Phillies Nation

I am a Sister of the Holy Family of Nazareth, and I work at Holy Family University.

I believe I qualify as a great Phillies fan, because from 2000 to 2007, I lived in Texas, and I guarantee that I was the only Phillies fan in that great state! I could not listen to the games, of course, but I subscribed to MLB.com and I watched every single game that was not blacked out for me (Houston games). The Sisters all knew when I was having my “holy hour.”

My office here at the University is decorated with Phillies photos, bobble heads, and everything else that my co-workers, who know how much I love the Phillies, have brought in for me. I have my red shirt ready to wear during the World Series games, and my rally towel to wave. I have to add that I really do storm heaven for them during their games!

This past summer Dunkin Donuts held the Cole Hamels promotion where in every Dunkin Donuts they had a life size cut out him and a big poster with him and ice coffee. Cole Hamels is one of my favorite Phillies and I definitely wanted that cut out. Whenever I went into Dunkin Donuts, I always said to myself I need that cut out and poster. Now this is where my journey began.

By the end of July I began cracking jokes to the crazy people who worked there, like “Oh my I love him!! Can I have him?” The crazy people just looked at me like I was insane. They probably just did not understand me. Finally, after begging for my Cole the cashier gave in and told me that on Tuesday morning, he was giving Cole away to the first customer that came. Well, I was determined to be that first customer, so that Tuesday morning my boyfriend and I woke up at 4:30am and drove down to the Dunkin Donuts. As soon as we walked in the cashiers began laughing and slapping their heads and told us, “AHHH! We left it in the truck at home! Come back later today I will have it.” I was so mad. So then I stopped by around 11:00am that same morning and there was a new cashier who I began to tell my story to and she did not understand anything I was saying so she called her dad and handed me the phone. He said for me to come back again the next morning so I agreed and my boyfriend and I woke up again at 4:30am and drove down to Dunkin Donuts for the second time.

So we got there and they played us for fools AGAIN! They told us to come back in a few days because Cole was at another Dunkin Donuts that the same manager owned. This really pissed me off, but I thought of Cole so I agreed to stop in and try again for Cole’s sake. The day that the guy told us to come back was the morning my boyfriend and I were leaving for the shore so it was now or never. As we drove there it was pouring rain and we were so fired up and were determined to leave with Cole because be fought for him and we deserved him.

As soon as we walked in the Dunkin Donuts guys were laughing and acting weird so we were positive that we got punk’d again. That is until Cole came out we went crazy and thanked everyone so much. This was definitely one of my favorite Phillies memories. Since then, whenever we are watching the Phillies we always have Cole by our side. He is like a good luck charm and everybody loves him.

Every since I raced to the door on Sunday mornings on Glenview St. off Roosevelt Boulevard to beat my father to the morning Inquirer when I was just learning to read at Solis Cohen Elementary School, my day hasn’t been complete without a Phillies update. Dad passed on his love of this team to my brother and me, just as a slew of returning WWII vets had done, as the Whiz Kids helped soothe the trauma of that war. He’d tell me tales of sneaking into Shibe park as a boy to watch games with my uncles. His heroes – Ashburn, Roberts, Simmons, Hamner, et al., became my treasured baseball cards that I would buy with my first allowances at the drug store on Tyson and Bustleton.

My zeal for the Phillies was so great, that I committed my only crime at the age of 6. My dad kept a collection of silver dollars in the same drawer in his bedroom chest in which a calendar picture of Marilyn Monroe lay temptingly under some undershirts. Not sure how many dollars I took, but it was enough to buy a whole box of cards- the entire series of Topps baseball cards, circa 1952.

Proudly, the next day, I showed off all the Whiz Kids cards to my Glenview street stick and step ball buddies. But my glee was short lived. I guess the druggist snitched, for my mother called me inside and scared me with a fake call to the Philadelphia police to get me to confess my crime. I returned all of the cards. Ironically I spent many years as a public defender for juveniles. She kept the deed quiet from my dad. His only concern was who was looking at the Marilyn Monroe calendar portrait.

