Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da

PHOOEY

In May, when my hometown Philadelphia Phillies came to Baltimore, I tried rooting for the Orioles. It didn't come naturally, but I wanted to give it a shot. The Orioles were currently in first place while the Phillies already floundered below .500 in the young season. I wasn't shifting my loyalties. I just knew as a lifelong Phillies fan that they weren't going anywhere this year. I thought my energies could be better focused on a first-place team with a shot at the post-season.

Now I know, of course, that my instincts about the Phillies were exactly right. They would be destined for yet another dead-end season. (So would the Orioles. Oops!) But this year was a little different, in that the Phillies were able to hang on and tease their fans for another few months. By August they were back in the race. And until the last day of the season, they were flirting with a late-season miracle.

That miracle never came. Had the season ended at 3:45pm this afternoon, with the Phils leading the Nationals and the Cubs leading the Astros, that miracle might still have happened. But the season ended about an hour later in the usual disappointment.

The Phillies missed a National League Wild Card berth by one game and the Eastern Division by two. That's a pretty narrow margin. So narrow, you could probably identify the single factor that separated this team from it's post-season fate. Which leads me to the question of who to blame? (Or in Philadelphia terms, who to boo the loudest when starting lineups are announced at Opening Day 2006.)

One could easily blame beleaguered reliever Tim Worrell, who blew several games early in the season before taking leave for "personal issues." I have to wonder if his "personal issues" was his own difficulty in confronting his own suckiness.

One could surely blame manager Charlie Manuel. It's always the manager's fault.

One could blame without question thirdbasemen David Bell. On September 7, in the heat of the Wild Card race, with 2 outs in the ninth inning, he booted a routine grounder that would have ended the game. Instead, his error led to the go-ahead run that gave the Houston Astros the win. That one play represented a two-game swing in the standings with the team that would eventually keep them out of the post-season.

But I'm going to blame Bill Dancy. Bill Dancy is the Phils' thirdbase coach. My brother doesn't like him and I don't blame him. First of all, Dancy doesn't wear the uniform well. The pinstripes accentuate the sag in his pants. Secondly, he sucks as a thirdbase coach. He got more runners thrown out at home than any coach since Brady "Shakes" Calhoun for the 1887 New York Metropolitans. Thirdly, he's a good a target as anyone else, I guess. And I'll proudly be the one guy in fans booing him mercilessly next season during the pre-game announcements.

But I guess the only person I should really blame for the disappointment is myself. I should have known better. But come next April, I'll be the same idiot rooting for the Phils. No doubt.

IT'S NOT JUST A GROCERY STORE
On a brighter note, the Hunt Valley Wegmans opened today north of Baltimore. If you're not familiar with Wegmans grocery stores, I have no need for you here. Please leave.

This afternoon, I donned my University of Rochester t-shirt and dug out the Wegmans shoppers card I signed up for as a freshman in college 10 years ago. It hadn't been used since the last millennium. My wife and I hopped in the car and drove to Wegmans for the first time as a married couple (we've been married over four years).

The place was mobbed. And I mean mobbed. You'd think there was a snow storm coming and they were giving away free toilet paper. The store was a gridlock of shopping carts and screaming children. It was heaven. In preparation for the big opening, Wegmans had added hundreds of employees and for the day became one of the largest employers in Maryland.

While walking the oddly-decorated aisles, I overheard one man saying to his wife, "It's not Disney World, it's just a grocery store." Just a grocery store? I quickly spun around and responded, "Go the hell back to Shopper's Food Warehouse, you troglodyte!" Danny Wegman would have been proud

The store was everything we hoped it would be. Great selection. Friendly help. And despite the 14,000 eager shoppers, there was no wait at the checkout. All that, and it's only 15 minutes from home. Welcome to the neighborhood Wegmans. I'm glad you're back in my life.