ROBERT MORBECK

ROBERT MORBECK'S COMPENDIUM OF

VET STADIUM MEMORIES

One of my favorite little quirky things about the Vet which half its visitors never got the chance to see. On the 500 level there was always at least one urinal in each mens' rooms suitable for midgets or small boys. We have plenty of the latter.....

1971-1972- I recently received an updated statement from the Social Security Administration. What does this have to do with the price of eggs in Nebraska? Nothing, except for the fact that the whopping sums of $313 in ‘71 and $277 in ‘72 remunerated to me represent my career shelving books in the Children’s Department of the Westfield Public Library. My cohort in this enterprise was fellow teenager Rich Harris, whose father was either a tremendous baseball fan or inveterate gambler or both. Saturdays we’d leave the library after work and go to Rich’s house to find his dad immersed in three separate Baseball broadcasts. Mr. Harris would be flipping between the Yankees and the Mets on television and had a radio with headsets tuned to pickup distant Phillies broadcast from ……arrgh!…finally…..newly opened Veteran’s Stadium!

From the “I just might have to mention this fact to my kids someday department”- I can tell you EXACTLY how many hours I put in at the library in 1971: THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN, that’s how many! That’s right, ONE DOLLAR PER HOUR! It was lousy even then. Due to my great skills in shelving “Pippi Longstocking” books I think that I received a raise to $1.15 the next year. High living!

1973-1979- I resided in Massachusetts during this period and was almost completely cut off from the glory which I now know as National League Baseball. Being a New Jersey Yankee fan infiltrating the Red Sox Nation I had to learn to outwardly curb my enthusiasm sometimes (such as when Bucky Dent lofted that pop-up over the Green Monster in 1978). We existed totally in an American League frame of mind, although I do remember tuning into the occasional “Game of the Week” broadcasts on Saturdays. I can still feel my anguish over seeing the Vet’s putridly green infield (with only the “sliding areas” cut out; blasphemy!) for the first time.

1980- I first started lurking around the Philadelphia area when my boyhood friend George Ambos moved here in 1980. During this period it sure looked like a “City of Winners” to me. Little did I know! I remember driving through with my mother and father (and George) on a trip home from visiting relatives in Virginia. Pete Rose was about to break the all time hit record and reporters were pestering him for predictions as to the exact date and time he would achieve this milestone.

“If I don’t get it tonight I won’t be jumping off the Walt Whitman Bridge or anything,” he was quoted as saying in his own inimitable way. On our way over “The Brother” my dad kept admonishing me to “Look for Pete! Look for Pete!”.

Summer 1981- I took a long vacation from Theatrix and sped to South Jersey to visit George. But wait! The Insipid Strike of ‘81 was in progress. I’ll never forget seeing a telecast of the Reading Phillies playing my very own Holyoke Millers on Channel 17 in a consolation game for the baseball starved Philadelphia masses. Both sides eventually blinked and our National Pastime resumed sometime in August (I think). George and I attended a “home and home” series of exhibition games between the Phils and the nearby Baltimore Orioles. We went to Memorial Stadium in Baltimore (I still remember drunkenly wisecracking to new Phil’s closer Sparky Lyle) and returned to Philadelphia the next day for MY FIRST VISIT TO THE VET! Unfortunately it was completely unmemorable.

1981- We went to a few more games at the Vet when the season resumed. George had been working as a bartender at “Le Wine Bar” in Philadelphia and one of his frequent customers at the bar during the strike was none other than Phils shortstop (and now manager) Larry Bowa. I’ll never forget one of the oddest catcalls I’ve ever heard at a baseball game (with the possible exception of college friend Phil Milstein’s “The Umpire’s a Sodomist!” taunt at a Holyoke Millers Game) emanating from George’s mouth.

“HEY LAR-REE! HOW ABOUT A LITTLE NOVEAU BEAUJOLAIS?” Hmmmn……Wine humor! I’ll never get it!

BOWA

1982- I started working for Tait Towers in Lancaster, PA so my trips to Philadelphia began to become even more frequent. I started visiting the Vet with a bit more regularity, attending baseball games always being my idea of fun on a night off. I remember one particularly inebriated visit where I was trying to longitudinally traverse a section of seats up in the upper deck without the benefit of an aisle. A foot long plastic shard of cheesy orange seat (600 level?) broke off beneath my feet and sent me sprawling like a drunken ton of bricks.
“NO PROBLEM! NO PROBLEM!” I sloshingly assured my fellow section neighbors, who were obviously concerned about my safety. George tucked the offending piece of plastic into his waistband and later presented it to me with a cheerful “No Problem! No Problem!” sticker affixed to it.

1983- First Major League Play-off Game: I was in town with a day off during the National League Play-offs, Phils vs. the Dodgers. It’s hard to believe now but Philadelphians were so used to winning during this period that tickets were still available “day of” for game 6! I must admit that I wasn’t very impressed with Philadelphia as a baseball town if I could just walk up to the window and plunk my money down for such a momentous event. I sat in the 600 level out in dead center field for an afternoon game in which the Phils beat the Dodgers.

Game 3  at Philadelpha  October 7, 1983

Team       1  2  3    4  5  6    7  8  9    R  H  E
LA         0  0  0    2  0  0    0  0  0    2  4  0
PHI        0  2  1    1  2  0    1  0  X    7  9  1

    Pitchers:
    Welch, Pena (2), Honeycutt (5), Beckwith (5),
    Zachry (7) - LA
    Hudson - PHI

    WP - Hudson  LP - Welch
    HR - Marshall (LA); Matthews (PHI)    Attendance - 53,490

1984- Out on tour- when we came to Philadelphia, we started actually hanging out with some of the Phils. Ozzie Virgil (Jr.) was a big Springsteen fan so he was actually calling me to get him into shows. They gave us some free tickets in return, nice ones right down front one night. I also discovered that much like young men on rock tours young men on professional baseball teams make a beeline to closest bar when they’re done working. We met a bunch of the 1984 team at the bar inside the Stadium Hilton and someone even gave me a Len Matuszek autographed bat which US AIR (Allegheny?) took out of my hands and checked when I tried to carry it (swinging?) down the jet way to get on plane to Pittsburgh.

