With Lee, the thrill is back

They stood as one, caps and hoodies as red as their overflowing hearts, and cheered for Cliff Lee.

It was almost certainly the first standing ovation in Philadelphia history for a player who had just struck out. It was not the only standing ovation for Lee on Saturday night at Citizens Bank Park.

He got one for walking from the bullpen to the dugout, a loud, rollicking roar that started in right-center field and rolled across the ballpark.

He got one for walking out to the mound to pitch the first inning.

He got one for dropping a perfect bunt in the fourth inning. Lee advanced two runners, both of whom scored on a base hit, but the fans reacted as if he had driven the ball into Ashburn Alley.

Of course, none of the ovations was for bunting, or striking out, or strolling into the game. This was really about saying thank you, thank you, thank you to Cool Hand Cliff for choosing to return to the Phillies as a free agent in December.

"I gave myself a second, walking in, to notice that," Lee said. "These fans have the knack for getting a little louder than anybody else. I don't know what it is. I don't know if it's alcohol-induced or what. They definitely have a knack for supporting their team, which is good."

This overflowing affection had been dammed up since the 2009 World Series. Before the fans had a chance to show appreciation for Lee's performance against the New York Yankees, he was gone. Inexplicably and shockingly gone.

And then, a year later, he was back. Inexplicably and shockingly back in red pinstripes. Lee chose the Phillies over the richest franchise in baseball, and this city belonged to him.

Charlie Manuel, whose club includes two National League MVPs, several heroes of the 2008 championship team, and a Cy Young Award winner who pitched a perfect game last year, couldn't use a public restroom without someone asking him about Lee.

"At Wegmans, at Whole Foods," said Manuel, who evidently spent much of the offseason stocking up on groceries. "Everywhere I go - I could be in Winter Haven, I could be in Clearwater, I could be in L.A. If anybody knows me, that's the first thing they'd ask me. How do you think Cliff Lee is going to do this year?"

For lifelong Philadelphians of a certain age, this phenomenon is both easier to understand and harder to believe.

It's easy if you spent years watching timid pitchers nibble at the edges of the strike zone, walking batters who inevitably came around to score. Lee, like his fellow aces, pitches exactly the way you wished all those frustrating, forgettable guys did. He works fast, he throws strikes, and he is unafraid.

"I have more expectations for myself than anyone has for me," Lee said. "For people to have expectations of me, they're on the same page I am."

It's hard for the obvious reasons. The fans here are known for making noise, but not necessarily applause. Standing up isn't uncommon, but usually it's to get a better angle to hurl invective. This is a reputation we're both embarrassed by and, let's be honest, oddly proud of. Jimmy Rollins, who has served honorably here for over a decade, smiled with real affection Friday as he described the fans heckling the team before the ninth inning. On opening day.

And yet here was Lee, talking about how much he wanted to play in front of these very fans. He had experienced the buzz of pitching in front of a packed house every night, of performing for fans who understood the game and didn't need the scoreboard to tell them how to react. He grasped what generations of athletes have not, that all this crazy passion and energy come from the simple desire to cheer for winners.

Lee was fantastic in the 2009 postseason. His performance at Yankee Stadium in the World Series was the stuff of legends, no doubt about it. But it must be said that his stature here also results partly from the timing.

He was with the Phillies for just three months in that first go-around - not long enough to get even a little bit stale. When any player is around long enough, we start picking at the things he doesn't do well rather than enjoying the things he does. Lee was gone before the thrill was gone.

That is why, with Lee's decision to return, this became the most eagerly anticipated season in Philadelphia history. Like Roy Halladay, Lee has shown a knack of his own: for living up to, even exceeding, the hype and the hope he brings with him.

With a ballpark-full inhaling on each windup, Lee struck out 11, walked none, and looked entirely at home. It is what he came back for. The standing ovations were just a nice bonus.