Had the pleasure of attending Game 3 of the World Series in Philadelphia. Also had the pleasure of single-handedly altering the outcome of the Series by simply being present with my Jeter shirt on, albeit under several other layers. Game 3 was rather rainy and cold as you might remember, and it also represented the kickoff of a very intense sporting weekend in Philly (Yanks-Phils on Saturday night, Giants-Eagles Sunday, Yanks-Phils on Sunday night, throw in a Pearl Jam concert and a Flyers game on Saturday and you’ve got yourself quite the 48-hour clusterfuck.) Given the insanity that was engulfing the entire Sports Complex in South Philly, I decided to get to Game 3 about five hours before the first pitch, find parking, and simply enjoy my surroundings. I decided to live-blog it. Below is an account of my time spent roaming the streets of South Philly from 3pm until 8:15pm on Saturday, October 31 – fucking Halloween no less.
3 pm: Exit I-95 south, ramp onto Broad Street, and blow by the Sports Complex. Yes, I knew where I was going. No, I did not expect to have to make a parking decision so quickly. I smell cheesesteak.
3:15 pm: Steady stream of bright orange Mike Richards and Simon Gagne jerseys making their way down Broad Street on the heels of an impressive 6-1 Flyer win. I find a place to park on the corner of Broad and Bigler Streets. I see my first schizophrenic man sitting on a park bench across from my parked car.
3:30 pm: The schizophrenic man tries to sell me an airbrushed “Yank Deez” t-shirt that appears to have been worn by several animals and directs me to the nearest slice of pizza. I like Philly already.
3:57 pm: I walk across a park and immediately walk onto the set of Invincible as ten middle-aged men are at the half of a ridiculously awesome tackle football game. Every one of them was wearing an Utley jersey or a long sleeve, ringer, t-shirt. I want to play, but I know that showcasing the Jeter shirt will lead to certain death. It starts to rain.
4:24 pm: I arrive at “A Pizza Place” somewhere in the neighborhood and eat two slices of cheese while sitting on a stoop. I think about moving to South Philly and how I wouldn’t even need furniture, I’d just sit on stoops all fucking day. It’s so fucking real and awesome there. I leave my trash on the stoop because there was a sign on the door that said: “Just leave trash on stoop, we’ll clean it up.” Can’t make this up.
4:29 pm: I walk by three teenagers who scream “YANKEE FAN” at the top of their lungs. A Chinese dude behind me yells “shut up” and I narrowly escape needing to fight three dudes in high school with a Chinese dude. To be fair, I would have destroyed them. I am large and, when threatened, angry. De. Stroyed. Them.
5:10 pm: Still walking around South Philly, counting pizza places, delis, and nail salons. Everyone walking on the street is dressed up for Halloween, I think. Zombie baseball players, pizza delivery guys dressed as nuns, Jason Werth facial hair stickers for sale two-for-a-dollar on street corners, etc. The baseball game tension is palpable and people are heading to Citizen’s Bank Park en masse; South Broad Street is hopping. I’m looking for a Starbucks but all I can find are “markets” with seats around the 8-hour old coffee that’s available for purchase.
5:48 pm: I make a few phone calls and learn that Tony Luke’s is only 1.6 miles away, Talk of the Town less than a mile. Cheesesteak plotting has begun. I check my car and find three scalpers leaning on it. I hit the alarm on my key, and they are jarred such that they move onto another vehicle a few feet away. The neighborhood Halloween parade has begun. I take a seat and soak it all in.
5:59 pm: It’s Always Sunny Birds of War costume rolls by. Furious text messaging begins.
6:10 pm: First Green Man sighting. I begin calling around for potential places in the areas to find a 2X Green Man outfit. I envision wearing it to Stankonia’s party next weekend.
6:12 pm: Stank gives me the go-ahead.
6:16 pm: I watch a homeless guy piss on a parked car’s windshield. I decide to sit in my car and lock myself in, take a 15 minute nap.
6:21 pm: Three chicks walk by my car and see me sleeping and say “dude, open the windows.” I do, I roll down my windows to see what they want, and they say: “you’ll sleep better with the windows open.” Thanks, ladies. Happy Halloween to you. I go back to sleep with my windows closed. Rain intensifies.
6:50 pm: Wake up, thirsty, walk down the road through the parade to a “market.” Two signs on the door that I stare at for 4-5 minutes because they were gold: 1) “Please, only one child in the store at a time unsupervised,” and 2) “Please do not enter the store with a mask on.” I walk in, grab a Vitamin Water and some Advil, and head back to the car. Rain easing.
7:21 pm: I’m heading into the stadium for the game, pass three more Green Men, one more Bird of War, and a lot of really slutty girls who may or may not have been in costume. South Broad Street is abuzz, the stadium is already rocking.
7:30 pm: I’m in; weather is a factor, hot dog and pretzel are purchased. I find my seat.
7:31 pm – 9:15 pm: I kill two bags of peanuts, watch the rain fall, and pass by a “gang of roving Jason Werths,” by far the best group costume effort of the night. “Jeter Sucks, A-Rod Swallows” t-shirts everywhere. Special thanks to Boston for their efforts in making sure that Phils fans are properly fashioned for this affair.
9:16-10:01 pm: Everyone in the stadium is standing up, ballpark is shaking, and the environment can only be described as a prison riot. I can not believe that I chose to be here for this. Pettitte looks like he has a terminal illness.
10:02 pm – 12:15 am: Hamels is killed by the fans, A-Rod hits the camera in right, Pettitte settles in, Brett Myers comes in the game, and Jason Werth hits two balls a combined 900 feet. The roving Werths react with typical Philly restraint.
12:16 am – 1:30 am: The Phillie Phanatic has the worst timing in the world as he drags out a Michael Jackson impersonator to perform for both the 7th and 8th inning. I do not have the words to properly describe what it was like listening to the fans respond to this in light of their eventual loss. It was downright dangerous for the MJ impersonator to be on the field.
2:09 am: Tony Luke’s becomes a reality. Eagles fans already tail-gating in the parking lot in preparation for the 1 pm game later in the day. Cole Hamels makes a terribly ill-advised comment about wanting the season “to be over” and everyone on the streets who hears this responds by punching anyone within five feet. Halloween parade still happening near my car albeit with a slightly more inebriated group of participants.
2:46 am: I find a Days Inn nearby and immediately recognize that this was a bad decision. Let’s just say, you get what you pay for.