1984- Sally and I meet and become an “item”. We visit the Vet a few times, inexplicably taking cabs rather than the much more economically friendly Broad St. Subway. On a trip to Pittsburgh I suggest that we take in the Phils/Bucco game at Three Rivers instead of having me meet her parents for the first time. My little delaying ploy meets with total and abject failure, as I am trundled out to Irwin at the very first moment possible.

1984- I take Sally to Wrigley Field in Chicago. She sheepishly admits that it's the first time that she's seen Baseball played on real grass. Horrors!

1985- I’m mostly on the road but come July I touch down long enough to do “Live Aid” on July 13^th and get married on July 20^th. My dream was always to be married between games of a doubleheader at Yankee Stadium but the Unitarian Church in Germantown will have to suffice.

**1985-first Vet Stadium show (ever!) They’ve always used nearby JFK Stadium for big stupid rock shows but finally someone comes to their senses and books Springsteen at the Vet instead of greedily trying to fill the extra 40,000 seats JFK provides. It’s only about a thousand times easier to do shows in a real facility rather than the broken down near electricity-less shell across Zinkoff Blvd (although I must say that I LOVED that place). From the “There’s Always a New Chance to be Humiliated Department: 1985 marks the beginning and the end of my “setting up chairs” career. When there weren’t any electrics to be done at the Springsteen show Dave Reuss had Dave Corbo and I pitch in with the odious task of setting up 10,000 folding chairs out on the plywood covered turf. A few of my friends from the tour stopped by to say hi and couldn’t help but notice the depths to which I had fallen. Oh well, if a job’s worth doing it’s worth doing well………..

**1985- Corbo and I also do a “WHAM!” show that first year at the VET. We hire a guy who comes with a big diamond -tipped drill to cut a hole in the stadium’s bowels to run our feeder cable through. We spend a lot of time down in “Rat World”, the repository of the no longer used auxiliary scoreboard which used to rise out of the 300 level. David and I finally renegotiate and convince the powers-that-be that we should ONLY do electrics from now on.

1986- I get into an argument with our friend Henry at Feathers about the merits of National League Baseball vs. American League Baseball. He calls me a “filthy, disgusting human being” because I prefer the Junior Circuit and I counter with the fact that I had recently been in on helping them to push the concrete pad of the pitcher’s mound up the maintenance ramp. And all that turf! Don’t start arguing Tradition with me, young man!

**1987- We’ve added George Muller and Chris Slemmer to our electrics crew as well as the occasional Danny Kee. My biggest memory of the year was doing David Bowie’s Glass Spider Show down there for what seemed like a very long time. I think the tour was starting in our fair city or something. I got Sally a job “running” and working in the production office that summer. When Bowie came he staged a big media event out on the field, treating the whole crew to various barbequed delicacies. Our friend Sean Gallagher was interviewed by local news hack Sheila Ann Stephens who asked him breathlessly “What’s your favorite part of having a big rock star buying you lunch?”

“The Cole Slaw !” Sean replied emphatically. “The Cole Slaw is REALLY good!”

Whoa, way to go out on a limb, Sean. What he SHOULD have said is that we were all quite used to entertainers buying us lunch and USUALLY it was served up in the air conditioned Press Club on the 400 level rather than on a brutally hot turf ridden field.

1987- The best part of working at the Vet with Sally is getting the chance to call my very own wife on the bullpen phone. I sat in the Phils dugout while she sat in the bullpen eagerly awaiting me to pick up the handset. As I did the phone rang automatically 300 feet away and I got to tell her, “Get Bedrock (Cy Young winner Steve Bedrosian) up! Wow! It’s the “little things” which amuse me greatly……….

**1987-Moisture Fire (almost) Kills Three: I'm doing power for the Madonna show at the Vet while SBP Paul is contractually obligated to stay over at the JFK site for the Grateful Dead. I turn a transformer on and am greeted by a flash of fire and smoke. I call it in on the radio and am assured that "it's only moisture"- turn it back on and let it dry out a little! Any more drying out like that and we'll all be toast. It turned out to be a 480 volt dead short to ground. Spectacular!

1988-I find myself being slowly drawn into the Phillies mystique. Any franchise who is this successful (even if it is being successful at LOSING) certainly merits my attention. I find myself having an extra drink down at Feathers to continue to watch the Fightins’ on PRISM, one of the early “pay TV” channels in town.

**1988-We’re moving a decidedly silly Pink Floyd show in and the Phillies are still in town before they leave for a road trip. They tell us we have uncover the mound temporarily for one of the Phils hurlers (I forget which one)e whether he could make the trip. Chris Slemmer makes a big point of telling manager Nick Leyva that he personally will do ANYTHING possible to insure improvement in the Phils pitching staff this season. Way to help out, Chris…….

**1988-Beware of non baseball fans: (item of only truly technophile interest) - I was running a 250ft cable from a location near the right field foul (fair) pole and home plate for FOH spotlight power. "This cable won't reach!" I exclaim. "Look! There's a sign on the wall that says it's 309 feet from here to there!" "Go ahead and run it anyway" my supervisor suggested. "MAYBE THE SIGN IS WRONG!" Aha, I THINK someone would have noticed that........

1989-I hate to be like this when it comes to dealing with a Philadelphia icon but I couldn't REALLY become a dyed-in-the-red-wool Phillies fan until Mike Schmidt left. I wasn't here for the glory years so my perception of him has always been of an aloof guy who strikes out a lot with the bases loaded. Probably not true but I shed no tears when he left.

