RED Means EXPECT THE WORST!

So here's the thing. We grew up in the PhillyBurbs. The Phillies were legitimately good in the late '70s. Think present-day Eagles, winning division titles and winning a lot, but never making it to the big dance, and wearing maroon and powder-blue unis.

But they won in 1980. We still remember hopping into our old man's old van and driving around good ol' Newtown, PA honking the horn and cheering wildly. We also remember picking up a hitchhiker (Who does that? At night, even? Ew.) but that's another story for another day.

We remember the Orioles whooping up on some Phillies in 1983. Sure, they had *sweet* uniforms, but they were beating our Phillies. Our old Phillies. Rose was old. Morgan wasn't annoying on commentary. Tony Perez was like 68. But at least they made the World Series.

Then we had a decade of futility, the low-point of which was Mike Schmidt retiring in San Francisco on Memorial Day in 1989. He was our hero. We cried like a li'l baby bitch when he retired, much like we roared when Harry Kalas screamed, "There it goes! Number 500 for Michael Jack Schmidt!" (The high-point).

Then we had 1993, which more and more makes us angry because we believed in several known steroid-abusers who maybe paved the way for other rampant abusers throughout the '90s. However, we've traditionally loved that team because of their "Whatever it Takes" theme and attitude (and because they adopted the Hooters' "Day by Day" as their unofficial theme song).

We were a college freshman when Mitch Williams grooved an inside fastball to Joe Carter. We sat in the hallway of our dorm for the next hour, staring blankly ahead in a pose similar to the one we adopted each time the Eagles came up short earlier this decade.

But we digress. Let's get to the point, shall we?

Something weird if happening in Philly these days. The Phillies have 10 games to play, and there is a very real possibility that they could win the Wild Card. We're doing our best not to get our hopes up too much, but this current group has some key ingredients:

Some of the players seem to actually, you know, want to win (Ryan Howard, Chase Utley, Jeff Conine, Jaime Moyer, Cole Hamels).

Some of the players are young and really, really, hungry (Ryan Howard, Chase Utley and Cole Hamels).

Some of the players can actually pitch a good game. And one of them is young and really, really hungry (Hamels).

We really, really, really hope this season doesn't end the way pretty much every other season in the team's 100-plus-year-losingest-team-ever existence doesn't end with, "Huh. Well, that was pointless."

We didn't even get into Howard, who at this point might be having the cleanest magical season in the history of our sport. We read a stat the other day. Five people have hit more than 60 home runs in baseball ever. Ruth and Maris.

And then, voila, Bonds, McGwire and Sosa. Ech.

We're praying Howard hits 63. And the Phillies win the Wild Card. And we end world hunger and get our troops the f*ck out of Iraq.

Baby steps, y'all. Just sweep the Marlins, fellas.