Well sports widows, it’s official. The Phils have made it to the World Series; but as we head into a weekend that is projected to be completely devoid of Philadelphia baseball, I find myself to be unusually short on sarcasm. Here’s why:
The Phillies’ most important game in 15 years happened on Thursday, and my spouse didn’t see it.
Now I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not because I finally snapped, wrestled him to the ground, tied him up, and forced him to watch season seventeen of Oprah in its entirety – although I wouldn’t put it past me. Rather, he missed the game because I had a family emergency. I didn’t ask or expect him to, but he dropped everything to be there for me.
I have to admit that I was initially shocked by his blatant willingness to miss the game. It was, after all, a big game, the big game, what with the Phils clenching the National League Pennant and securing their spot in the World Series. Yet after having some time to consider the circumstances, I have come to the conclusion that one could expect nothing less from a Philadelphia sports fan.
The true Philadelphia sports fan is one who has had his heart broken again and again, but has never once faltered in his loyalty. This is not a fan who is dazzled by sparkly trophies and championship titles. This is a fan with a deep rooted love for his team – a fan who steadfastly clings to hope despite not having seen real victory in nearly thirty years.
This, sports widows, is the kind of man that you can count on. And ok, sometimes it’s a little frustrating that he can recite
Greg Dobbs’ career RBI stats but has to circle your anniversary in bright red marker on the calendar. But at the end of the day, this is a man who knows the true meaning of devotion.
So give thanks, sports widows. Not only for this beautiful baseball-free weekend, but for that faithful fan in your life.
And don’t worry – there’ll be plenty of time for sarcasm next week.