Years ago my son had played on a Phillies team during Little League, but his cap had long since disappeared. I had been a coach and kept my cap, wearing it often, especially in the fall the last two years as the Phillies advanced to the World Series. Although not a fanatic, I count the Phillies among my second-tier allegiances, rooting for them if they advance after my teams drop out of the playoff picture.
Going to high school in central California, my son and his classmates were prohibited from wearing baseball caps on campus. With Norteno and Sureno gangs active in town, caps as well as red and blue garments were forbidden.
That’s not the case in Philadelphia, thank goodness. My son’s call for the cap came right about the time the Phillies had swept the Reds while the Giants were still trying to knock off the Braves. So I sent the cap to the City of Brotherly Love in a care package bound for my son’s dormitory, from the upper floors of which you can see Citizens Bank Ballpark a few miles away.
My son is a loyal and practical Giants fan. He will not wear the Phillies cap until the Giants-Phillies series is resolved. But once that’s history, he’ll be free to wear the Phillies cap and fit in with all the other cheesesteak-consuming, Santa-booing fans in Philly.