Fifteen years ago I was a young buck freshman at the University of Delaware. We all packed into some guy's room in our dorm to watch the Phils take the NLCS from the hated Braves.
Our RA let us run wild for a while to celebrate. We took him up on it, pounding on all the doors in the dorm and then running outside to whoop it up.
What did I do tonight?
Enjoyed Harry the K on the radio coverage, wondered how those two Phillies Phans got seats behind home plate, thanked the heavens that there would be no more Manny talk this post season, quietly savored the victory. Woke up the Missus to let her know the news.
But I'm no less happy, just fifteen years older and a responsible member of society.
Should the Phillies break the 25 year curse in my fair city? That's an entirely different story. With the Eagles doing their usual mind-smashingly best to ruin my winter and the Flyers off to a 0-2-1 start, I can't be responsible for my actions should a parade occur here.
And this post? Finished and saved as a draft at 10:57 p.m. Sweaty might kill me for nearly jinxing the whole thing.
UPDATE: Thanks to The 700 Level you can now enjoy the final out the way it was meant to be...with Harry Kalas and a somehow not as annoying as usual Wheeler:
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