I boycotted the Phillies and saved their season

Or: how to have healthy relationships with things you care about

Me.

On June 2, the Phillies lost a fifth straight game to fall seven games below .500. The skid included a sweep at the hands of the New York Mets, the abhorrent Mets. A self-help social media account told me it’s okay to project my insecurities and frustrations onto things, as long as I’m aware of it, because awareness allows me to level criticism at myself before others do, which makes me less of an asshole. I felt like a failure watching the Phillies fail. I felt betrayed, so I pretended that that failure didn’t matter, didn’t exist, and branded that ignorance a boycott. No, I have control. The day after I pledged to not watch or listen to them, the Phillies started a six-game winning streak and eventually won twelve of their next fourteen games. I saved the season.

It wasn’t easy. I worked full days, without a game to follow—there was no point anymore in slipping out of the office at 3:00 p.m. to get in front of a TV by the east coast start times—and in my free time I brought the Pablo Escobar meme to life. My Philly friends also bullied me during the win streak, verifying I wasn’t watching and pressuring me to never do so again. They thought the Phillies started winning to spite me and that my fandom was bad luck, when, in fact, little known to them and the Phillies’ front office, I was the one pulling the strings.

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At the end of May, I sent my dad a measured assessment of my team. “The Phillies are a disgrace. Utter failure of a baseball team. Starting pitching is atrocious. Situational hitting is non-existent. Trea Turner is playing awful. And worst of all they look pathetic. They look pathetic being pathetic.” I let my complaints linger for a week, hoping they’d inspire the boys, but then I forced their hand. As the calendar flipped to June, I called into service my emergency Phillies mug. (I didn’t boycott caffeine.) 

It finally resonated. Starting pitchers Zach Wheeler, Taijuan Walker, and Ranger Suárez have allowed a combined five earned runs since June 4. Thanks to them and (for once!) a solid bullpen, the Phillies are ranked first this month in the following categories:

• Earned Run Average (ERA)

• Fielding Independent Pitching (FIP)

• Walks and Hits Per Inning (WHIP)

• Wins Above Replacement (WAR)

• Home Runs Per Nine Innings (HR/9)

• Batting Average Against (BAA)

In other words, they have been better than everyone at getting outs and preventing runs, which is a good thing when trying to win baseball games.

While they’ve been the best, my pitching staff hasn’t been flawless. Longtime ace Aaron Nola has been unreliable and their fifth starter doesn’t exist. In one of the two losses during their hot streak, the Phillies, I had texted, “started a game with a middling revliever and now have some guy named Yunior Marte pitching.” That was a bit of reverse psychology, though, as a few days later Marte picked up his first career save by striking out all three Oakland Athletics he faced. Some might say the pitchers just needed some strength or warmer weather or to get better run support or a feel for their pitches. Others might say it just comes down to luck. I say no.

The lineup had been lifeless, too. It’s as if I had deluded myself into believing at-bats by Cody Clemens, Edmundo Sosa, Christian Pache, Jake Cave, and Dalton “Woody” Guthrie could make up for injuries to stars Bryce Harper and Rhys Hoskins. One of the many revolting facts about the Mets sweep is that the Phillies scored three runs in three games, although their ineptitude crescendoed in early May when they were swept by the Los Angeles Dodgers by an aggregate score of thirty-six to eleven. Only my guy Nick Castellanos had been consistent through the first two months of the season.

Now, June Schwarber is back. Second baseman Bryson Stott is flirting with a .300 batting average. Harper’s a few violent swings away from going on a tear. Castellanos continues to rake, at least when he doesn’t have the runs, and even Chris Pache’s bat is waking up for the first time, well, ever. Turner, the Phillies’ prized free agent acquisition, is still hitting fifty points below his career batting average, but he’s too talented to not figure it out. (Right?) In retrospect, I was putting too much pressure on the guys. Not only did I expect a positive outcome every at-bat, but I also insisted that they lock in on every pitch, because I was locked in every pitch. I had to give them space. It wasn’t them, it was me.

The May slump was so painful I think I even texted one friend, “Fire Rob Thomson.” June legend Rob Thomson. “Philly Rob” Thomson. Season savior and manager of the National League champions Rob Thomson. I’m too afraid to check if I actually called for his firing. The Phillies baserunning has been poor, he forgot Kyle Schwarber batting leadoff is a cheat code, and he refuses to give at-bats against lefties to Stott and outfield Brandon Marsh, but Thomson was not the problem. The players said as much. They stunk and they knew it and with my help they’ve turned it around.

Until yesterday, that is. In the biggest game of the season so far, the Phillies tallied eight hits against Atlanta Braves ace Spencer Strider, but scratched across only one run. With the game tied 1-1 going into the top of the seventh, Thomson inexplicably summoned to the mound the team’s ninth-best reliever. They were losing 4-1 by the home half of the eighth inning, during which catcher J.T. Realmuto was tagged out trying to stretch a single into a double for no reason, killing a rally. By the end of the 4-2 loss, Turner was 0-for-4. He hadn’t figured it out. The party had ended. Because of work, I had to watch this game on my phone. I know on what device and in what location I’ll never watch the Phillies again.