**1989- We spend an inordinate amount of time at the stadia when the Rolling Stones "Steel Wheels" tour decides to prep in Philadelphia. It was quite comical when one of the local politicians held a surprise press conference at what he thought would be an abandoned shell of JFK, only to find the area bustling with production types. Big revelation for me was watching Mick J sit in a chair all during rehearsals - most people my age would assume he HAD to run around when he sang all those songs but it seemed like he much preferred just sitting in a chair (as I would). Of course, by the time we moved the show over to the Vet he was his old (or young) self again.......

**1989?-Not sure if this when "The Who" came to town but I still remember being outside the Vet sitting on one of the flat bed trucks with the generators when they did "Won't Get Fooled Again" as an encore. The tremendous surge produced almost woke me up.......

1990-We buy our first 16 game season ticket plan! When I was a kid I would tell any adult within earshot how when I grew up “I WASN’T GOING TO EVER HAVE A WIFE BECAUSE WIVES ARE TOO EXPENSIVE.” The adults all knowingly nodded and smirked. My plan for spending my anticipated fortune? "I'LL BUY SEASON TICKETS TO THE YANKEES INSTEAD!" Well, I'm half right! I'm married AND I have season tickets. To the Phillies! Our seats are in the first row of the upper deck down on the first base line and I truly feel that I have "arrived". Of course right after I make the season ticket payment I receive a dunning letter from the Electric Company threatening to shut the power off in our apartment. Hey, I had to get the money from SOMEWHERE.........

**1990- I stop freelancing but they hire me through Safeguard for a Paul McCartney show. Paul McCartney is a militant vegetarian who somehow still thinks it's okay to wear leather boots. We spent a week of meatless catering but come show time everybody is longing to go up on the concourse and get a yummy ARA hot dog. Watch out, though! Apparently there's a group of people known as the "Meat Police" lurking around trying to catch you!

I also think that this might have been the show that old UMie friend Barry Claxton was in town for- we camped out in the "Official's Room" at the top of the tunnel and Barry pushed a bus cart around. I remember that Chris Slemmer got punched by a Dead head but I'm a little unclear as to the circumstances....I DO recall someone saying, "We'll always remember this night!" and we did.......

7/23/90 -Dickie Thon breaks up a 5-inning no-hitter by Frank Viola with a grand slam--the Phils beat the Mets 7-4. I'm 90% positive we were there......

1991-CRAAA_SHH! People of my generation and older can always tell you EXACTLY what they were doing when John Kennedy was shot (my third grade teacher Mrs. Pierce wrote on the blackboard "Our Country Has No President. He is Dead.") It was much the same when I first learned of the tragic (at least for the Phillies Season) auto accident involving Darren Daulton and Lenny Dykstra out in Lower Merion. I was at the intersection of 52nd and Lancaster in West Philly on my way to Safeguard Lighting in Havertown. I immediately pulled to the side of the road (surprised that everyone else wasn't, too!) and found a pay phone to call Sally. I had to share such a deeply upsetting emotional experience with another human being as soon as possible. The accident pretty much sounded the death knell for the Phils that year, although they still played 162 games anyway.

1991- We were so delighted with watching San Diego transplant John Kruk run the bases that we decided to name our cat after him. As we let Geoff Dickey out the door of our apartment at 2036 Wallace St. one night a beautiful pure bred Siamese cat came in. She's been with us ever since. We first dubbed her "Mrs. Krukker" but she never seemed to answer to it. We soon began to call her "Mrs. Kitty" or just "Mrs." for short (neither of which she answers to either.)

1992-LAST! The '92 team had some serious pitching and injury problems but those of us who spent a lot of time watching them KNEW that they had the makings of something special. The rest of the world was surprised by the pennant winning team of 1993 but we had already seen it coming......

1992-Despite the Phils poor showing this year it seems that they (almost) always win when we're there! Our 16 game plan probably had a record of 13-3 or something -much too much trouble to try to check....

1993- FIRST! "The Enchanted Season". We NEVER thought it would last! The Phillies stormed out to a healthy division lead and never looked back; it was pure heaven! I've read recently that without deep and persistent losing Winning can never truly be sweet. This city was so scarred by the Great Collapse of 1964 that it refused to believe until the last possible moment. Meanwhile we had to battle bigger and bigger crowds at the ballpark and we both began to develop deep resentment against all the "Johnny Come Lately's" who were jumping on our personal bandwagon.

1993- For years our season ticket brochures trumpeted the "chance to buy post season tickets" as a benefit of membership. Yeah, right....And Mrs. Kitty will learn to speak French. But now, It was True! I had hernia surgery in August so my post operative energy level was not what it could be. Sally was working at Methodist Hospital but we both toughed it out and went to a few VERY late NL Championship games versus the Hated Atlanta Braves. Probably my most thrilling baseball moment happened just OUTSIDE the ballpark. We were riding the same old boring Broad St. Subway line which Sally used to get to work every day but our destination on this evening was much more exciting: Broad and Pattison and Game 6! The Phillies had a chance to clinch the pennant with a win that night and the crowd of subterraneans on the train was completely psyched up for it. When we reached the final station stop the doors refused to open for a second but the masses exploded in a simultaneous yell of excitement anyway. Sally must have jumped about two feet, so surprised was she by this spontaneous outburst on her normally staid train.

October 1993-We went inside and took our seats. The only time I've ever actually been present for any of my favorite teams winning anything was way back in 1980 when I and about nine hundred other people witnessed the Holyoke Millers win the Eastern League Title. Major League, it wasn't; McKechnie Field was tremendously marred by a cinder running track traversing the outfield, an issue which later led the Millers to leave the Paper City.

Regardless, we were here tonight! The Phillies took the lead and managed to hold on to it - our fellow patrons were whipped into a frenzy doing sideways "tomahawk chops" to taunt a national television audience of Braves fans. Again, the most exciting moment didn't occur as part of game action (although THAT was pretty exciting). Between the Eighth and Ninth inning the gate opened in Right field and suddenly a contingent of Philadelphia Mounted Patrol and Motorcycle police made their way around the warning track towards a secret holding place located just under the left field foul line stands.

