Phillies playoffs with my 10-year-old son mean extra magic for a fan like me

Fifth-grade homework can wait. (Note to Mrs. Guy: Kieran’s math and spelling will be a little late, but he’ll make up any missed work.)

These days, I’m moonlighting as a Phillies fan reporter, a dream for a diehard like me. And when my 10-year-old lucked into a ticket for Game 2 of the National League Championship Series, it was an easy call to let Kieran stay up to attend the game, though I’m usually a stickler for early-to-bed-tomorrow’s-a-school-day.

“It feels surreal,” Kieran said as we rode the escalator up to the top decks of Citizens Bank Park on a beautiful Tuesday night to see the Philadelphia Phillies play the Arizona Diamondbacks.

Kieran’s eyes were big, and he was full of questions: How loud was the game going to be? Was Aaron Nola so nervous he was going to throw up, or did big leaguers not get anxious? The ballpark’s charged atmosphere fed our enthusiasm.

My oldest is a major fan like his mom, and has been since he could ask me what a balk is and why on earth did that guy swing at the first pitch? Kieran attended his first ballgame when he was 3 months old, took a trip to Clearwater, Fla., to see the Phillies at spring training when he was 2, and last year had his heart broken when the Phils lost the World Series to the Houston Astros.

But Kieran’s baseball heart healed quickly; that’s how we Phillies fans roll. He was all-in again this year, confident that the team would sail to the playoffs. It didn’t matter that Bryce Harper was out for the first part of the season, or that at one point they were six games under .500: have faith, Kieran said.

So I did. And the team delivered, just as Kieran said it would.

So on Tuesday night, we experienced October magic together, another Phils gem, with Nola pitching six shutout innings and everyone contributing something as the Phillies cruised to a 10-0 win, going up 2-0 in the NLCS.

It does feel strange to be the big dogs, favored by pundits and peons to head to the World Series and maybe take it all, we agreed.

“I like being underdogs more,” Kieran said. “That’s what Philly is.”

But we’re liking the team-of-destiny thing, too, we agreed, high-fiving when Kyle Schwarber smacked his second home run of the night, exchanging incredulous looks and hugs as the team piled on run after run. Really? 10-0?

(We briefly considered feeling sorry for the Diamondbacks, but quickly said “nah” to that idea, though Kieran was a little off put by the crowd’s vigorous boo of D-backs rookie outfielder Corbin Carroll. “I appreciate the energy, but he’s a perfectly fine player,” Kieran said.)

The city has been captivated by Liam Castellanos, Phillies slugger Nick Castellanos’ 10-year-old, and I also love watching Liam cheer on his dad at work. As I interviewed fans Tuesday night, I got a taste of it myself. Pro tip: People are much more likely to open up to you at the ballpark when you have a precocious 10-year-old along for the ride.

“Let’s go interview more people, Mom,” Kieran said in the bottom of the first inning. “Who looks like they want to talk?”

(Fans Amy and Cheryll Oestreich of Reading, who brought Lochel’s Bakery cookies to the game for the players, were so charmed by Kieran that they gave him one, a gorgeous sugar cookie iced with “Harper 3″ and red pinstripes. Kieran brought it home for his brother, my younger son, Julian, a 7-year-old who’s hoping for a ticket to a future playoff game and who most certainly would have booed Carroll.)

At a few points, Kieran grabbed my hand and held it as we roamed the stadium — a rarity these days, as he slips off little-boyhood and enters tweendom. We ate ice cream at 10:30 p.m. because rules are relaxed when your team is dominating in the NLCS. We took a picture with a guy dressed like Elmo, complete with a Phillies jersey. I was going for a selfie when Elmo handed my phone to a passing stranger.

“It’s Philly, we help each other,” he said.

As we took a long, slow walk to the car postgame, Kieran couldn’t believe it was nearing midnight. We saw two fans waiting out the traffic on camp chairs next to their car and stopped for an impromptu talk about rookie Orion Kerkering, whose Single-A-to-the-majors meteoric rise has made him Kieran’s current favorite player.

“He’s going to be the closer next year,” Kieran told our new friends. “No nerves!”

I asked Kieran what his favorite part of the evening was.

“The win,” he said, “but also I just like talking baseball with you.”

We got home close to 1 a.m., the latest Kieran has ever stayed up. He wanted to sleep in his clothes because he was so tired, but also because it felt good to hold tight to whatever part of our magical evening he could. He asked me for one more special treat: He wanted to listen to sports talk radio as he fell asleep.

“I loved tonight,” he said drowsily.

Me too, buddy.