Stan Hochman | There's always room for memories

IF THERE'S a tripleplay today, Len Caprisecca will see it when it happens, watch it again two or three times on the big ballpark screen, and watch it again on Comcast SportsNet

tonight.

Caprisecca's name was drawn from the stack of 261 Bandwagon riders and he won two tickets to today's opening game, which triggered memories of the first Phillies game he ever saw.

"Rode a bus, with kids from the neighborhood," he recalled. "I was 8 or 9. Gene Green hit a grand-slam homer off Curt

Simmons. And then, there was a tripleplay. You know how kids can be looking around, head on a swivel. Well, I missed it. And they didn't have replay screens at Connie Mack Stadium in those days.

"Second game I ever saw, with a church group, Stan Lopata hit a game-winning homer and the next 2 weeks, every kid in the neighborhood was hitting from a crouch."

Caprisecca's entry in the first search for loyal fans to ride a Bandwagon this season was typical: fan since 1957, loves the Phillies win or lose, excited about this season. He's a probation officer, at least for another week.

"I'm retiring," he said. "I'm 58. And then I'm opening a Primo Hoagies franchise. I guess I ought to think about my age."

His winning entry included a note about almost getting tossed from the '93 Bandwagon for asking a question. I can't imagine what would have gotten him tossed, unless it was, "Are we there yet?"

"I asked you who was pitching when Willie Davis stole home near the end of that '64 season," Caprisecca recalled. "It was Morrie Stevens."

There will be no talk of 1964, of Morrie Stevens, of Chico Ruiz, of Bunning-and-Short unless someone chatters about Hamels and Myers and put out the fires.

We had 203 confirmed riders before we offered Opening Day tickets to one lucky entrant. This time we were tougher. Anyone purely angling for free tickets . . . rejected. Anyone who

exceeded the 25-word limit . . . gone. Anyone who forgot to

include hometown and ZIP code . . . zapped.

Wound up with a lot of poetry, some blank verse, some blanker.

Paul Fritz gets to ride because he's a blogger who wrote, "What does it matter if a weak Phillies batter swings and misses to raucous crowd hisses? If I care, am I mad as a hatter?"

Haiku? Geshundheit.

Bob Kopcha rides because he once bought a beer for Dick Allen at Santa Anita and Allen touted him on a filly in the next race that ran dead last.

Sgt. Kevin Kenny can sit anywhere he wants because he spent a year in Iraq. We have a cop, Tom Hyers. We have a former pizza maker, Tom Quirk. We even have a chemistry professor, in case something goes wrong with the ethanol mix we're using for fuel.

And we have the grandson of the woman Richie Ashburn hit twice with foul balls. Uh huh. Hit her once, and then while they were carrying her out, hit her again. Welcome, Preston Roth, and please wear your batting helmet at all times.

Remember the rules: no booing, no booze, no whining, no wine.

Baseball is a marathon, not a sprint, so don't scramble for the nearest exit the first time the Phillies lose three in a row.

There will be two more drawings for free tickets on nights that feature fireworks. Meanwhile, sit back and enjoy the ride. As they say in New Orleans, let the good times roll. *

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