After Phillies win, anything is possible

I’d spent my whole life waiting for this moment and there was no way 3,000 miles was going to keep me from it.

As a lifelong Philadelphia sports fan, I have not had much to cheer about. I was 4 the last time the Phillies won the World Series. I wasn’t even born the last time the Flyers hoisted Lord Stanley’s Cup. And I was 6 the last time ANY Philadelphia team celebrated with a parade down Broad Street, the 1983 76ers.

Until this past Wednesday, The City of Brotherly Love had gone longer than any other city with four major sports teams without celebrating a championship.

I even had a widget on my desktop that counted the seconds since the last Championship in Philly: the Cheesesteak of Suffering. It was at 9,282 days.

Local lore attributes this to the fact that not long after that Sixer parade, a new building was constructed in Philadelphia, one that would be the first to break a gentleman’s agreement among developers not to build higher than the brim of the hat on the statue of William Penn atop City Hall (about 548 feet, which interestingly enough was the number of home runs hit by the greatest Phillie ever, Mike Schmidt).

It was said that if any building climbed higher than the brim, the city would fall into ruin and the sports teams would never win again.

And they hadn’t. For 25-and-a-half years. It is known as the Curse of Billy Penn.

But that all changed Wednesday evening when Brad Lidge threw one of his filthiest sliders under the swinging bat of Tampa Bay pinch hitter Eric Heinske to end the 2008 World Series in five games.

Standing in my Tacoma apartment, I let out a scream and jumped up and down, tears welling in my eyes and the oddest combination of relief and exhilaration coursing through my body.

The phone rang, a long distance call from Philly, and when I answered it was all noise and screaming on both ends of the phone as a lifetime of futility was washed away.

The city of Philadelphia once again had a champion.

By 3:30 p.m. the next day, my flight was booked: I would attend the parade down Broad Street and the rally at the sports complex in Philadelphia.

I climbed on board a red eye at 11:50 p.m. Thursday and after a layover in Houston landed at the Philadelphia International Airport at 11:30 a.m. Even from the air you could see the sea of red coursing through the city streets.

I cabbed it to my buddy’s place, dropped my luggage and we high-tailed it over to the parade route and then down to the stadium complex for the ceremony.

It was perhaps the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Local officials put the total at 2 million people. We walked the entire route, past people piled about a block deep for the entire 3.5 miles from city hall to the stadiums; a screaming river of red.

And the energy was unbelievable. That many people in the best mood ever, 65 and sunny (oh, yeah) and a world champions parade: You can’t beat that.

The curse had finally been lifted and now anything was possible. I mean, if the Philadelphia Phillies – the losingest franchise in the history of professional sports – could bring home a trophy, literally Anything Is Possible.

Even a parade in Seattle (though obviously not this year) is no longer outside the realm of possibility. The key seems to be identifying the city’s curse and smiting it.

While I was in Philadelphia, I visited the new Comcast Center, which opened last summer. It is the tallest building in the city at 975 feet. Throughout the city, it is well known that when the last beam was hoisted into place, ironworkers attached to the beam a small statue of Penn, like the one on city hall.

By doing so, they once again made William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania and of Philadelphia, the highest thing in the city.

Except on Friday, when the the highest thing in Philadelphia was the two million no-longer-frustrated fans, high-fiving and hugging each other as the trophy went by.

The key, Seattle, is identifying and beating your curse.

And after my experience last week, I hope it happens for you soon because Oct. 31, 2008, may have been the greatest day of my life.