Now it finally seemed real! All it took was another nail biting performance by Phillies closer Mitch "The Wild Thing" Williams in the ninth. I'll never forget the umpire's right hand going up to signal a called third strike on ___________. We were suddenly immersed in a gigantic "love in" between fans and team. My main memory of the Yankee Championship teams of the 60's was that upon vanquishing the enemy they would retreat immediately into the clubhouse never to return (to what was then the light of day).

We also went to a World Series game that year against the Blue Jays but it was a rather unentertaining loss.

8/18/1995- Brad Morbeck arrives in the world. I wonder where he’ll sit….

9/24/95- Bradford H. Morbeck’s FIRST NATIONAL LEAGUE GAME:
Brad attended his first big league game on September 24, 1995 at Veteran's Stadium in Philadelphia, PA. Dennis Springer started for the Phillies and David Wells pitched for the visiting Cincinatti Reds. Wells had a no-hitter going through 6 innings - the Phils eventually lost 6-4. Brad slept the entire game. His parents took him so that in the year 2070 he can say, "I've been watching this team for 75 years and they still don't have any pitching!"

1996-The All-Star Game comes to Philadelphia! We're still hanging onto our tickets so we can take in "the big events". Our family of three attends both FanFest at the Convention Center AND the All Star game workout and Home run contest (won by then Oakland A Mark McGuire). College chum Rick Sullivan made a whirlwind visit to accompany me to the big game, staying in the city just long enough to get his car a little crunched out on the River Drive by an uninsured driver. Local legend Mike Piazza led the Nationals to a 6-0 victory.

April 1997-We're really excited about the 1997 Phillies - they've acquired slugger Danny Tartabull, he of the 27 homeruns for the Chicago Pale Hose (White Sox) last year......

April 1997- OOPS! In the greatest Phillies free agent bust EVER (with apologies to Lance Parrish) Tartabull is hurt and only appears in three more games in his entire career. He walks four times and garners NO hits in his short Phillies' spring career. So much for all our hopes......

May 1997- Busses! Hi. So anyway, Brad and I went down to the stadium Sunday afternoon to watch the second game of the Phillies/Expos doubleheader. Sally was feeling to lousy to go so we went alone. It was the Phanatic's Birthday (we didn't get him anything but he gave Brad a 'Phanatic' Pillowcase anyway) so we shared a hot dog and watched all sorts of stuff going on down on the field between games. The Phillies ended up losing but the most exciting part of the day was still to come. We left about 5:30 (my rules about leaving early have softened a little) and as we were walking out we saw two big MARTZ TRANSIT " Silver Eagles" (The Cadillac of busses). In so much as Brad loves busses more than anything in the world (except maybe 'Me-Mo and Nini' -That's Mingamo and Houdini) we cruised over to take a look. The driver opened the door for us and said, "Do you want to come in?"

Of course we did, and he even let Brad stand on the first two seats. Yippee!

Then the driver let the big news drop.

"If you wait an hour or so, the Montreal Expos will be getting on this bus."

WOW. That's right, we were on the actual bus which would soon whisk the Expos all of 3 miles south to the airport right after the sweeping the doubleheader. Brad cried and struggled as I tried to get him to leave , desperate to wait for Felipe Alou and the boys. But Mommy was cooking a pot roast at home and we had to go.

July 1997- In Which Brad Learns a Colorful New Expression: You might be wondering where a 23-month old would get the chance to learn shameless profanity. The Pool Hall? (A capital T which rhymes with P which stands for Pool). Not likely. Perhaps...........IN HIS PARENT'S CAR????

Sad but true. However, his parents would like to plead "GUILTY WITH AN EXPLANATION" ( it sounds less Spiro Agnew-esq than "Nolo Contendere.")

To explain, a few points of background are offered here for your consideration:

POINT # 1: The 1997 Philadelphia Phillies are really, really rotten. Earlier this spring I sent many of you a hopelessly naive message which cheerfully warned you that "The Phillies won't be as bad as everybody thinks they will be this year." How incredibly wrong I was. Never in my 35+ years of being a diehard baseball fan have I chosen to follow a club quite this inept - a chilling statement considering that I was a big fan of the Horace Clarke era Yankees of the late 60's (PM, Post Mickey)

POINT #2: The 1997 Philadelphia Phillies had a really rotten June. The Fightin' Phils had a record of 4 wins and 22 losses in the month of June. Put your calculator away. That's a winning percentage of .154. As difficult as it may be to believe, June 1997 wasn't the worst month in franchise history. The Phillies, charter members of the National League, boast a long tradition of losing. Based on winning percentage in months of 25 games or more, it was their third worst in franchise history. They were worse in May 1928 when they went 3-22 (.120) and in August 1936, when they went 4-24 (.143).*

POINT #3: The 1997 Phillies have a chance to finish with their worst record ever. The 1941 Phils lost 111 games. The current edition of the squad is on pace to lose somewhere in the vicinity of 115 games. The woeful expansion 1962 Mets' (considered by many to be the worst team ever) mark of 120 losses is not too far out of reach. Now this story can be told in its proper context.

It was the penultimate day of June (my father always enjoyed things which he could characterize as being the penultimate). The Phillies were in the midst of a seven day road trip to Atlanta and Baltimore, pitting them against the best teams of both the National and the American Leagues in rapid succession (Final outcome: Zero wins, Seven losses). I had worked all night out near Harrisburg and Brad, Sally , and I embarked early Sunday afternoon to run our usual Sunday errands. We were out in the car so we took the pregame announcer's standard advice, "Now let's join Harry, Andy, Whitey, and Wheels (Kalas, Musser, Ashburn, Wheeler) for all of the excitement of Phillies Baseball."

