Go Big or Go Home: A Phils’ fan behind enemy lines…

Tonight friends, I saw where the enemy sleeps.

In DC for the night- slingin’ some business, living the dream in our Nation’s Capital. Victor was able to hook me up with a ticket for tonight’s game- the Nats and the Mets at the brand spankin’ new Nationals Park. The rub was that I hate both teams. The conudrum then was simple. Who do I cheer for? What’s a Phils’ fan supposed to do so deep in Enemy Terriority?

Cheer for a no contest?
Try and stop the game in the eighth?
Give up and stay at the hotel, totally satisfied because the DaVinci Code is on?

The seats were good, player’s seats. But sittin’ behind home plate was like watching a baseball game sitting on the floor of a T.G.I. Friday’s. It was complete chaos, ushers running from one side to the other side, a big security guard encouraging me to move up because the row I was in- the one I was supposed to be in- was his running aisle, and a dude and his wife and their pet you monkey who was of course, a huge Ryan Zimmerman fan.

There is no denying that Nationals Park is a heck of a ballpark. No way dude, it’s pretty cool. The parking is a little frustrating, but walking through the concourse, it feels exactly like the Bizzare-o version of RFK Stadium, where the Nats had been cellar-dwellling for the past few years. It actually feels a little like Disney World and the people walking by, seemed more like tourists than fans. I had been surprised when the Mets were in Philly a few weeks ago, at how many Mets fans were at the games. Well there were even more at the game tonight- my favorite was the dude in the vintage ’86 Strawberry Mets’ jersey. But there were also a lot of Red Sox fans and some Yankees’ fans and the nasal-voiced dingbat behind me grew up as an A’s fan.

Plenty of Nats’ fans, though. They were mostly all wearing Zimmerman shirts. A pudgy little dude in high-water jeans outside looked pretty stoked in his Lastings Milledge shirt and I couldn’t help but notice a good amount of ladies of all shapes and sizes sporting Nick Johnson shirts.

But then, what was a Phils’ fan supposed to at Nationals Park? There were no Phillies’ shirts to be seen and because Victor had hooked me up with the tickets and because they were players’ tickets, I couldn’t bring myself to wear my Phils’ hat. I thought about when I was looking around for an ATM to pay for parking. But after 20 minutes of looking for an ATM, the only one outside is at the Center Fileld gate – Poor Ryno was parked a few blocks behind homeplate – I said no, couldn’t wear the hat. I would not be that guy. I was already going to be the guy sitting by himself, I would not be the guy sitting by himself in the Phillies’ hat.

I didn’t have the energy.

So Ryno the Phillies fan left after the fifth inning, the Mets leading 3-2. An inning later Cruz of the Nats would hit a Grand Slam. Them’s the breaks for a Phillies fan, no free rides in America. Especially not on weekdays.

Pulling into the HoJo parking lot, I swung the 350 a little too wide- taking out a couple of the stones in the parking lot. These trucks don’t have the best turning radius, I told the security guard who came out to inspect, to see what this crazy bastard from Utah was up too. Apparently the damage was enough to involve paperwork, this frustrated me. It frustrated me more than when I got to the game, and all the lines for food were way too long. It frustrated more than when GPS told me to make all these quick turns and I was like, dude, the turning radius’ on these trucks are not the best! And it frustrated me more than I am right now, watching the DaVinci Code in a dirty HoJo outside of DC.

The dream lives on, the Flyers lost, and I’m glad Citizens Bank Park doesn’t feel like air conditioning. Now get me out of this District before I do any more damage to shotty hotel parking lots!

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