Phillies' long climb from depress to success

U.S. Route 1 famously starts at Mile Marker 0 in Key West, Fla., a map dot where countless tourists over the years have cheesed into the camera to prove to the world that they were there. The mighty Mississippi River begins its long, meandering journey at Lake Itasca, Minn. The first day of spring was March 20.

If only it was that simple to nail down the precise moment when a downtrodden baseball franchise finally bottoms out and begins the ascent that finally culminates in its golden era, the exact spot where its history pivots toward unprecedented, sustained success.

The Phillies won their first World Series in 28 years, and just their second ever, in 2008. But that's not where it started.

When they made the playoffs in 2007, the first of four straight National League East titles, it was their first postseason appearance in 14 years. That wasn't it, either.

In 2001, under first-year manager Larry Bowa, they won 86 games. It was only their second winning season in 15 years. They finished under .500 just once since then. That's as good a starting point for the golden era as any, but the seeds were planted well in advance of that.

Some of the milestones along the way, such as the construction of Citizens Bank Park, are obvious. Some have been more subtle. But to really discover the roots, to find out where it all began, you have to reach back and part the mists of time. You have to talk about the ghosts.

Lee Thomas is retired and living in St. Louis. Mike Arbuckle is a senior adviser for the Kansas City Royals. But in November 1992, then-general manager Thomas hired Arbuckle as the scouting director.

Jimmy Rollins (1996), Chase Utley (2000), Ryan Howard (2001) and Cole Hamels (2002) - a big chunk of the nucleus upon which the current success has been built - were drafted under his watch.

Ed Wade, now general manager of the Houston Astros, replaced Thomas before the 1998 season. And while his stewardship may not be fondly remembered by the general public, the reality is that several bricks were added to the wall while he was on the job. It was Wade, for example, who resisted the temptation to trade the rising young stars for a quick fix; who stuck to his guns and hired Charlie Manuel as manager when the popular choice would have been Jim Leyland; who signed Jim Thome as a free agent. He convinced a reserve outfielder named Ruben Amaro Jr. that he had a future in the front office.

"There's probably some guys who are gone who deserve some credit for where they are now. But it's always that way," said Terry Francona, who has won two world championships with the Red Sox since managing the Phillies from 1997 through 2000. "It's like here. I think Theo [general manager Epstein] has done great, don't get me wrong. But there were guys drafted before we got here, like Kevin Youkilis, who've had a lot to do with what we've accomplished. That's the way it is."

Every story has to start somewhere, though. And this tale's once-upon-a-time moment probably dates back to early 1992 when Phillies chairman Bill Giles, who was then the club president, decided to take a drive down I-95 to see the new baseball pleasure palace in Baltimore. At the time, the Phillies were dickering with the city over a plan to renovate Veterans Stadium. Seeing Oriole Park at Camden Yards for the first time was a game changer.

"As soon as I saw it, I said, 'Philadelphia and the Phillies need a ballpark like this.' So I went to every politician I could find and tried to sell them on the idea of putting up two-thirds of it from public money, city and state," Giles recalled. "I grew up at Crosley Field in Cincinnati. So I had the old-time ballpark in my blood. And then when I saw what Baltimore did, I said, 'We've got to figure out how to do this.' "

Dave Montgomery, who succeeded Giles as team president in June 1997, said the realization that the Vet was outmoded came even earlier than that.

"I can't pinpoint it to an exact period of time but the demise of the Vet became apparent in the late '80s when we had that situation where the concrete in the upper deck was failing to the point that reinforcement bar was seen and you could actually look through to the lower deck," he said.

The biggest problem was bookkeeping. Incredibly, the revenues generated by the Phillies and Eagles went to the city's general fund, while the expense of upkeep came out of the Department of Recreation budget. So the commissioners had to balance spending money on preventive maintenance against the expenses involved with rec centers, swimming pools and softball fields.

"That's when we said, 'The city is going to have trouble ever spending the dollars to keep this up. Maybe we should pursue being the primary tenant and change our relationship to where we would be in a position where we could dictate the capital dollars,' " Montgomery continued. "We would take some of that, but we would change our rent arrangement, we would ask for more concessions, we would ask for an opportunity to participate in parking. And that's where our emphasis was probably until [after Camden Yards opened]."

It wasn't easy. Citizens Bank Park wouldn't open for 12 years. There were times along the way when Giles despaired of ever seeing the project completed, when the dream looked as if it would be chewed up by political infighting. But when it finally came to pass, it made all the difference.

"They're a large-market team and they're acting like it," Francona noted. "Philadelphia probably deserves to have a team like that. When I was [with the Phillies], we weren't there."

In 1992, the Phillies' Opening Day payroll was less than $24 million. In 2003, the last year in the Vet, it was slightly more than $73 million. When Citizens Bank Park opened the following season, it jumped to $93.6 million. This year the combined value of the contracts will be around $170 million.

