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Suddenly, the mood went from gloomy to glorious for the Phillies, and flipped the other way for the Dodgers. Sad, right?
"Burrell's a good hitter," Dodgers manager Joe Torre said after the Phils won, 3-2. "He's had a hell of a year. He just stayed with that pitch."
When Burrell's blast went out, two things happened. First, an overeager fan in left field toppled into the flower bed while trying to retrieve the ball. Everyone had a good laugh at that, including the guy who had to be rescued from the mums. He really couldn't have looked happier.
Second, I got a text from a friend in Boston. He's a Red Sox fan, which is one of his many flaws. Naturally, he just couldn't believe the ball had left the yard, and felt compelled to tell me so: "That park is a joke."
There's only one thing better than a Phillies win, and that's a Phillies win that annoys Boston and/or New York fans to the point where they can't control themselves. It just puts a smile on your face.
Burrell: The Bat is coming out of his slump. He cracked a base hit in his first at-bat, then smashed a homer to put the Phils up, 3-2. By the way, Burrell looks a lot like Kirk Gibson when hobbling around the bases. All he needs to add is the arm pump.
Derek Lowe: He started the game pitching like Sandy Koufax. He ended the game pitching like Sandy Duncan.
Cole Hamels: It was a scary beginning for Hamels. But he hung in and gave his club a chance to win. In the league championship series, that's all that matters.
The left-field fans: During a pitching change, the crowd chanted, "Man-ny, Man-ny." Ramirez eventually turned around and motioned at them. It looked like he was trying to shoo away stray cats.
Leading the series, one game to none: It sure beats the alternative.
Playing from behind: The Phils have allowed first-inning runs in three of their five games this postseason. Not good.
Making nice with the enemy: In the third inning, Shane Victorino hit a slow roller, and Lowe ran over to cover first. Lowe got to the bag right before Victorino, then the two collided and tumbled to the ground. Afterward, they smiled and patted each other on the rump. That's what you want to see when the Phils are losing - impromptu love taps.
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If you missed yesterday's Los Angeles Times (what, you don't read it regularly?), sports columnist T.J. Simers had some fun at Philadelphia's expense. Or at least he tried to. Simers, who fancies himself a different type of writer - odd, because a quick check of his column picture reveals no tilted head - hacked out the same tired anti-Philadelphia screed that so many have filed before him.
Jim Murray, he ain't.
His piece - which featured an oh-so-clever "Angryville" dateline - called our town "dingy" and likened the lot of us to unleashed "pit bulls" and "sad clowns." "Even the city's main attraction has a crack in it," Simers wrote.
Zing!
What, no Rocky jabs? No cheesesteak references? No mention of Santa and snowballs? The "Philadelphia is full of slobbering savages" template clearly calls for those elements.
For shame, Simers. If you're going to be lazy and clichéd, you can't half-(rhymes with pass) it. You must press your full backside against the keyboard.
In his defense, Simers works in a city teeming with dispassionate transplants. When catering to the botox crowd, you have to write in broad generalities, lest they furrow their brows in a vain attempt to understand.
Incidentally, when The Big One comes - separating Cali from the mainland and washing it out into the Pacific - you have to wonder whether the citizens there will even notice, or if they'll just apply more sun block and roll over.
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. . . Getting lots of e-mails from people who are ticked off by today's Game 2 start time. I feel for them. My advice: call out or leave early. Or, barring that, fake some sort of heart malady around 3:30. Just get thyself to a television by 4 p.m. . . . Normally, I wouldn't advocate that you read about the Dodgers. Still, I recommend Alyssa Milano's blog (http://alyssa.mlblogs.com/). The content isn't very good, but there are plenty of pictures of her. Also, it's called "Touch 'Em All." Heh . . .
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