Dispelling Illusions

PHILADELPHIA

Throughout the Phillies history since 1883, one word has hung over the franchise: faint-hearted. When you win one world title, spread over parts of three centuries, much baggage must be shed and many franchise ghouls slain before you can add a second ring.

So, the tale within a tale of Game 1 of the National League Championship Series here on Thursday night is not simply that Philadelphia managed to beat the Dodgers, 3-2. Nor is it simply that the powerful Phils won because of homers in the sixth inning by Chase Utley and Pat Burrell off Derek Lowe or that southpaw ace Cole Hamels got the win with seven innings of two-run hurling.

In a long series, an opening victory is always excellent. But for the Phillies, this win carried much extra weight. Not only did they overcome a 2-0 deficit and capitalize on a Raphael Furcal error to open their three-run inning. Not only did they watch their own modest homers land in the third row of their cozy park in the power alleys, but they also watched Manny Ramírez hit a ball to the furthest square foot of this entire park -- 17 feet up the 18-foot wall above the 409-foot sign in center field. One foot to the right or one foot higher, it's a home and this game's still tied at 3.

"That's the furthest ball anybody can hit and not be out of the yard," said Hamels. "I'm just lucky." Found: The Abominable Snowman, a new planet, a lucky Phillie!

Perhaps most important of all, however, the Phils took the first step toward demythologizing a Dodger team that has been wrapping itself in the cloak of famous men who've won titles for other teams in recent years.

When a pennant is at stake, every player on both teams knows how things stand, especially when there's little to pick between them. Since the Dodgers and Phils met eight times in August, each sweeping a four-game series at home from the other, they know how little separates them.

So, Los Angeles did its best at psychological warfare, knowing how much the Phils love to strut and slug before their white-towel waving, utterly phanatical, but sometimes hypercritical fans.

The Phils have more established elite regulars, more experience, more wins in recent years, including this season (92 to 84). But the Dodgers have Hollywood star power. So, they rolled it out to open the show.

Here they came, the glamorous transplants, one after another, now in Dodger Blue, as if to inform the Phils of the difference in their lineages. First came Joe Torre, bringing out the lineup card with his grandfatherly limp, reminding everyone that no Yankee manager was better.

Then, in the first inning, amid the best boos Philly could muster without any real reason for hate, Ramírez mashed the second pitch from Hamels for that almost-gone RBI double. Sorry, Manny, got to cancel the home run trot.