Thursday, October 30, 2008


Tug McGraw stood tall on the mound as he raised his arms toward the heavens 28 years ago.

Brad Lidge fell to his knees.

There is no one way to celebrate the final out of a World Series championship, but in Philadelphia, a city that has seen its baseball team win just two of these in 126 years, each one is a beautiful sight.

Today is a great day to be a Philadelphian. Everyone is happy. And in Philadelphia, that doesn't happen very often. Because for this city that pelts Santa with snowballs, winning the World Series is better than Christmas. Way better. Last I checked, I didn't see anyone uprooting street signs or, um, setting setting fires on Broad Street or, er, looting luggage stores or, yea, flipping cars on Christmas. So yea.

And since we haven't won the World Series since 1980, last night's victory is making everyone who was alive in 1980 a bit nostalgic. Which I love, even though I wasn't. Alive, that is. But I don't love anything as much as this:
And do I even need to say it?

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