As we traveled, a miracle seemed to be occurring. Phillies rookie hurler Scott Ruffcorn (winless in 23 ML appearances) had a no-hitter going through 5 1/3 innings and the Phils led the mighty Braves by a comfortable margin of 5-0. All of the frustrations of a terrible June seemed to be past. Sally has even been heard to remark recently, "This pregnancy wouldn't be so hard if the Phillies were doing a little bit better."

And then it happened: Disaster struck both the Phillies and our happy little family unit. Ruffcorn walked a batter, hit another, and threw a wild pitch over the span of three batters in the bottom of the sixth. He was replaced by the Phillies' equivalent of a white surrender flag, Ron Blazier. Blazier gave up a single to Andruw Jones, setting the stage for ...............Keith Lockhart????

The only Nobody the Braves have proceeded to hit a pinch-hit Grand Slam Home Run (affectionately known as a "Salami" in our household). Tie game, 5-5.

Sally's response was completely appropriate, given the extenuating circumstances and the extreme emotional distress we have both been under lately (Precocious 2 year old, Twins on the way, Bad kitties).

"#&*!*#@%!", she growled sharply. Only she didn't really say, "#&*!*#@%!" The phrase she actually used was a descriptive term concerning the male offspring of a female member of the canine variety. Mommy's venomous pronouncement made a great impression on young Brad Morbeck, age 23 months.

"SUM-MUV-A-BEE, SUM-MUV-A-BEE!" , he sang cheerily for the next 20 minutes or so. We tried to replace it with "Cinders and Ashes!" (Thomas the Tank Engine's favorite obscenity) but this little ploy didn't seem to work very well. Brad had discovered a rich new vein of the English Language and clearly wasn't going to let it go.

*Two sentences liberally plagiarized from Phila Inquirer game story 7/1/97

P.S. -They went on to lose 6-5, of course.

Regards to all, R&S&B+2

9/97-Sally is VERY pregnant with twins. We still go to games but we're more apt to sit at the top of the 300 level in the "handicapped" seats. ALL of the ushers are VERY nice to us - One time I kept re-iterating our standard offer to "move if any REAL handicapped people came" and they essentially told me (in a nice way) to SHUT UP. "YOU worry about HER!" they scolded me. "WE'LL worry about US!" They also gave us a few "14 and under" giveaways purely on the strength and size of Sally's belly.

10/27/97-Ben and Gabe arrive the day after the Marlins win their first World Series

5/4/98- Well, it took these boys 188 days (that's a total of 376 "boy days") but they have finally witnessed a major league contest. The taller Morbecks accompanied the shorter Morbecks down to Veteran's Stadium today for the last game of the Philadelphia Phillies / Houston Astros series. What a coup! Two adult admissions, three(!!!) free giveaway baseball gloves. I'm glad to see that our usurious bank (Mellon PSFS) is wasting it's profits in our direction.

Because we suspect that Ben and Gabe are "mirror image" twins, we got one left handers' glove and one right handers'. Too soon to tell which one will be "sinister" (based on the Latin word for left, Mrs Winquist said). And now the big news: THE PHILS ACTUALLY WON! , breaking a small losing streak of 3 games or so. We all had a good time, especially Brad who clapped and cheered lustily for everything good or bad that happened.

We parked the small boys in a portable playpen which we set up in our same favorite "handicapped" area at the top of the 300 level where Sally spent her pregnancy.

The only thing that upset us was that the Phillies ground into a few "Twin Killings" (double plays). Do they have to call them that? One final confession. We left early. We never leave early. We hate people who leave early. One of us was a little cranky and was unable to get to sleep with all the boo-birds around. The little boys received snazzy certificates with a place to paste their ticket stubs, signed by manager Terry Francona's printing press.

PHILS 5, ASTROS 3.

P.S. Open invitation to all involved: We desperately need some baseball nicknames for these kids. Benjamin and Gabriel are nice names, what with their biblical origins and all, HOWEVER..... They aren't exactly the type of names which strike fear into the opposing pitcher's heart when the bases are loaded late in the game and one of them steps up to the plate. Early leaders in this contest include....

Gabriel "The Rutledge Ripper" Morbeck - for those of you who don't know, we're fleeing the city of losers next month to relocate to the leafy confines of Rutledge, PA.

Benjamin "No Neck" Morbeck - a living tribute to one of my favorite ballplayers from the 60's, Walt "No Neck" Williams (Chicago White Sox). At this point in time, Ben doesn't have much of a neck. He also has an enormous, round head.

5/99- Brad has been very interested in the batting helmets that the Phillies wear lately, especially the part which protects their ears from the 90 mph fastballs hurtling towards them. He chats incessantly about “ear flops” and actually got to try on a helmet over at the Rutledge Girls Softball game we happened upon last week.

5/99-Saturday came and we had a special surprise for Brad - a trip alone with Daddy to travel to Veterans’ Stadium to watch the PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES! Maxwell House Coffee was running a simply fabulous promotion: Bring an unopened can of Maxwell House ($3.49 at the Ridley Pathmark) and receive a free box seat! They were donating all of the coffee to a local charity - I guess the homeless like drinking coffee, too

We loaded up on Phanatic Phranks and found our seats along the third base side. Brad was rather perplexed when the Phillies started a rally in the second inning and 6 familiar (but not to Brad) notes came trumpeting over the PA system, originating from Stadium Organist Paul Richardson’s booth. The crowd shouted in unison. Brad turned to me and asked, “My cousin?”

Now it was my turn to be confused. What the heck was he talking about? As the Fightins’ got another basehit I finally figured it out. Brad had confused the assembled masses shouting, “CHARGE!” as being some sort of long distance curtain call for his beloved cousin “CHARlie!” After I straightened him out, we enjoyed watching starter Randy Wolf baffle those hated Los Angeles Dodgers for a few innings. In the Fourth inning we decided to take our customary stroll around the stadium, choosing as our route the aisle encircling the upper deck. Little could we have guessed the grand excitement which was awaiting us. Deep out in the Left Field “nosebleed” section a group of young people of dubious sobriety don werewolf masks each time Rookie Sensation Randy Wolf pitches, collectively constituting “The WolfPack”. As we walked by some 40 feet below them they started howling and waving at a very excited Brad Morbeck, who insisted on going up to the top of the stands to visit them. More howls and more waves were exchanged, a thoroughly satisfying experience. The Big Question, “Are they just pretending to be Wolves?”]

