Hey, guys. It's me, Citizens Bank. I was hoping we could have a little chat.
You've been spending a lot of time in other parks lately. No, no—don't deny it. It's all over the news, don't embarrass yourself by lying about it. It just makes this all the more painful.
Now, you know I don't care if you want to play in other stadiums. In fact, I've come to expect it. Away games are part of any team's schedule. But... but do you have to like it so much?
"What do I mean?" Do you have to ask?!
Nobody else has less than 15 losses on the road. You guys are 24-10! You can't tell me you're not enjoying it out there, frolicking around on the elderly confines of Dodger Stadium, or slicing and dicing the Marlins in front of their own fans.
Remember when Jamie Moyer got his 250th career win? I don't, because it happened in Washington. Washington!
You must be saving your best stuff for when I'm not around, because 13-22 is no way to treat a stadium.
Do I even matter to you anymore? Because 22 gut-wrenching losses are telling me otherwise.
I've got Kentucky Blue Grass! Do you know how much that costs? Probably a lot! It sounds very fancy!
So, while you take off again to impress another away crowd with your on-the-road skill, I'm left to pick up the pieces. We used to make quite a team, remember?
Why, it wasn't even a year ago we won it all. That World Series trophy was ours, and the next thing I know, you're out there gallivanting like All-Stars all over Citi Field.
I mean for god's sake, Phillies. That place is half my age.
My question is, why? What is it about being somewhere else, anywhere else, that makes your luck change?
Is it the fans? They can chant—well, let's not make promises we know we can't keep. Philly fans are Philly fans, and they're not going to be making any real personality adjustments anytime soon.
Is it Brad Lidge? Is he hurting you?!
I guess we'll be welcoming him back soon enough. Some embarrassing blown saves have made him into that guy who shows up at the party and makes a big entrance, but nobody really cares that he came. In fact, after he crashed the last party, everybody's just hoping this time he doesn't try to sing karaoke and pass out in the punch bowl.
Is it Harry Kalas? The wounds must still be fresh, Phils, but you've got to see what's right in front of you: me. I'm ready to take us to the top again, but we both have to contribute in order for this to work.
We used to have fun together, didn't we? Laughing as the Mets suffered the worst collapse in baseball history, splitting a rain-soaked Game Five into a two night affair... remember when the city of Philadelphia devoured itself alive?
All because of us.
All because of what we accomplished together.
Whatever it is, you need to get yourselves figured out, because I can't go on like this. That game against the Orioles last Sunday made me throw up in my mouth. How many times did you guys pop out in key situations? 20? 30? And that's just Jimmy Rollins.
I am $458 million of brick and mortar; grass and funnel cake. I was voted as having the best ballpark food in baseball. The fans are rowdy, ravenous lunatics fueled by an unwavering sense of loyalty. Obviously, I'm giving all I've got. I can't really change a whole lot; I'm a building. It's on you guys to turn it around.
I need this. We need this. So, I'm asking, nay, pleading with you:
Please. Make yourselves at home.
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