City of Brotherly Love

William Penn founded Philadelphia on the Quaker principles of tolerance and pacifism, but none of that was in evidence in recent years when tour buses from Philly disgorged drunk Phillies fans into Nationals stadium to loot and pillage while the Phils abused the Nats on the field. Dark days. Although the Nats are now atop the National League East and the Phililies are constantly rebuilding, we were not expecting any different behavior from those heirs of William Penn who make it to their local ballpark when we arrived in town on Friday.

In fact we didn't really want to be in Philadelphia at all, but I wanted to go to a ball game for my 50th, and that's where the Nats were playing. (The Royals were way away in Oakland, a little ambitious for a weekend trip.) But we figured, hey, it's only two hours up I-95, we can take in the historical sites and other local whatever, and when those barbarians start throwing stadium cups at us, stadium security is only a phone call away.

So we were shocked when, within minutes of leaving our car for a walk through the historic district, bundled up in Nats hats and jackets, a guy in a Phillies cap wished us good luck at the game. The Last Quaker, perhaps. Then at the game, as the Nats rang up five runs in the first inning, and we tried (a little) to cheer with dignity and restraint, the dad behind us not only remained pacifist but even apologized for the state of his team. It is true that he was not actually representative. He was not from Philly, but rather Harrisburg, and his partisan sons accused him of being a traitor.  I can easily imagine them in Nats park in a few years, when fortunes have reversed again, and the Phillies fans revert to norm.

They did give Bryce Harper and Jayson Werth a hard time on Friday, per local custom, but even that verbal abuse seemed a little half-hearted. And as for us,  we encountered nothing but brotherly love in Philadelphia.  That was in addition to a 9-1 Nats victory, a truly excellent hot dog condiment stand (with spicy mustard and banana peppers), and seats nearly on top of the dugout, close enough to be a part of Dusty Baker's ever-loving groove. In addition to all that, the girls each snagged a baseball, Emma got Dusty's autograph on her cap, and the Nationals' TV network broadcast us (for a few seconds, anyway) as examples of loyal fans who braved the trip up I-95 to stand by our Nats (which is actually not so hard when they are winning and the Phils' fans are behaving themselves.)  No better birthday.