PHILADELPHIA — Mike Carter, No. 82 not in your Eagles program, reached over the pulled-down hatch, past the television set and beer cooler and yanked out a Phillies jersey.
“Want to take a picture of me changing my shirt?” he asked.
Just before 5 p.m. yesterday in the vast parking lots of the South Philadelphia Sports Complex, it was one down and one to go. Games we mean, not beers.
Carter and his buddies from Havertown, Pa., and brother-in-law from Iowa had parked next to the doomed Spectrum at 8 a.m. and still had more than three hours to kill before first pitch on a day Philadelphia fans were looking to beat not just one New York team, but two. They won the football portion of the program, as the Eagles pounded the Giants, 40-17, but their Phillies lost the second game of the day-night “doubleheader” 7-4 to the Yankees and trail 3-1 in the best-of-seven World Series.
“It’s a marathon, not a sprint,” said Carter, before the Phillies were pushed to the brink of elimination. “Actually, the tailgate for the Giants was really subdued today because I think people were pacing themselves.
“Big game tonight, they want to be able to see the ninth inning.”
About a hundred yards away, there was a young man with a beer in his hand, blood in his eyes, and a gait that suggested he would be challenged just to make it to the first, never mind the ninth. He wanted to know why the guy who introduced himself from the New York Post didn’t have a movie camera.
“Hollywood,” he said. “Limousines. Women.
“I like the Eagles, like the Phillies once in a while when they are in the World Series.
“You want to go to a strip club?”
No question, those who opted for Game 4 would be challenged by the sobriety-challenged.
“We think about that,” said Steve, security person charged with keeping Yankee reliever’s mothers out of the conversations of fans above the visiting bullpen. “If it gets to 6-1 either way . . .”
Then it would become like the Mets were in town. Considering how many drinks had been put away, good thing the Yankees couldn’t put it away last night. Regardless, the City of One Champion (well, at least for one more day) settled for eating, drinking, and being merry about the glorious Giants disaster.
The rout was so complete, said Shane Storm, who drives three hours from Hanover, Pa., for his full Eagles and Sunday Phillies plans, the miserable Giants fans had been driven underground.
“Not many there today,” he said. “Guess they learned over the years not to come.”
“When they do, they don’t get dressed up in their team gear, are kind of in disguise. If you see a guy sitting in a brown coat, it’s probably a Giants fan.”
In Philadelphia, nothing could be considered more sinister than one of those trying to pass himself off as one of them. Two wins over New York a few hundred yards from each other within hours? A day couldn’t have gotten any better than that. Other than the day the Eagles dumped Joe Kuharich, we mean, but the sweep wasn’t meant to be.
“We had the same thing last year for Game 4, but we played the Rams and Devil Rays,” said Carter’s friend Dave Murphy. “It adds a lot when it’s New York.
“Everybody in Philadelphia hates New York, no matter what. To me, it’s a payroll thing. When a guy spends $200 million on a team and it doesn’t win, it’s a little satisfying.”
In other words, follow the money to a guy in a brown coat. That’s how you sniff out New York.