We left in the 8th inning, with the Phillies and Wolf leading 2-0. I’ve always considered it a point of honor that I NEVER leave ballgames early, but this seems to be another one of those in a long string of behavioral changes which comes with having children. Brad asked to leave, pointing out that, “We’ve been here a VERY long time!” As we were driving home, things fell apart for the Phils but they were later to win in extra innings. Both us were long in our jammies and tucked into our beds by that time, however.

8/99 Things I thought I would have remembered.......

I was working down at the Phillies / Cardinals game last Monday, lighting a live pregame show for the local cable Sports channel. It's only a semi-regular thing, the impetus for all the hoopla in this case being:

1) Noted Philadelphia spurner J.D. Drew's first appearance at Veterans' Stadium, coupled with:

2) Mark McGwire's superhuman pregame batting practice homerun display

It was actually quite enjoyable being right down on the field by the Phillies dugout, watching the MacMan loft ball after ball into the middle reaches of the upper deck in left field, some 450 feet away. Some of the drives were really quite majestic. Brad and Sally were watching at home, which prompted Sally to tell Brad the story of when we went to the All Star Game Workout day in 1996, a prelude to Philadelphia's hosting of the MidSummer Classic. Sally happened to be pushing an 11 month old Bradford in his stroller that day, circumnavigating the stadium in the aisleway just below the "600" level .

She and Brad were just strolling past the left field foul pole, when all of a sudden (then Oakland Athletics) slugger Mark McGwire hit one out in their general direction. Apparently seeing such a mammoth blast from that angle rivaled my view of last week.

Brad Morbeck, in his penultimate week of being Rutledge's Fastest Three Year Old, was very interested to find out that he had already witnessed a bit of Baseball History in his younger, more formative days. So interested, in fact, that the following exchange could be overheard in the Morbeck household last Tuesday night:

Brad: "Was I wearing my glove? Did I catch the ball?"

Daddy: "No, you were only 11 months old!"

Brad: " Are you SURE I wasn't wearing my glove? Are you SURE I didn't catch the ball?"

Daddy: "Okay Brad, maybe you did but I just didn't remember."

2/00-The Three Men I Admire Most…..We’ve just celebrated a really boffo Valentine’s Day. All four Morbecks of the male persuasion paraded into the kitchen carrying single red roses to give to the Chief Object of our Affections. The normally drab kitchen table was adorned with a shockingly beautiful red paper tablecloth, which appeared particularly stunning in the soft glow of the light emanating from two long slender tapered candles. Mommy surprised us with a delightfully tasty heart shaped cake, which we consumed with delicious milk served in red glasses. Small tokens of our mutual esteem for each other were hastily unwrapped, and a good time was had by all.

As a prelude to the big day numerous Valentine’s Day cards were constructed for Brad’s frends and raletions across Rutledge and across the nation. When we were all through making cards I asked Brad whether we had forgotten anyone. He informed me of these three important personages we had somehow omitted:

1)God

2) Santa Claus

3)(Phillies Centerfielder) Doug Glanville

Holy, Holy, Holy! Blessed Trinity?

2000-The Prodigal Son returns.....and he stinks! We're excited that the Phils have signed Andy Ashby, a former Phillies pitcher who has apparently learned to pitch since he left for San Diego a few years ago. But hold on there, Baba Louie! As soon as he's back in the Red Pinstripes he stinks again. 4 and 7 with an ERA of 5.68.

6/00- The horrendous 2000 Philadelphia Phillies TV broadcast (the Phils are horrendous, not the broadcasts -- I have to go back to modifier school) sport digitally superimposed images of various things on the low wall just behind home plate. Last night I looked up to see both Ben and Gabe absolutely captivated by an otherwise routine Interleague contest (I think it was against those hated O’s). Were the “Teletubbies” tonight’s batterymates? No, a rather large Ryder Truck was hovering in a digital netherworld just behind Doug Glanville.

“Wow, THIS is a good game!” Sally exclaimed.

“Truck, Truck!”, the boys replied.

7/00- Newest linguistic triumph for the newest Morbecks: “OOOH - MAHH- DAAAL!” Another in a long line of Phillies pitching staff stiffs, he threw well last night but lost.

7/8/00- Speaking of those Baltimore Oreo(l)s, Brad and I went to see them tonight. After a shaky first inning defensively the Phillies managed to pound the visiting Birds 12-4. We both speculated about the possibility that Mommy was watching us from the comfort of the couch at home. In about the 4th inning I realized that “the cameras” Brad kept referring to were actually the ring of loudspeakers mounted around the top of the stadium’s roof. We watched a tremendous multi-colored twilight scene enveloping Philadelphia and when darkness fell our future Poet in Residence Bradford announced that the deep blue sky “is like a dark blue blanket pulled over us.” How now, Brown Cow. P.S. it was hard, but we stayed till the end!

9/11/00- We ALL went to the Phillies tonight, taking advantage of the fact that the Expos were in town for a twi-night double header. The first game started at 5:05 PM - perfect for us as Sunday afternoons are in the middle of nap time and night games start too late. We saw the first game and stayed until the beginning of the second. On our way out, we went out to the 700 level in left field and visited “The Wolf Pack”. Last year (BHMbig4.wps) I questioned the sobriety of these fine young men. Since then we’ve read they don’t drink while at the game, and they were wonderfully accommodating when we brought Brad out to visit. They urged him to come up and pose with them for a picture, and he even let loose a few practice “howls”. The Phillies won the game we saw 5-2, and Wolf got no decision in the loss in the nightcap. Brad had lots of fun down in the “Virtual Batting Cage”, which had NO line for the first time ever. It was estimated the next day that fewer than 2500 people were there to witness the first game (a rescheduled rain-out from last spring) so we really had the place to ourselves.

