After a season of bliss and heartbreak, a Midwest transplant embraces her newfound Phillies fandom

As a child growing up in Chicagoland, I was often asked by my classmates if I preferred rooting for the Cubs or the White Sox. I told them neither.

What was so great about baseball? I wondered. Football, I sort of understand. Watching as my dad cheered, yelled, or complained (sometimes all during the same game) over his beloved Chicago Bears, it was a sport I couldn’t get away from even if I tried. Hockey, too, to some extent. But baseball? Too long, too boring, according to my dad. And since my sports interests were so heavily influenced by him, I thought baseball was boring, too.

Then I moved to Philadelphia.

Everyone knows Philly has passionate sports fans (for better or for worse). So it was hard to ignore the celebrations and buzz around the Phillies during their World Series trot in 2022, and their sprint to the National League Championship Series last year. In 2023, I’d attended a game or two, but it wasn’t until this year that I decided to jump in feetfirst for no other reason than curiosity. Because I wanted to know: What is it about the Phillies? And what a year I picked.

I knew the basics of how baseball works, but I was soon inundated with rules and statistics and abbreviations I’d never even heard of. And while I knew some of the players’ names, I didn’t really know much about this team, other than that the Phillies had been playing pretty well the last few seasons, and all my Philly friends were cheering for them. It was overwhelming, but I was determined to learn.

I watched videos and asked questions — a lot of questions — and paid attention while watching games. And now, after a week of reflection since the Phillies’ playoff run came to a heartbreaking end, I’m just now starting to process everything I experienced during my first season as a serious baseball fan.

I was lucky enough to attend over a dozen games this season. Whether it was a walk-off against the Milwaukee Brewers in the bottom of the 10th or clinching the National League East title for the first time in 13 years against my hometown Cubs, every game was a unique experience. Sometimes there was a proposal on the jumbotron. Or a girl dressed like the Phanatic got the chance to dance with the actual Phanatic. Or the crowd would successfully start the wave — or not.

I even started keeping a scorecard when I’d attend a game in person so I could keep my own record of the game. Fellow spectators would sometimes compliment me on my scorekeeping, noting how it’s something fans rarely do these days. I’ve found it to be a fun way to stay engaged with the game (even if I wasn’t very good at following it yet). Not that these Phils needed any extra reasons to keep me interested. Every pitch and every at-bat this season was an uncertainty. Every play could be the one that tips the scales, could send your heart racing or turn your stomach in knots.

If I’m completely honest, one of the main reasons I learned to appreciate baseball was because of how I much I appreciated this Phillies team, in particular. While some teams have players who are just coworkers, these guys are actually friends (Brandon Marsh and Alec Bohm are even roommates). Their chemistry is palpable, and the clubhouse vibes are immaculate. They continually cheer on one another and aren’t afraid to show affection. Watching the Daycare guys drench a teammate after a win always makes me laugh. Some might argue these antics are silly or dumb, but it’s nice to see adult professional athletes having fun playing the sport that can sometimes feel overly serious and businesslike.

Out of everything I’ve experienced following the Phillies this season, what I think makes these games even more memorable are the fans. Nearly every game I went to was a sold-out crowd. Fans would cheer at the top of their lungs on a play they liked, and boo just as loudly on a play they didn’t. “There’s nothing like coming into the Bank and playing in front of these fans,” Bryce Harper has said.

Philly sports fans, I’ve come to learn, love and hate in equal measure. Their expectations for their teams are high, and they aren’t afraid to let them know when those expectations aren’t being met. And while I couldn’t ever bring myself to boo the Phils, I had a better understanding of those who did.

At the start of the season, sports culture baffled me a bit. Why would anyone spend so much of their time, energy, and money on a multimillion-dollar enterprise whose only purpose is to entertain and make a profit?

Now, I do understand, at least a little.

That desire to see your favorite team succeed, only to be met with disappointment and heartbreak when they fall short.

The fellowship you feel with complete strangers simply because you’re cheering for the same team.

While this season didn’t end the way the team and the fans wanted, it just may have forever cemented me as both a Phillies fan and a baseball fan. (I’ve already put down a deposit for partial season tickets next season.) If there’s one thing I’ll cherish discovering this season, it’s this: Baseball is fun.

Emily Ward is a multiplatform editor at The Inquirer.