increasingly security conscious athletes realize they are painting big red targets on those kids for the criminally inclined? A little anonymity could only help a child living in a famous parent’s shadow.

Neil Hartman will realize it is unprofessional to make no attempt to correctly pronounce athletes’ names and will find someone to coach him. Steve Coates will realize that the majority of people watching the Flyers’ broadcasts aren’t named Smith and will discontinue the practice of making fun of names that didn’t originate in the British Isles.

Baseball’s owners will decide they need a real commissioner to regain the trust of the fans and the vibrancy of the game. It would help if that commissioner loved the game with contagious passion and had a resultant ability to conceive of how to market the game effectively. Bud Selig’s current mismanagement of the Pete Rose situation is a perfect illustration of his inability to do what is best for baseball. And it is also a pathetically transparent a play for personal popularity. It isn’t a popularity contest Bud. Save the game, and the fans will love you. Kill it, and they’ll hate you, whether Rose is enshrined or not.

The Flyers offensive players will start shooting. Wayne Gretzky wisely said, “100% of shots not taken don’t go in.” (Actually, that’s not entirely true, considering the errant passes that glance off of skates and past helpless Flyers’ goalies.) There is only one Flyer in the top 50 in shots taken. Are you ready for this? Eric Desjardins.

Phillies fans will be patient with Jim Thome early, recognizing that the notoriously slow-starting slugger will more than make up for April during the rest of the season. And they’ll enjoy the season for what it is–an opportunity to watch a well-constructed team, with a chance to compete–no matter the results.

A non-Philadelphia reporter will cover a major Philadelphia sports event without dissing the fans. I’ve seen fans throw objects, bottles, and invective at a visiting team as it celebrated winning a championship. In Toronto.

ESPN will bring back NHL2Night on a nightly basis before the playoffs. Tell me how you can spend a half hour every night talking football, which is played on the weekend, but you can’t talk nightly about hockey, which is played pretty much every day for nine months.

Jim Thome will hit 50 home runs. Pat Burrell will hit 40. And the Phillies will be in the playoffs, win or lose, it will be a great step.

The Flyers will, as usual, be out in the first round, so that finally they’ll have to unload the dead wood–starting with the GM.

Last, but not least, the Eagles will win the Super Bowl. (And there will be rejoicing in the streets without violence.)

Happy New Year to me. And to you.