4/08/01- Uncle Stan comes up from the southland, we hire a babysitter and the rest of us go to the see the Philadelphia Phillies vs. the Chicago Cubs. We sit way down in row B of the 200 level, close enough to count the whiskers on Pat Burrell’s face. We don’t catch any foul balls but one lady near us gets bonked on the head. Brad devours an order of cotton candy and Charlie takes him down into the concourse to play baseball nintendo. Phillies win 3-1 on Robert Person’s bases clearing double to left. After the game we queue up at the truck ramp and stroll the field, equipped with some revolutionary new artificial surface named “Nexturf”.

5/27/01- John and ME cruise around Old city Philadelphia while we boys go to church. Brad’s been working on his perfect attendance medal for another year at Sunday school and the little boys enjoy the excitement of coloring pictures and singing songs. We come home to prepare for the day’s big event: The (1rst Place!) Philadelphia Phillies vs. the Montreal Expos. We had originally had tickets for “Pat Burrell Bobbing Head Day” last week but switched them for “Ladies Flip Flop Day” this week. Last night’s game was rained out so it was made up as a doubleheader today due to the plethora of Phillies starting pitching (what a change from most years!)

9/01- “He’s a ‘wickin’ cat!” And we love him. Feline celebrity Oreo Senior has taken to licking the boys’ hand when we stop by to visit. The Seniors suspect that it might be a case of faulty eyesight due to advanced age which causes “Rutledge’s Nicest Cat” to occasionally taste our youngsters’ small paws. Oreo scored even more points with us when he sent over complimentary tickets to one of the last Phillies games of this surprising season. Each of us received a handsome red seat cushion on the way in (“Did anyone here order a PIZZA!?”) but the Fightins’ lost on a play where the pitcher neglected to cover first base on innocent looking ground ball to the right side.

4/5/02-Opening Day! Even Gabe has gotten into the spirit. He announced last night that when he was an adult (or at least a “big kid”) that he wants to be a baseball player.

“The first thing you’ll have to do is build me a stadium to play in. You’ll have to buy some bricks to build it. And when you’re finished, Snakey will make sure it’s all done.”

Whoa, I don’t know if I can take having Snakey as a boss.

P.S. Brandon Duckworth pitches a gem and the Phils win 6-2 in front of 50,000+

5/02-As we were watching tonight’s broadcast of the sometimes brilliant, mostly dismal Phillies Brad saw a Fightin’ hit a screamer RIGHT down the right field foul line, even producing a cloud of chalk dust as it made a big hop. “That’s a LINE drive, isn’t it, Dad? That’s why they call it a “LINE” drive!” Well, sort of ..... I guess.

6/30/02- “OR-I-OLES.....OH, OH” We took a major field trip to Baltimore after church today to see our own beloved Philadelphia Phillies battle the O’s at Camden Yards. Despite the massive disinformation campaign being constantly waged by Veteran’s Stadium haters, we sat pretty far away wa-ay up in the third deck (“There’s not a BAD seat in the house, everyone says”). Sally had a good time booing Scott Rolen and we missed an entire chunk of the Phillies comeback effort when we went down to get lunch at “Boog’s Barbecue” (among other nourishment purveyors). I’m REALLY surprised that there’s no audio or video re-inforcement in the picnic area! If I wanted to go on a quiet picnic I’d go to Fort McHenry.

I was amused when my Philadelphia born younger sons asked a rather pertinent question: “WHERE’S THE BELL?”

“HUH?” I reply brilliantly.

“THE BELL. THE BELL OUT.......THERE!” a wildly gesticulating lad asks.

“OHHHH!. The “Liberty” Bell. They don’t have one of those here!”

Regardless, we had a nice time as the Phils won and it really wasn’t THAT far. Brad enjoyed doing a “macarana” type dance along with a video image of the mascot Oriole and I also noticed him jumping on the “Y-M-C-A” bandwagon.

9/10/02- We squeak out one final visit to our local bastion of baseball mediocrity, the Vet.

There’s a twi-night double header today with the Marlins, an excellent opportunity for we early sleepers to catch a weeknight game. We go for the first game only in what would prove to be a doubly disappointing night for the Phils. Randy Wolf is pitching the opener and we boys go out to Deep deep left field to visit phamily phavorites “The Wolf Pack”. Our boys enjoy being photographed with this exuberant band, mistakenly characterized once in these pages as of being of dubious sobriety.

Much like watching “The Changing of the Guard” at Buckingham Palace we see a steady influx of sombreros arrive during the later stages of the first game. The reason: Vincente Padilla is the starter in the nightcap and members of “Padilla’s Flotilla” are gently infiltrating “The Wolf Pack” in anticipation of their hero’s ascension to the mound later this evening.

12/20/02- Boo hoo, Boo hoo; the End of an Era. Longtime family favorite “Doug Granville” (Doug Glanville) is no longer a Phillie! You might remember a few years ago when Brad was making Valentine’s Cards for his many frends and raletions.

“Did we leave anyone out?” I asked innocently.

The three answers I received have become the Holy Triumphvirate in our household for the last number of years: “God........Santa.....Doug Granville!”

4/27/03-Happy Birthday Phillie Phanatic! I've been eyeing this date for months now as a possibly good time to go to our first baseball game of the year. Phanatic "Kid's Club" coupons came in the mail some time ago, entitling B&G&B to reduced admissions and a full slate of mascots are all coming to celebrate.

