The Mason Monkey Dreams Impossible

A ton of bricks...
The monkey off the back...
The Impossible Dream...

No More!

Tonight, as Brad Lidge sent Eric Hinske swinging with a slider, I watched the Philadelphia Phillies do something I have never been cognizant of - a major sports championship in the City of Brotherly Love (i.e. The Fertile Crescent of American Democracy, the cradle of American Democracy). In the time it took for an 80+ mile-per-hour pitch to cross the plate - and the subesequent swing and a miss - my life felt unwittingly lighter. I was never old enough to understand the championships of the 1980 Phillies or the 83' Sixers, though I did suffer through the late 80s, the 80s, and the 00s as the Flyers, the Sixers, the Eagles (Iggles), and the Phillies all suffered losses in their respective championship setting. Tonight I drink my fill of that single piece of hardware I have always wanted to see raised by my hometown. I have never felt such pride in my sports; true I have always supported them - to the extent of sadness, frustration, anger, rage, and the occassional glee, but this was the first time I have seen a conquest. The Phillies are the World Series Champs and I am as happy as I have ever been. The step is springier, the aromas smell better, and the world is a bit more colorful - it is akin to getting laid for the first time, but not nearly as awkward (or short lived). I know tommorow brings another day, full of challenges, disappointments, and sports agony (like any Philly fan will acknowledge), but for tonight the pinnacle was finnaly realized.