The Phils’ fortunes have bookmarked each day since. No matter where I’ve been, I’ve known before sleep what they had done that day.

I’m not as bitter about 1964 as many fans became over the collapse. Great movie, sad ending. I can remember leaving for Penn State the day Bunning beat the Dodgers to give the Phils a 6 1/2 game lead with just 12 to play. I could barely hear the radio feed up there in Happy Valley, but the Pittsburgh fans that filled West Halls sure let me know the results of those fateful 10 games. I just attended a reunion party with friends from Marple-Newtown’s class of that year, and there was substantial reminiscing about that team and the year of hope turned sour.

When I went to Ft. Bragg, North Carolina in ’69 I listened to static filled accounts on 1210 radio when the sun went down to assuage my homesickness. In 1980 I staged a one man drunken soiree through the streets of Raleigh after McGraw sealed the long awaited title deal.

Last week, 56 years and 500 miles removed from those days on Glenview St, this haggard attorney slumped into Court with the glow of the Phillies pennant somehow blanketing the gloom our current economic troubles. I reflected upon those early days during lulls and doodled lineups from the 50′s on my notepad. Go Phillies. An unbroken umbilical chord to my hometown.

I was destined to be exposed to the virus that infects all Phillies fans by my father I’m sure while I was still in the womb. My earliest memories growing up in the late 1950s are falling asleep to the sound of the Phillies on the radio. The console radio was for some reason kept in my bedroom, and that’s where my dad listened to the games. So…I listened to them too. If he was trying to brainwash me, it worked! I guess he thought that by having an only child who was a girl; brainwashing me was the best way to “grow” a Phillies fan!

When the Phillies transitioned into broadcast TV, so did we. We had only one television (black and white, of course) and if I wanted to watch TV, it was usually the Phillies! I remember that one year our vacation to the Jersey Shore was planned to coincide with taking in a game at Shibe Park. I vividly remember that my dad parked his car in someone’s driveway for the game. I don’t remember who won the game, however!

To be closer to the Phillies, I chose to attend Penn. I attended many games in September and April, enjoying every one. Of course, the Phillies were always as close as my radio and TV. After graduation, I moved to northern New Jersey, and experienced my worst homesickness for the Phillies, not my family! I was glad when they made the playoffs and I could sneak my radio to work to listen to the games.

I returned to Penn in 1980 to obtain my master’s degree. What wonderful timing! I was in Philly for that wonderful World Series winning season. I was in my apartment at 40th & Chestnut Streets when the Phillies announced that World Series tickets would go on sale the following day at 9 AM. I grabbed my sleeping bag, some cash, and headed off on the Market and then Broad Street subways to score some tickets. I slept at the Vet and got some of the last tickets available, on the top row in the outfield (who knew those were bleacher seats without chairs?) and my dad and I had a blast. We were there! At the Phillies World Series! And we saw them win a game! I can also say that thanks to my dad, I was at the parade that ended up at JFK Stadium. He told me I had to go, even though I had class that day. And I went saying – who knows if I’ll ever have another chance to attend another Phillies celebration parade. It was a wonderful decision and one that I never ever regret!

Through the ensuing years, my dad and I have continued our obsession with the Phillies. We watch them through good and bad, through managers that my dad hurls expletives at, and years where we were just so close and years that we were just so bad. We never ever gave up on the Phillies, not even with Mitch and Joe Carter. My dad always says that the Phillies would have never been in the World Series to start with in 1993 if not for Mitch Williams. My dad has forgiven him for that one pitch; me — not so much.

My dad and I have been lucky enough to experience many Phillies moments together in person. We attended one of the Phillies-Oriole World Series debacles in 1993 with the Wheeze Kids. We attended a playoff game against Atlanta in 1993 and a World Series win against the Blue Jays. We were at the All Star game at the Vet. I have taken my dad on Phillies “Road Trips” to see the Phillies play at Wrigley, in Colorado, at Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park, and Oriole Park at Camden Yards always fully dressed head to toe in Phillies gear. Together we attended that magical day at Cooperstown when Michael Jack Schmidt and Richie Ashburn were inducted into the Hall of Fame. We will never forget the “sea of red” and that we were part of it!