HOWEVER........sniff.......sniff.......It has come to my attention in recent weeks that today was the day I have to travel to Florida for a week long stint of shows. For years I've been amused by the news media's fascination as to whether the Philadelphia International Airport was functioning properly; I've been saying for a number of flightless years now that it wouldn't matter to me if they re-planted all those runway areas with corn. But now that's all finally changed. We drop the boys off at Sunday School and Sally packs me off on an Air Tran flight to Florida.

Who could have known? Shortly after touch down in Orlando I'm on a courtesy bus to the Hertz Rent-A-Car place and my cell phone rings.

"Millwood has a no hitter going through seven!" Sally breathlessly informs me.

We pick up the rental car and start cruising towards Orlando in an area particularly devoid of any interesting topography. I'm dragged to a Burger King to get lunch and Sally treats me to a customized "play by play" account of the tremendous baseball happenings occurring more than a thousand miles to my north. Ball! Strike! Wild Pitch! I hear Sally describe the ninth inning unfold while Brad and the boys start a noisy barrage of clanging pots and pans (with wooden spoons) in excitement. Two Outs......Fly ball to Center...Ricky Ledee is under it.........HE'S DONE IT! NO HITTER, KEVIN MILLWOOD!!!

The funny part is that now TWO of my favorite baseball moments have come not actually AT or somehow viewing a baseball game. In 1993 both Sally and I jumped about three feet when we were on the Broad Street Subway and the entire train erupted with a roar when the doors opened at Pattison Avenue. And now this one, brought to me through a modern day miracle of telecommunications........

5/11/03- Happy Mother's Day 2003 (continued)! We spend the meaty part of the day attending our first Philadelphia Phillies game of the season. As part of the promotion for "Mothers Appreciation Day" at the Vet Sally receives a handsome tote bag to carry stuff in. We take our usual (more expensive this year) seats up in the "nosebleed" 700 level, an area we treasure both for the price and for paucity of seating neighbors. Everyone actually watches the whole game for a change (our guys are REALLY growing up) and we munch on a succession of imported soft pretzels (from the Prospect Park Wawa) and garishly colored water ices from a new stand on the 500 level. The Fightins' lost to the Astros 10-7, quite an accomplishment considering the fact that at one point they were behind 9-3.

9/19/03- The Phillies start their penultimate three game series at the Vet tonight, and we attend.

"Who are they 'versing'?" is the question buzzing about our small fries. First one to answer (a Griffey less) Cincinnati Reds wins a prize. We're excited as we are again attending a National League Contest virtually FREE! Well, almost....... It's the last designated game for the Hatfield Phillies Franks hotdog promotion so Sally proceeds to take our slimy plastic coupons to the box office and exchange them for General Admission seats in the 700 level. A barely post adolescent hipster in line with her informs her that the cool way to ask for them would be " I would like five G-A's, please."

The game is vastly entertaining for we NL Wild Card crazed fans. The Phils enter the contest one half game behind the Fish and leave half a game ahead. Mike Lieberthal hits two homeruns as Randy Wolf pitches well. Probably one of my most exciting baseball moments (ever!) occurs when almost simultaneously the Phils emerge victorious and a large lighted "F" is posted in the innings column of the out-of-town scoreboard, indicating a Marlins 1-0 loss to the hated Braves in Atlanta. Our boys all receive packs of baseball cards on our way through the gate, including one with an actual scrap of Mike Piazza's uniform embedded in it's glorious plastic coating. What will they think of next?

9/21/03-Our big weekend of spectatorship comes to a close with one last Vet Stadium fling. We pile in the van as soon as we're out of our church clothes and head north (east?) to Broad and Pattison, ever mindful of the possibility of being shut out by Wild Card Fever and interest levels raised by the Vet's soon demise.

When we arrive, we hear some bad news over the loudspeakers: Today's game is SOLD OUT! Brad is near tears and I try to begin to cushion the blow. Meanwhile Sally is in line over at Gate H as there is an announcement that tickets MIGHT become available. She stands in line for about an hour for us and successfully scores five tickets in the 600 level! We're in! We're in! Now we just need the Phils to cooperate. But they don't, losing to the lowly Reds after a woeful afternoon of missed opportunities.

Our trip is not completely in vain, however: we leave with five handsome Vet Stadium "Weplicas" (Replicas), of which we can only find three of a week later. AND lastly......

We have our closest ever encounter with the Phillie Phanatic! The past few years I've managed to snap pictures of Brad with such notable mascots as "Splash" (AC Surf); Finley (Camden Riversharks); Pete the Lighthouse Pirate (Cape May ferry); and "Phil" (Phillies 1970's retro character). And yet when the biggest moment of our lives finally comes I am COMPLETELY camera-less. A scant eight seats away I watch Philadelphia's own Green Monster lock his big furry arms around my eldest son in a warm embrace. I'm not sure if his two foot long tongue came into play or not.

9/24/03- The Phillies Wild Card hopes are melting away like ice cubes in the warm sultry South Florida night. Brad went to bed last night in the bottom of the 6th with his Fluffias well positioned with a three run lead and Kevin Millwood on the mound in the first game of a crucial series with the Marlins. A few walks, a massive Jeff Conine homerun, and a zillion more walks and scratch base hits later the Phils were behind 5-3. Horrors! Brad's first reaction while he was crunching his breakfast cereal while watching the highlights?

"I BOO you, Jeff Conine! I BOO you!"

9/28/03- We boys take a big hike with the Cub Scouts from Swarthmore College to Smedley Park. Barbara Munson thinks of everything - a Springfield Peace Officer was waiting in his squad car when it came time for our party to cross Wallingford Road near Victoria Mills. The Phillies are playing their LAST day at the Vet today. I have no more stomach to watch the game (they lost to the hated Bravos) but I did enjoy the closing ceremonies on TV. Somehow they've gone from being one half game ahead of the Marlins at our triumphant penultimate visit to the Vet a week ago Friday to being FIVE games back. Very disappointing. Brad was rooting for a loss last night so we could actually say we saw the LAST win ever at the big OctoRad.