"The ballpark meant almost the whole difference," Giles said. "We couldn't afford to have this kind of payroll at the Vet."

The revenues that have been generated obviously help. Nobody questions the connection between money and winning ballgames. It allows teams to keep their own stars and to add to the core by signing free agents or trading for players with big contracts.

It also makes it easier when things don't go right. After 1993, the Phillies attempted to keep the magic alive by signing Lenny Dykstra and Darren Daulton to big extensions and by signing Gregg Jefferies. Dykstra and Daulton were injured soon after and Jefferies never lived up to his promise. Those contracts were an albatross for years.

Now, by contrast, the Phillies can admit a mistake by releasing Adam Eaton or Geoff Jenkins with a year to go on their contracts and never look back.

But it still takes wise decisions and a little bit of luck to achieve consistent excellence.

While waiting for the cash to start rolling in, Thomas and Wade walked a thin line. They were supposed to try to win immediately. They weren't supposed to do anything that would undermine the future, though.

Wade remembers having a trade opportunity that would have been hugely popular at the time.

"It's tough. Because you're trying to win, quote-unquote, at all costs, at the big-league level," he said. "The deal that always comes to mind when I talk about stuff like that is Barry Zito. We had a chance to get Zito and I believe the names at the time that [Athletics GM] Billy Beane was talking about were Utley, [Ryan] Madson and [Michael] Bourn. If we had made that deal there would have been a big, short-lived parade in Philadelphia from bringing Barry Zito to town. And then people would have realized that the pieces that went to get a guy like that, the win-now philosophy coming to the forefront, would have really had a tremendous impact on the future of the franchise."

He could have dealt Hamels for a quick-fix solution, too. "It was that old adage, 'You can't rebuild in a place like Philadelphia.' True or not, we never got to a point where we were abandoning a season to try to make it work at the development level," he said. "It was truly a parallel-path kind of thing. Let's not lose sight of the fact we have to win at the big-league level. We've got a fan base that demands it. Transitioning into a new ballpark in the midst of it. But, at the same time, let's not do things that are going to strip away the layers of talent that we think we're building at the minor league level that could sustain success."

At this point, much of the progress the organization was making was largely invisible, hidden away in the recesses of the minor league system. That started to change in 2001 when the fiery Bowa replaced Francona. While his relentless style would eventually wear thin, his high-octane energy helped fuel an 86-76 finish that, modest as it was, represented a tangible step forward. Other than the lightning-in-a-bottle 1993 team, it was the only winning record the Phils had had in a decade-and-a-half. And that meant something.

"If you don't start having winning seasons, you're not going to create a culture in which you can really win," Montgomery pointed out.

More dramatic were the developments of the winter of 2002-03. With the new ballpark steadily rising next door, Wade made a pair of free-agent signings that backed up management's claim that increased revenue would result in increased spending.

David Bell was first and it was significant that the third baseman who had been the heart and soul of a Giants playoff team was willing to accept essentially the same money to relocate to Philadelphia. That was soon overshadowed by the momentous news that Thome, an Indians icon, had agreed to a 6-year, $85 million free-agent contract.

"Thome, from the standpoint of the ownership and management of the club, was a clear indication that the promises that were being made as we finished up at the Vet were sincere. That when the revenues improved in a different situation, that commitment would be there. And it actually happened a year in advance," Wade said.

Thome not only energized the fan base but helped sell naming rights and premium seating at the new park.

"When you're a free agent and you go into a place like Philly and you see the passion and you see the commitment from the organization, you could tell they were very sincere about how they wanted to go about bringing guys in," said Thome, now designated hitter for the Minnesota Twins. "You never really know how it's going to turn out. But I'll say, man, it's turned out pretty darn good for them. And to be a small part of that early, you look back and you go, 'It's pretty neat.'

"No one guy does it. No one guy makes a difference. Let's face it. It takes everybody. It takes a commitment from the organization to say, 'Look, we're going to do this. We're going to commit to this.' And they've done that. They've done a great job at that."

Wade also hired Manuel, who is now destined to become the winningest manager in franchise history, and went a year without an assistant in order to keep the position open for Amaro.

"I'm proud of what Charlie has done. Because I clearly understand the impact of the negativity that existed when I made that decision. I know he wasn't the fan's choice or the media's choice or the people's choice. In all candor, it probably hastened my departure a little bit. But I was tasked with making right decisions," Wade said.

"Ruben's selection as assistant GM wasn't a fan or a media topic. I got some internal criticism from people who felt I'd walked past some guys who were earning their spurs for those types of opportunities by bringing somebody like Ruben in. To see what he's done and the advantage he's taken of the opportunity makes me feel good."