Somehow I managed to get tickets for Opening Day of Citizen’s Bank Park. My dad was just recovering from a hospitalization for pneumonia, and was determined to attend. The weather that day was cold and rainy, but off we went anyway at my dad’s insistence. My dad said – “If I die there, it would be OK. I’d be at the Phillies game.” That’s my daddy!! We were the first two people in line to enter at the gate by Ashburn Alley. As we stood in the cold dreary weather, who came out with his entourage but Steve Carlton who was coming out to unveil his statue. My dad literally ran over to Steve Carlton, and said, “I’ve always wanted to shake the hand of a hall of fame pitcher. Congratulations, Mr. Carlton.” I held my breath, but Steve just very nicely said – thank you sir. I’m not quite sure my dad has yet washed that hand!

My dad is now 81 years old, and I thought our chances of attending another Phillies World Series together had passed us by. I have tried all of my connections for tickets to no avail. Then I saw your contest, and hope that you will agree with me that my dad Tom Ziegenfus is the greatest Phillies fan and reward both of us with one more chance to attend one more World Series game together. Thanks for reading our story.

I have no doubt that I am the world’s greatest Philly fan because I have been so since I my father took me to my first baseball game in 1965 when I was 9 years old. My father was born in Lancaster County in 1909 and had been a Philly fan since he was a kid. He was a USN Captain in WWII and traveled the world. He met my mother in Greece and the result was my brother and me.

I grew up in Greece with my divorced mother and went to visit my father for about a month every second summer or so. In ’65 he took me to the above-mentioned game in San Fransisco where he had moved to. The Giants of that era were one of the great teams of the game and my father had become a Giants fan. By chance, or at least I think so, they were playing the Philadelphia Phillies.

I asked him a lot of questions, not understanding the game of baseball. South Philadelphia Navy Hospital was my birthplace and I had had no recollection whatsoever of the city – having moved away when I was less than a year old. Regardless, the Phillies won with an excellent relief appearance by, I think, Jack Baldwin or Baldshun or something.

I was a fan then and 43 years on – I am still a die-hard fan.

What you need to understand is that I did not move to the US until 1974. That did not stop me from listening to whatever game I could on Armed Forces Radio in Greece and later Spain, very few of which were the Phillies. I usually had to read the Stars & Stripes or the Herald Tribune to see the linescore to be able to follow the team.

Through the late 60s and early 70s I followed the Phillies from afar. In 1974 I moved to San Diego and was able to see the team on one of their rare visits to the coast. By the late 70s I was also able to watch them on TV as they became more successful and would be broadcast more often. Then of course the miracle of 1980 and the pennant of 83.

I lived in DC from 84 – 86 at which time I made my way to the Holy Land (at the time Veterans Stadium) to watch the Phillies at home. It was a kind of Hajj. They lost with stars like Rick Schu and Von Hayes. I had even thought that if somebody knew my story it might make an interesting sidebar for the Inquirer. Alas, I met no one except for two girls I suspect were professionals at a downtown bar near my hotel and have never been there since. It did give me a chance to see the town of my birth and the birth of American democracy.

In 1990 I moved back to Greece and remained a loyal fan as always. I followed the deranged “America’s Most Wanted” teams by the Herald Tribune. Armed Forces Radio long gone. Twelve years ago I moved to the Czech Republic. This year I finally was able to watch my first Phillies game in 18 years thanks to the miracle of the internet and mlb.com.

My 10 year-old son is now a Phillies fan though he has never stepped foot in the US, much less Philadelphia. His hero is J-Roll and he wants to play baseball. If nothing else, I have succeeded in passing the torch to another generation. This I have done from afar.

Thank you if you’ve had the patience to read this long-winded story. Obviously, I do not live in Philadelphia and could not attend the game even if I won. I wrote this for myself and because I probably am the biggest Philly fan.

