Broad Street Billy: Ya gotta believe it" 'Red Reign' is king

TONIGHT, OUR Red October begins! So keep sending your Phillies family stories and photos to:

NAME THOSE PHILS! Hundreds voted in yesterday's "Nickname the Phillies" poll and, after a 12-hour battle, "Red Reign" (by Brendan O'Malley of Erdenheim) edged out "Ya Gotta Believers!" (by Theresa Clarkson and daughter Michelle of Port Richmond) - by 39 percent to 31 percent of the vote.

Trailing the front-runners were "Charlie's Hustlers," "Red Menace," and "Manuel's Maulers."

BROAD-MUDA TRIANGLE: John Corrado's Phillies passion began when he was a child, when he visited cousins on 65th Street in West Philly while Uncle Sammy sat in a high-back chair, watching the game on his old console TV.

During the Fightin's sizzling September, Corrado, who lives with his Phillies-fan family - wife Melanie, and sons Dean, 7, and Christian, 4 - in Hatfield, Montgomery County, heard broadcaster Tom McCarthy refer to the three stud starters - Roy Halladay, Roy Oswalt, Cole Hamels - as "The Bermuda Triangle."

BOING! Corrado thought: Let's do this thing, Philly style!

Corrado's red "Broad-Muda Triangle" T's are available at:

CHARMING 'P': Alexis Murray, who handcrafts jewelry in Wyndmoor, Montgomery County, has created a silver "P" charm necklace "for stylish Phillies-loving women" available at:

The Oregon-born Alexis said she was converted into a

ya-gotta-believer by husband

Casey Murray, who got a marketing job with the Phils in the early '90s, soon after the two started dating.

"It was his dream job," said Alexis, who lived in Seattle at the time. "And it almost broke us up."'

After two years of long-distance romance, Alexis moved to Philly in time for the '93 World Series - "Kruker! Wild Thing!" she said, sounding like a native - and became a die-hard. Daughters Annika, 9, and Lane, 7, were Fightin's fans from birth.

HOT-DOG HEAVEN: Lifelong die-hard Jane Gallen of Springfield, Delaware County, writes: "One of my favorite Phils memories of the Vet is the hot dog vendor who walked the stands with a steaming metal box slung over his shoulder, calling out, 'Medford Hotdogs! Doggie! Oh, Ho!'

"You'd call back, 'Yo!' raise your hand, hold up fingers for one, two, or three, and he'd say, 'Want mustad on dat, buddy?'

"He'd slap yellow mustard on the soft rolls with a wooden stick and the dogs would be passed down the row, hand over hand, in their warm wax paper wraps, and money would be passed in the other direction.

"Sometimes, 10 pairs of hands might touch your hot dog before you got it, and no one cared or used sanitizer. Thirty years later, in my family, we still say: 'Want mustad on dat, buddy?' "