The Opening Week Whirlwind

I live for this.

I know it’s baseball’s motto and I know it’s corny and I know it’s cliché. But it couldn’t be more true. Baseball is everything. I was there when Jayson Werth soaked the crowd in champagne. I watched as we dove into October. I walked down Broad Street when we went back to the World Series.

But walking down to Citizens Bank Park the morning of Opening Day, it’s the excitement in the air. The best part is, they’re back.

The boys of summer come around every year and give this city something to cheer for. We paint the town red each year for the anticipation of another glorious season. Hey, in this town, we’ve had enough bad seasons, that we’re going to cherish the good for as long as we can keep them.

Even Phillies broadcaster Tom McCarthy enjoyed the festive atmosphere walking around the park before Opening Day was about to begin, “I think that they’ve been to the World Series with the same core group makes you say, ‘Hey, wait a minute, they could do this.’ So there’s definitely more anticipation.”

And after witnessing Opening Day, I couldn’t wait to go back. Again. And again. And again. I had that anticipation.

Phillies tickets are hard to come by this season. And for a college student on a tight, college-student budget, well, they’re even harder to come by. So when my school decided to shore up 300 tickets for the Opening Night game at Citizens Bank Park, I was sure to jump on it. Well, and keep my mouth shut. (Hey, I didn’t want anyone else getting my tickets!)

I got in line at 9:45am the day the tickets went on sale, and was the second person in line. The box office didn’t open until noon, but I wasn’t leaving without my tickets. Well, long story short, they changed the date, so my friend graciously stood in line the next day to get our tickets. And after her hour and a half in line, we got them.

And boy, was it worth it. We grabbed our hoagies, we hopped on the subway, and marched with the sea of red toward Citizens Bank Park. Walking into the park, everyone’s high-fiving, smiles are huge, and no one can wait for the game to get underway. Sure, it was a little chilly (especially sitting in the nosebleeds), and sure, our “National League Champs” shirts weren’t as cool as the ones that said “World Champs” last year, but it was a ballgame. To be back wearing my Aaron Rowand jersey (yeah, I’m a stickler for the guy) and eating some CrabFries and screaming at the top of my lungs, that’s what it’s all about. The shared experience, the enjoyment, and the excitement.

Baseball’s back for the summer. While I’d love for the Phightin’ Phils to take another World Series, I’m just happy they’re back. Baseball unites a city. Grandfathers watch the games with their grandchildren. It’s the watercooler talk at work. And it’s that timeless game that people will talk about for years to come. So it really doesn’t matter how many homeruns Ryan Howard hits, or how many wins Roy Halladay gets, or even how many World Series we get under our belt. We identify with these players, not just on the field as players, but off the field, as people. We cheer their successes and support their shortcomings, but they hold our passion for the game. The fact that there is a place with such a positive atmosphere like a ballpark makes you forget your worries and just enjoy the game, and share that with 45,000 other people.

Baseball is most certainly back.