Still, the Phillies never made it to the playoffs with Thome in the lineup. There were several near-misses, notably in 2005. On the last day of the season, the Phillies beat the Nationals. An Astros loss would have put them in a tie for the wild card. The Cubs had the tying run in scoring position in the bottom of the ninth, but Jose Macias lined out to end the game. The winning pitcher for Houston that day was Roy Oswalt and Brad Lidge got the save.

If the Phillies had made it to the postseason that year, Wade might not have been fired. Montgomery conceded as much. But they didn't and he was. Future Hall of Fame executive Pat Gillick, who had previously helped the Blue Jays, Orioles and Mariners reach the playoffs, was quickly hired as his replacement.

"The next milestone was trying to get to postseason. And we were so close," Montgomery said.

One of Gillick's first moves was to trade Thome to the White Sox, even though it meant picking up $22 million of his remaining salary. That not only opened up a spot for Rookie of the Year Ryan Howard to play every day but brought gritty Aaron Rowand in return. Rowand talked the talk in the clubhouse and walked the walk on the field, most memorably going one-on-one with the centerfield fence and getting smoked.

Then, just before the trading deadline, Gillick sent Bobby Abreu to the Yankees for four minor leaguers. At the time it appeared to be a white-flag move, but it altered the clubhouse chemistry by allowing younger players like Rollins, Utley and Shane Victorino to take more active leadership roles as well as buying some payroll flexibility.

Throughout his first season, Gillick remained mum on his feelings about Manuel, who was in the final year of his contract, keeping him dangling as a lame duck for the entire season. Even before the last game he refused to say that the manager would be back.

Keeping the status quo turned out to be a good move, even though that didn't become apparent right away.

Before the 2007 season started, Rollins rankled Mets fans by declaring that the Phillies were "the team to beat" in the division. Since New York had come within a win of advancing to the World Series the year before and since the Phillies hadn't been to the playoffs since 1993 and were coming off a series of close-but-no-cigar finishes, it was at least a gutsy proclamation.

And with 17 games left on the schedule and the Mets holding a seven-game lead, there was every reason to believe that the prediction would boomerang on the Phillies. Except that they went on a tear, winning 13 of their last 17 games. Which wouldn't have mattered except that the Mets, improbably, collapsed, losing 12 of their last 17. The Phillies edged them on the last day of the season and the fortunes of the two franchises have headed in opposite directions ever since.

But what if the Mets had played just .500 and the Phillies, once again, came up short? Would the Phillies have lost that indefinable, intangible right stuff that has served them so well ever since? And, more important, would the Mets have been a sterner opponent over the next couple of seasons or did the hangover from the el foldo linger and impact the next couple of seasons?

Mets third baseman David Wright didn't entirely dismiss the notion. "I can't allow myself to think in that way," he told Marty Noble from MLB.com. " 'What if this?' and 'What if that?' You'll drive yourself crazy. And the game is already hard enough."

Phillies icon Dallas Green, who has been a team president, general manager, manager and farm director in his long career and now serves as a senior adviser for the Phillies, believes that there had to be a carryover.

"They'll say it doesn't matter. But it's like one of my favorite sayings, 'You've got to look in the mirror.' You've got to look in the mirror if you're the Mets and wonder why it happened and how it happened and how you let it get away from you the way it did," he said.

"It has a lasting effect, though. In my mind it does. I mean, I've been on both sides of the fence. I'll give you an example. The 1984 Cubs. We were right there. All we had to do is win one out of three in San Diego [in the best-of-five NLCS to advance to the World Series]. That was probably one of the most disappointing times of my baseball career. And we never recovered from that. The next year, five of our starters broke down. We started falling apart, we didn't have the right guys in place and the minor league system wasn't ready to feed. Lo and behold, the next thing you know, I got fired."

Green also experienced the phenomenon during his playing career. The 1964 Phillies experienced one of the most fabled meltdowns in baseball history, failing to make it to the World Series despite having a 6 1/2-game lead with 12 to play.

"You try to put those kinds of things away because you're professional. Or supposed to be professional and what have you," Green said. "But there's no question: Until you go out and change what happened, it's always a lingering feel. It just has to be. Players will tell you no. Everybody will tell you no. But it lingers."

In 2008, the Phillies had changed what had been happening to them. So it was no real surprise when they won the division again even though they once again trailed the Mets late, down by 3 1/2 with 16 left to play. They went 13-3 and went on to win the World Series. The Mets went 7-9 and went home again.

That success started to feed on itself. Revenues continued to rise. In 2009 the Phillies embarked on a streak of consecutive home sellouts that continues to this day. Management continued to use the money to increase the payroll. Premium pitchers like Roy Halladay and Cliff Lee used every avenue available to them to end up with the Phillies.

How long it can last is anybody's guess. Exactly where it all began is only slightly easier to figure out.