Phillies championship + Obama's historic victory ... we've been in a stretch of some incredibly historic and exciting moments.
Starting with my beloved Phillies... Brad Lidge's pitch count on Eric Hinske had reached 0-2 at 9:57pm on 10/29/08, and THAT was the very moment I might cherish most of all this. Because, as Philadelphia sports fans, we've been in that moment many, many times before. These are moments on the brink of victory: clouded with uncertainty, drunken with anticipation, and all-in-all, maddeningly frustrating.
THAT was the last time I'll ever be able to say I felt the authentic frustration of being a Philadelphian. Of always coming up short. Of being second to everybody else. Of being cursed by Joe Carter, by Joe Jurevicius, by Shaquille O'Neal, by every New Yorker and Washingtonian that simply passes by our great city on I-95.
THAT was the last time because Brad Lidge's next pitch was strike three. In the words of Angelo Cataldi, in THAT moment, Carter flew out, Jurevicius was tackled, and Shaq was stuffed at the hoop. New Yorkers and Washingtonians and the world, for ONCE, turned their eyes to our great city. The team of 10,000 losses finally won the big one. We were about to throw the party of the century... a collective sigh and celebration of a 25-year pro sports championship drought come to an end. And we certainly didn't disappoint.
After that strike three, my friend Matt and I followed through on our promise to pour some local beer--Yuengling Lager-- on each other's heads as a sort of rite of passage. What else was there to say in such a powerful moment, when all became official and the team and city's championship was won, but to join along with everyone in joyous elation and shout, "We did it! We did it! Holy shit, we did it!!!!"
We proclaimed those words into the night as we stormed out of the bar and on to Broad Street. An entire city came together. Strangers hugged and embraced. People climbed street lights for a better view and champagne continued to spray through the air. Everyone was beautiful and the new feeling of victory flowed through our veins... this was a glimpse of heaven.
Amidst the chaos, I randomly ran into different series of friends throughout the night. Perhaps the most touching moment for me was running into my friend, Brad. He and I grew up watching all the Philly sports teams, and every passing season somehow seemed more disappointing than the last. But this was OUR city's night... this was OUR championship to celebrate... this was so hard to believe... and running into Brad amidst thousands of people only confirmed how truly incredible this time was. What could we do but hug-- amidst the fireworks and sirens and pandemonium-- and savor a moment we never thought we'd see in our lifetimes.
Incredible stuff.
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On to Obama's win... you know, I'll look back on Election Night 2008 and perhaps wish I spent that night in a big, blue city like New York or Philadelphia. But I suppose it was fitting that I spent that night right here in my hometown of Reading, PA.
Aside from the poor, populated center of Reading, I've always known my town to be staunchly conservative and, I'll say it, pretty close-minded. Reading is not a place for dreamers. Reading is a place of yesteryear. A once bustling railroad town turned sour. So, the sight of a promising black candidate rising through the campaign season towards the US Presidency was not particularly welcomed by a lot of people in these suburban parts.
Almost daily, my email box filled with conspiracy theories and racist rhetoric from people in my inner circles. Meanwhile, on the horizon, I knew of an America in the far distances that actually made up the majority... a majority that also saw the promise in this unlikely man for President, Barack Hussein Obama.
So, watching this election unfold amidst hostile territory was an experience I'll never forget.
Thus it was at about 10pm on November 4. Obama had colored the entire distance from the tip of Maine to Minnesota blue. He won Florida. He won Ohio. He won Pennsylvania.
Barack Obama had won the election in a landslide.
In some unusual way-- unusual and uncertain, perhaps, due to the enormous uncertainty looming over any new candidate running for office-- Obama's victory felt much like that Phillies win to me. It felt like a monkey lifted off the back. It was like a beacon in the night that shined through the hills, essentially proclaiming, "America CAN be reborn again." After eight particularly tumultuous, embarrassing, and frustrating years living as an American under the Bush "regime," this was a new, wonderful moment as well. America did, in fact, have it in them to elect a black man to be President, not very long after the civil rights movement of just 30 some years ago.
It was, foremost, a moment of elation for the candidate that I thought was most qualified, ready and appropriate for the role as President. But it was also a victory that embodied the buzz words from Obama's campaign... one full of hope... hopeful for change, hopeful for peace, hopeful for good, honest leadership, and hopeful that we can reclaim all that's good about this country again.
The status quo suffered a horrific defeat that November night. Dreamers and progressives and youthful Americans rised up and celebrated the victory of this figure that can help inspire us to grow America again. We are hopeful of a lot in the next 8 years... an America that no longer shrinks away from the world but works with others in the world... an America that tools up for new industries rather than spiral downward... an America that embraces diversity rather than fight it... an America that facilitates dreams rather than crushes them.
I would like to think that our founding fathers were all smiling down on America once again on that great November night.