My family and I are obsessed with the Phillies! We all play baseball and it takes over pretty much all of our free time. The Philadelphia Phillies are the best sports team out there and they’re going all the way!!!! We decorated our basement to show our Phillies pride, and my mom is a professional painter, so she painted our house blue and red Phillies! GO PHILLIES!!!

Every Friday from now until Spring Training, we will be posting some of the better contestant stories from our I’m the Biggest Phillies Fan contest. If you think you have what it takes to be featured, but did not get a submission in, you can still share your story by filling out this form.

I think being the biggest Phillies fan is in my genes. Can I say I am the biggest fan? No one may be able to say that compared to my father who has not only brought my sister and I up on the game – but, has supported them through thick and thin since he was a small boy growing up in Philadelphia. He has every ticket stub from every game he has been to…EVER. He can remember the exact picture in his head of his first steps into Connie Mack Stadium. I have grown up knowing the plight of the 1964 Phillies and every time I visit my parents’ house see the “would-have-been” World Series ticket prematurely printed that my Dad bought and framed in black. Can I recite Richie Ashburn’s batting average in whatever year you want? No. But my Dad can and if HE is the biggest Phillies fan, I have to be running in close 2nd from our gene pool!

My journey as a Phillies fan began at the 1980 World Series clincher game in my Mom’s stomach. True I was not born yet, but according to my parents, I was kicking A LOT during the game. My parents have had season tickets as long as I can remember and SO MANY of our family’s favorite memories are baseball/Phillies related. My Dad would take me to game and ensure I had my set of baseball cards to flip through so I knew who was up. The names of Juan Samuel, Von Hayes, Darren Daulton, Lance Parrish, Wally Ritchie and, yes, EVEN Steve Jeltz were ones that I grew up hearing constantly. I was being taught not only THE game but the LOVE of the game by my Dad, in between my snacks that had to be spaced throughout the game in innings so I wouldn’t eat too much cotton candy too quickly!

Another testament to my family’s die hard fan status: the Phanatic made an appearance at my sister’s wedding. My Dad kept saying he had an ace up his sleeve the whole day. They got married on Cinco de Mayo and in BUSTS the Phillie Phanatic complete in his fiesta gear. I think I dropped my margarita in shock! I grabbed his HUGE furry green hand and pulled him into the bridal suite where my sister was and she SCREAMED and started crying as if it was someone coming to tell her she won the lottery! Of course the family got a picture Mexican hat dancing with the Phanatic on the dance floor!

My parents, sister and I had so many memories at The Vet, that the last game there was quite emotional for all of us. To our surprise my Dad submitted a “Vet Memory” to the Daily News and it was selected as one of the best, which he surprised us with, only telling us to pick up the Daily News
(the picture is the collage I ended up making him with his story, definitely a tear jerker, and photos in our last sitting in our timeless season ticket seats that held me from a tiny 3 year old to a grown woman in her mid-twenties!)

However, we were at the 1st game at Citizens Bank Park, the exhibition game even BEFORE opening day, once again, our whole family together. I have no proof of this, except my word and a photo, but we arrived WAY EARLY at 10AM and were told we were the OFFICIAL first drinks served at McFadden’s in the ballpark (that is big Phillies fan status!) We’ve carried our traditions over to this ballpark and the memories continue. My sister and I were at the NL East Division clincher game with faces painted with a glittery Phillies “P”. My sister and I were at Game 1 of the NLDS Series cheering HARD and supporting our guys!

My apartment is decorated with a homemade Phillies wreath that many have asked if I could sell them! Living in center city, I am surrounded by bars, if I can’t make it out to watch, I am THAT fan that opens her window just to yell out and cheer with the bar-goers across the street! I was at a traditional NE Philly lawn party for the NLCS clincher game where a handful of our friends were bundled in sweatshirts watching the game on a TV outside surrounded by the new-fallen crunchy autumn leaves and the smell of October baseball!

Basically, baseball to me is family. It IS Philadelphia. It is nostalgia and memories and excitement. There is nothing better than that!

