Where were you Halloween night? If you were like me you were all Halloweened out in some outrageous costume at some stokin' party with the scent of sex all over everything and you completely forgot about the Phiilies. Mea culpa. I am one of those people. I didn't forget about the Phillies so much as I took them for granted.
It was 3-zip Phillies when I arrived at the parking garage across from the Sheraton at 16th and Race where jewler homeboy bon vivant Henri David unleashed this year's annual late October indoor Mummer's Parade. To call Henri David's Halloween Ball gay would be, like, "Hello?!" It begins with gay and then it gets all goofy and sincere and ends up almost wholesome. What kind of an event is this to watch the World Series..
In the sixth inning in the northeast corner of the hotel lobby a group of slicks, freaks and Cleopatras gathered around a TV set and glumly watched the Phillies bat, now trailing by two. I suppose I could have stayed and watched the rest of the game. I knew that by walking away and having a good time instead of remaining to watch the entire Phillies game I had doomed my team. It's so easy to see that now. My bad.
By the time you read this the Yankees-Phillies World Series will either be tied at two or unthinkable. Unthinkable being losing last night and trailing 3-1 going into tonight's Game Five. Either way I feel guilty like a Catholic schoolboy. I enjoyed myself. I didn't suffer with my team. I chose to look at bare breasts, occasionally on women. I am so going to hell for this. Unless. . .the Phillies save me. Of course they will. This story ain't over.
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