BY HOMER PLATE, Columnist
Chips, floaters and loose bodies- these are all the things that make up a fabo Phillies New Year’s Eve party. On the chip side, I personally like Muncho’s, those things that resemble a giant wart that have been rolled semi flat by the mother of all rolling pins. Take a peek into Camden Karens glass of pop and you will see more floaters than you’ll see in the Delaware Bay the day after Little Niki Scarfo gets out of prison. I keep telling her to keep her tooth in while she’s snackin’ on the pepperoni but you know her, she knows it all. And I shouldn’t even need to explain the loose bodies part of New Year’s Eve. Homer Plate is the Arthur Funzerelli of New Year’s who scores more than Michael Jordan playing against Girls High.
So why am I rambling on about this past New Year’s Eve bash with the Phils? Simple, because there is more news coming out every day about Brad Lidge and J.C. Romero and their varied assortment of chips, floaters and loose bodies that maybe would have made last year’s bitter bull pen pitching pill a bit easier to swallow.
I keep asking myself, why didn’t we know this? There had to have been indicators other than the bases being loaded every time Lidge took the hill. All I ever heard from the so called “experts” was that every other year or so Lidge throws up a clunker. If we had been told that both he and Romero were suffering from random C-F-and LB (I’m not typing out those words again), then we would have a more upbeat look at this upcoming year.
And now that I think about it…..WOW! Last year, the Phils had arguably the best hitting lineup in baseball. And it got BETTER. Not just a little better, but leaps and bounds better. The two hole hasn’t looked this good since…darn, Homer had a monster line to fill in there but I think that might have tossed us into the “You need to change your search filter” of Google . And also consider when Ibanez is up to the plate with two on and one out the pitcher isn’t looking over at the on-deck circle and seeing Pedro over there filing his nails. He’s gonna see the big, wide eyes of Victorino reminding him that there is more hell fire to come.
We are all still a bit shell shocked over the Lee-Halladay deal and that’s fine. I look at it like this. Think of it as Jesus returning to take the believers to heaven for an eternity. I mean come on, your cruisin down I-95 an all of a sudden some dude in a robe with a beard and a stick with a hook on it lands in a big cloud of fog and pronounces I have arrived to take my followers to heaven? I’m not buyin it at first glance. Now perform me a few miracles and I’m all in. Part the Delaware, heal the boils thrust upon me by CC, turn a Mcfish sandwich into 20 Big Macs, you now the deal. So after I’ve had one of those Macs (I wonder if the miracle would include fries?), I bow to the Lord and head up to walk the streets of gold. Holy crap, gold is over a $1,000 bucks an ounce. I hope God had a hedge against the commodity run up or his street’s budget is gonna be a monster.
I think it is gonna take about seven innings on opening day to forget out old Cliffy pooh. When the Phils have scored their 7th run and Roy is cruisin’ along, ahhhhh…what a year this will be. And for all of you peons who sit in cheap seats, you can take a look up into the suites and check out Homer Plate with his chips, floaters and loose bodies (see paragraph one).