Every Friday from now until Spring Training, we will be posting some of the better contestant stories from our I’m the Biggest Phillies Fan contest. If you think you have what it takes to be featured, but did not get a submission in, you can still share your story by filling out this form.

The Ultimate Fan and the Ultimate Phan

It has been said that the biggest Phillies fans in the world are made from the same stuff of legend as the players themselves. From tailgating in the parking lot, to gobbling crab fries in the stands, from bathing in red and white, to tattooing an indelible “P” right above their hearts, the ultimate fan steps outside of the universe, grabs, and forever cherishes a special part of history reserved just for them.

But there is another breed of the ultimate fan, one who bears the weight of the world on his shoulders every time Ryan boots a ball, a Phillie strikes out with the tying run on third, or when Flash watches his pitch soar 400 feet farther than he threw it. Surprisingly, this fan does not dread that burden, but rather embraces it. For it is not the onerous load of mutinous rage or the result of fickle responses loved by frontrunners, that charges the ultimate fan’s pain. Rather, it is the weight and care that comes when a family member is in need or when a best friend is on their last legs. This fan understands that the players are not flippantly making errors and giving up home run balls just to spite the millions of Philly Phanatics in existence and so offers enthusiastic support.

In some ways, the ultimate fan sits in the dugout, the bullpen, and the stands even in sleep. Their closeness to the team comes not from outward displays, such as tattoos and body paint, twenty wardrobes of Phillies apparel, or wallpaper made of newspaper clippings, but rather from cherishing the heat of competition, the game of baseball, the beauty of the Bank, every breath taken by every Fightin’ Phillie, and every last drop of energy provided by the city itself and all of its amazing Phans.

I am that ultimate fan and the ultimate Phan. I do not have the tattoos, have never body-painted, and have never even had the opportunity to tailgate. But I do live and breathe with every pitch, every swing, and every shout or scream that comes with the only team that plays with more heart in one inning that any other team can claim in 162 games. Feeding off of the “Spirit of ‘76” expressed in a way that only Philly can, I live to defend my Philadelphia Phillies, version 20.08, with rhetoric, revolutionary action, and extreme devotion from any naysayers and doubters who would slander this great city and team.

In closing, I have only four words, four digits, and a ton of exclamation marks:
GO PHILS!!!!! WORLD SERIES 2008!!!!

Every Friday from now until Spring Training, we will be posting some of the better contestant stories from our I’m the Biggest Phillies Fan contest.  If you think you have what it takes to be featured, but did not get a submission in, you can still share your story by filling out this form.

I live in Chicago for work, but I grew up in the Philadelphia area and have been a die hard Phils fan since I was in elementary school. 3 years ago, in an effort to rally Philly fans together in Chicago, I created a Meetup group in Chicago for Philly fans to get together and watch Phillies and Birds games. It originally began with 3 members and has now grow to over 250.

I negotiated with a Chicago bar to show every Phillies and Eagles game for the past three seasons (through MLB package and NFL Ticket) as well as negotiated with a distributor to import Yuengling beer on a weekly basis. I also organized Philly cheesesteaks (from Jim’s) to be sent to the bar so philly fans can have access to an authentic Philadelphia experience while watching the Phils and Birds. This bar in Chicago has a gigantic Phillies flag and Eagles flag out in front of the bar (Mad River) and we have drawn 200+ fans for each playoff game this season

Additionally, I recently reached out to Don Tollefson at Fox Sports in Philadelphia and he is considering doing a story on this Philly bar that is located 700 miles away from the Bank.

On a personal note, I have not taken off my Phils hat since losing to Colorado last season (with the exception of important work functions). As you can see, in this picture, from last year, I didn’t even take it off for my Halloween costume (the above picture is from after the Phils-Cubs game in Chicago this year in which I attended all 4).

My worst sports moment in my lifetime was Joe Carter’s home run and all I want is an opportunity to see the Fightin’s in the World Series. I’m already going to be in Philly for the weekend to be with my family and friends, so even if I don’t go to the game, I’ll be around the best Phils fans that I know.