nothing to squawk about....

Now I must remind you my dear loyal wonderful readers that though I am in Lambertville and much closer to Philadelphia than NYC, I remain a loyal fan of all New York sports. Funny part is, I am dating a fan as devout as I to her hometown sports.


It makes for some difficult times. Yes, she roots for the Eagles and the Phillies... I root for the Giants and Yankees.... Thankfully the one thing we can agree upon is the Mets. We're not fans of that team, for a myriad of reasons and because of this an uneasy coexistance permeates our lives together. Of course, as the lead members of your Home Vacation Team we remain professional in our quest to find all things good and cheap and fun to share with you.


Janet, who has T.O.'s number tattooed on her shoulder and loves dressing as Donovan McNabb on Halloween and goes into convulsions every time Chase Utley is at bat, purchased tickets in March to a Phillies/Diamonbacks game for August 18th; this past Tuesday. I cannot afford to purchase similar tickets at Yankee Stadium and she got hers at the incredible price of $39 per, which included preferred parking passes! Best of all, it turns out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher I've admired since his days with the Boston Red Sox and the New York Mets, had come out of retirement to pitch for the Sillies...sorry.... had to slip that in!... and was making his second start for the team that night! As a fan of the game I was terribly excited.


We first had a couple of beers and some wings at the iconic Chickie's and Pete's Crab House and Sports Bar. According to my Philadelphia counterpart of the equally iconic Home Vacation Team, "Chickie" is a South Philadelphia nickname for Charles....not some girl in a bikini.... The vast open bar was buzzing with excitement; the last time Martinez pitched the Phillies won 12-3. The wings were crunchy and hot and most importantly, reasonably priced. We had just one beer each and nothing else to eat; we wanted to save ourselves for the ball park. So, with thoughts of crab fries and mussels and burgers toying with our palates, we drove across Broad Street into the south Philadelphia sports complex and Citizen's Bank Park.


Our seats were just beyond first base about 17 rows back; great seats to get whacked by a foul ball. Before we took our seats though, we had to eat. We toured the ballpark and walked along the perimeter ogling all the fine cuisine available. There were several cheese steak stands, the Schmitter, created by McNally's in Chestnut Hill, was available and all the typical food available at ballparks throughout the country. But, at CBP at someplace called Asburn Alley is Greg "The Bull" Luzinski's Bull's BBQ! I had been to the park once before with my friend Stan, a big Phillie's fan and he introduced me to Luzinski and the great bbq his place serves and was thankful that Janet too was looking forward to eating here. We bought a couple of Pulled Pork Sandwiches bought some Yards Philadelphia Pale Ales and the Brewerytown beer stand just opposite of our section 113 and stood at the counter that edges all the seating on the concourse level and enjoyed our meal. The phenomenal part of this whole escapade is that all the beers, whether it be Miller Lite or a craft brew like Yards, are all priced exactly the same. They may be typically steep at $6.75, but at least you can drink quality beer for the same price as swill.


Janet has spoken often about her times at the ballpark, about how she and her friend, Carol, another fan of the World Champion Phillies, know right where to go for the best beers and the foods they enjoy eating at the park and at Chickie's and Pete's. Janet has told me several times about two particular vendors that ply the aisles and as much as the game I was looking forward to seeing these two. One is a dour old man who mumbles something that is not understood. If he did not hold aloft a Crackerjack box, one would never know what he was selling. Another was a squawking Miller Lite guy who wears a fake parrot on his shoulder and periodically dons an eye patch like some modern privateer. He squawks and yells and well, if you look for the video attached to today's entry, you'll get a better idea of his personal zaniness.



Of course, there was a game too. It turned out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher whose career I've followed since he pitched for the hated Boston Red Sox, was making his second start for the Phillies. While there he was involved in a fight with the Yankees old bench coach, Don Zimmer. Zimmer had charged him when the benches emptied for whatever reason and Pedro tossed the rotund old man to the ground. He was a good pitcher and hated by the Yankees, which was nice that he eventually signed with the equally despised (by Yankee fans) NY Mets. He was with the Mets for a few years and then retired. This was his second game for the Phillies and the place was sold out. In any event he gave up a homer to the first Diamonbacks batter and the second man up reached base. The joint was grumbling a bit, but after that the seasoned pro shut them down for three innings. Then a long rain delay sat him down for the rest of the night. Clouds in the twilight sky turned inky black with slashes of brilliant blue light illuminating their outline. It had been very hot and humid and the wind picked up swirling debris through the stands, cooling us. After the third inning though the grounds crew sprinted out onto the field, though it had not yet begun to rain. We, along with everyone else in the stands, took this as a cue to leave for they obviously knew what was coming. Sure enough, within minutes a torrential rain soaked us, for we were unable to get up the stadium stairs in time because everyone was doing the same thing. Finally reaching shelter we dripped into fresh beers as we watched the sky crackle with lightning and the wind lashed the rain sideways.

A lot of people left, but the rain eventually let up enough to continue the game. Pedro was replaced by Jamie Moyer who shut the D-backs down as the Phillies poured on the runs.... (like the rain reference?) Many people left and we first moved down and over to within a few rows of first base. While there a ball being tossed around between innings whistled by my head. I watched, stupidly, as the thing banged against the empty seats behind me, rolled under my feet and into the aisle in front of us and was grabbed by some woman who just happened to be picking up errant kernels of popcorn from the floor when it plopped into her portly flippers. I didn't react at all, or more importantly, made the right decision to protect my beer!

Eventually we slinked our way down to the dugout, which was almost a big mistake. Had I not tackled the enthusiastic Janet before she clamored onto the Phillies dugout she would surely had sought more than autographs from her favored team! Neither of us had ever been this close to the field and we cheered the team on for the final 2 innings from this precious perch. It was a great night, even if a "Bull Dog" grilled kielbasa we shared during the rain delay wanted to come back and visit us in the middle of the night....

Update: This Sunday the Phillies ended a game with the New York Mets with an unassisted Triple Play. The last time this happened was in 1927 and only the second time it had ever happened in major league play. The runners were moving with the pitch and second baseman, Eric Bruntlett, (filling in for the resting Chase Utley) caught a line drive, stepped on second and tagged out the advancing runner from first.

We had gone to Brother Paul's, an Eagleville tavern with a very nice selection of beers for some wings and beer, where we had caught this unlikely event. Serendipity and chance are powerful things, for we were out galavanting around when I offered to buy Janet an afternoon libation and the old stone bar was the nearest joint. Good fortune seems to follow us around!