Man, was that fun.
Along with thousands of my Phillies brethren, I made the trek down to the Big Apple and Citi Field for Tuesday night's heavyweight bout between the Fightins and the hated New York Mets - the two contenders in a budding local rivalry that is gaining steam nationally. And that's exactly what the game became: a title fight between not only the teams on the field, but the fans in the stands.
Fortunately for me, there were no literal fights in the 300-level section where my seats were located. But while the teams traded blows in the form of home runs that left the canyon-sized field, one thought stood out in my mind above all others:
Man, is this fun.
You see, Philadelphia has had its fair share of sports rivalries, but none like this one. Sure, we hate the Cowboys. At least in my lifetime, though, the Eagles and Cowboys have rarely been premiere teams at the same point in time - not to mention the fact that the teams only play twice a year, and tickets are hard to come by.
On top of that, Philadelphia fans and Dallas fans could not be any more different - which is part of the reason for the animosity between the two cities. (Speaking of which: why would an historic, East Coast city have a rivalry with a random, Southern business center? It just doesn't make sense).
The Sixers haven't been relevant in eight years and the NHL never recovered from its 2004 lockout, though you couldn't tell in a city full of crazed Flyers fans. So Philadelphia residents haven't been able to look to basketball or hockey for top-notch feuds since the '80s.
That leaves us with the Phillies-Mets rivalry. It amazes me that it didn't happen sooner, with the teams entering their thirtieth year in competition for the NL East title and bad blood already existing between the cities in other sports.
But it came to this: me, now a student in the heart of West Philadelphia - the home of a not-so-storied baseball team to which I've dedicated way too much energy and emotion - sitting among thousands of New Yorkers who've done the same, just for a different team.
I heard obnoxious men of various ages use the word "suck" to describe any Philly-related player or item they could think of (though the chant "cheesesteaks suck" is just plain incorrect). My prized Phillies World Champions hat ended up three rows in front of me after the end of the game - a gripping, 6-5 Amazin's win - due to the antics of one drunken fan in a Mets jersey.
I was treated like an enemy in foreign territory, and I couldn't have had it any other way.
Because as Mets closer Francisco "K-Rod" Rodriguez stood just over 60 feet from vaunted, pinch-hitting slugger Matt Stairs - the count even at 2-2 - it all began to sink in.
Shivering with anxiety, I held my breath as I awaited the ninth-inning delivery from the all-star right-hander to the lefty off the bench - just as I had done on that October 29, 2008 night when all my dreams came true.
But, in the moment, it didn't matter that we had won the '08 World Series and gotten the best of our neighbors up the Turnpike during the last two seasons. For this was a battle in itself, one of eighteen that will take place this year and every year for decades.
And just as I was holding my breath, so too was my NY-born friend-turned-temporary-enemy standing to my right. So too were the 30,000-plus members of the sea of red and blue that littered the stadium on this crisp June night.
The moods of so many people in Citi Field that night would be determined by the next five minutes. As it turned out, a Stairs ground-out was followed by an intense Rodriguez strikeout of Greg Dobbs, and the Philly natives boarded the subway frustrated with their team's performance.
As I quickly exited the stadium, I clashed with dozens of blue-clad fans who attempted to wound my hometown pride. But the encounters I really enjoyed were the ones that involved a simple post-game handshake, as I conceded defeat to my rivals on this night.
"Don't worry, we'll win the next two!" I shouted to any Mets fan who could hear me - one of thousands of Phillies fans thinking the same thing as we made our long journey home.
Brian Kotloff is a rising sophomore from Elkins Park, Pa., and is Sports Editor of The Summer Pennsylvanian. His e-mail address is kotloff@dailypennsylvanian.com
