Philitically Incorrect

Now that Bryce Harper swiped right on the Phillies, the acquisition has created more buzz than the electric line that came down in another freaking area snowstorm.  By this time in Philadelphia, two things are evident: Punxsutawney Phil is full of crap and we need a distraction. That's where I come in. Since Harper has monopolized the headlines for weeks, it's time to make this all about me.  This whole ordeal had the makings of a Harlequin romance—tease you for 200 pages but never get you off. Until John Middleton tapped into his inner E.L. James.  I haven’t felt this level of enthusiasm since Hunter Pence crossed the Schuylkill with chicken legs . His signing excited me so, it was the beginning of the end of my contribution to Bleacher Report . Hey,  I did what I did because love came to town . Now I’m hoping Harp’s contract will be the start of something beautiful. I need new fodder and Broad Street is horny for another parade. Bryce Harper Ign...

by Cindy Falteich According to the official Phillies calendar, the season ended on October 3rd. Normally that’s just a guideline for when the season could end if you’re not a Phillies fan. But this year? Well, let’s just say I know how those Mayans feel. Contrary to popular belief, the world didn't end on October 3rd . Actually it’s supposed to end on my birthday this year. How ironic that the one good reason to celebrate me for eternity is the world coming to an end. It also means that the last Phillies game against the Nationals might have been the last Phillies game ever! Maybe this is my last Phillies blog ever! If that’s the case, there’s reason enough for many to celebrate. Especially those crabby guys on Bleacher Report. It also means I have a lot of players to cover. Literally. Where to start? I know where it ended. When the Phils lost any chance of a playoff birth by sucking in Houston.  I tried my best to sit back and enjoy the last nine innings of the year...

by Cindy Falteich There was a sign over my grandma’s stove that read: KISSIN’ WEARS OUT COOKIN’ DON’T Even at a young age, I knew I was in trouble. At five, I’d done neither. Now I do neither well. Speaking of things I do poorly… I’ve been blogging for almost three years.  That’s a year longer than my husband has experienced satisfying sex. Okay, maybe I’m giving myself too much credit. That’s at least two years longer than I thought he’d experience satisfying sex. It’s a sad state of affairs when you have the propensity to do well but your performance has slacked off. In some parts, it’s a common phenomenon known as marriage. In others, it’s the 2012 Phillies.  The team would be set if there was a Viagra for major league baseball players. Well, technically, I guess there is. Just not one that helps them round those bases. As a result, Ruben Amaro, Jr. felt the need to shed payroll. And Shane Victorino and Hunter Pence were sheared like sheep. Before...

by Cindy Falteich Well, the inevitable happened. On August 2nd, 2011, I was censored off the blog site  The Bleacher Report . They said my posts were over the limit on their content criteria and I had failed the limbo with my language. Much like the Game Commission, they were hunting for violators and I’d been tagged. (The blog that started the ending is  here .)  I said,  “ I shouldn't be held responsible. I only did what I did because love came to town." It didn't matter. Obviously relaying my honest intentions regarding the bodies of major league players is immoral, especially when the site has highly intelligent life forms posting articles like ‘Sexy American Wags’ or ‘40 Hottest MLB Wags’ or ‘One Night Stand Wags’ (WAG = Wives and Girlfriends). I mean there’s nothing more offensive than reading the secret thoughts of a middle-aged MILF when guys are secretly stroking in the john with their ‘Wag of the Week.’ Fortunately for you, I’...

Yesterday, my son wanted to go to the Dairy Queen. Since I’m trying to eat healthy, I inquired about the selections they had that didn’t resemble candy. The girl offered me a chocolate covered banana. I said, “That’s it? Don't you have a more phallic desert?” Obviously not. So when she handed the treat my way, one thing crossed my mind: I’ll have to hold this in a way that makes me look like I’m not enjoying it. But there’s no way I can hide my pleasure about the series win in the Bronx. Everyone’s thinking the bat formation in front of Chase Utley’s locker before the Thursday whooping was the series clincher, but I believe there’s only one thing that can cause a change this profound: Charlie Manuel is on performance-enhancing drugs. Of course I’ve alleged that before. But how else do you explain Greg Dobbs getting a hit, Raul Ibanez stealing a base, or the Phils finding a rally without Jimmy Rollins? When’s the last time the team hit back-to-back homers? When’s t...