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Dear Phillies,

When you are in town, my heart goes all aflutter. For I know that soon, Nick Markakis will get to theoretically punch you in the face repeatedly. My man Brian Bob will go yard. Da Bad Guy will mess you up thoroughly with his powerful bat.

Phillies, it seems like you knew just when to come along. I was at a low point. I didn't know if I could go on any longer. I didn't know if baseballove was all a ruse, a clever marketing ploy for one to torture oneself further than is at all necessary. For you see, Phillies, I've been hurt. Hurt by the ones I love.

But you show me a new way. You show me that everyone can get a hit, and that the bases can be loaded with Jeff Conine, Markakis and Luis Matos, for the love of pete. Who could imagine such a utopia? Were you a dream, Phillies, with your mystical double header that made the world make sense again? Did I see you as a vision, nothing real but everything that should be?

Either way, I love you, Phillies. Thank you.

Yours sincerely,
Scott