It’s Not Obsession – It’s Enthusiasm


055.JPG Back when the home of the Philadelphia Phillies was Veterans Stadium, when general admission tickets were just five dollars, when you could bring a can of Maxwell House Coffee to the ticket office and get a free 200-level seat, when the roster consisted of Terry Mulholland, Darren Daulton, Lenny Dykstra & John Kruk, I was a little girl that was packing a cooler with water and sandwiches to bring to the games at least once a week with her dad. I remember where I was sitting when I watched the 1993 World Series come to a screeching halt and I spent more than one game in the yellow seats next to the Phan-O-Vision with my grandfather. I remember getting ticket stubs signed by Mickey Morandini and my grandmother and I wearing matching Scott Rolen t-shirts to Sunday games spent in section 236. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I sat and watched a stunning 7-run bottom of the ninth comeback win by the Phightins in ’98 capped off by a Mike Lieberthal 3-run home run. I remember pushing my way to the front of a group of boys to get Ricky Bottalico’s autograph before a game and a few hours later watching a bench and bullpen clearing fight between him and Barry Bonds (click here for a brief recount). I remember staring at the pile of rubble on Broad Street and walking into the shiny new Citizens Bank Park for the first time recognizing it was time to make some new memories.

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