By: Rebecca Serad, Sports Talk Philly Staff 
Eight years ago, I was fifteen, a sophomore in high school. Eight years ago, I experienced the best day of my life. Eight years ago, I was there when the Philadelphia Phillies won the World Series and made me feel part of it.
Game 5 of the 2008 World Series against the Tampa Bay Rays started on October 27. I remember being bundled in layers upon layers of clothing to be ready for the expected cold weather and rain. My mom, who was actually the one to get me interested in baseball many years before, and I were ready for the bleak forecast. We had a bag full of everything from umbrellas for the rain to a space blanket for extra warmth. After years of sitting through countless games with every kind of weather that one could imagine, we settled into our seats in the 300 level, fully prepared.
There are few experiences that I have had that have even remotely compared to the overwhelming excitement that flooded through the ballpark. People were jammed in every open space, whether it be in the seats or on the concourse. The fans were anxiously on the edge of their seats with each pitch, each out. The fuzz from waving the freshly unpacked rally towels floated through the air as the stadium created a sea of swirling white among the red from all the fans dressed in their Phillies gear.
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That atmosphere started to sour as the weather began to get worse and worse. The freezing temperature was now accompanied by the worst torrential rain that I've ever seen at a game. My glasses were covered in raindrops, but even I could see that the field was turning into a watery mud pit. Cole Hamels was starting to lose some of his control as a result, allowing the Rays to tie the game in the top of the sixth.
It was then that game five went into a lengthy rain delay. My mom and I sat on the upper level concourse, huddled next to a column under the space blanket as the wind blew the rain in our direction. For a long time, there was no further announcement. We waited and waited for public address announcer Dan Baker to give us an update on the game status. Ultimately, for the first time in postseason baseball history, it was decided that the game would be suspended.
We returned to the ballpark and resettled into our seats on October 29. It was still cold, but nothing compared to the weather two days prior. It was incredibly strange to get to the stadium, hear line-ups announced along with the national anthem, and then to resume the game in the bottom of the sixth inning instead of starting with the first.
The ballpark was electric once again. New rally towels were distributed and they were immediately put to good use. The next inning was a nail-biter, as the scoring went back and forth. The Phillies took the lead for good in the bottom of the seventh. Would the bullpen, which had been excellent all season, be able to hold off the Rays? Would closer Brad Lidge remain perfect for the season?
As the top of the ninth inning drew closer, the noise from the crowd was deafening. Every strike was greeted with cheers and every out elicited screams of elation. The ninth inning was the culmination of my personal Phillies fanhood. After supporting the team through the ups and downs of the early 2000s, this was their moment. Strike three to Eric Hinske for the final out of the game brought tears to my eyes. That pure feeling of euphoria couldn't be subdued, not even by the man behind me who threw his drink in joy and covered my right arm in beer. The fans sitting around us best characterized the stadium-wide reaction. Strangers exchanged high fives and hugs, laughter followed screams, toasts were made.
(Rebecca Serad/Sports Talk Philly)
I remember watching the dog pile on the mound and the hugs between players. It largely mirrored what was happening in the stands, but it had more meaning. The team had earned the title, not the fans. But as the players donned their 2008 World Series Champions shirts and hats and took turns running around the ballpark with the championship flag, it felt like we were just as much a part of that win. It felt like we had helped fuel the victory.
I watched as a makeshift stage was assembled just outside of the infield to present the trophy. I remember booing commissioner Bud Selig with the rest of the stadium and wildly cheering for team president David Montgomery, general manager Pat Gillick and manager Charlie Manuel. I remember feeling pride swell in my chest when Charlie Manuel said, “This is for Philadelphia!”. I remember seeing Cole Hamels walk onto the stage to accept the World Series MVP trophy. Most of all, I remember my hands turning red and feeling like they had their own pulse from all of the clapping from that night.
(Rebecca Serad/Sports Talk Philly)
The buzz from the ballpark translated into a more crazed frenzy in the parking lots and on the road. Packer Avenue was jam-packed with cars. Some were driving haphazardly on the wrong sides of the road, others had passengers hanging out of windows, even more were sporadically beeping their horns in delight. It was terrifying, yet incredibly exhilarating.
Eight years ago, the Philadelphia Phillies won their first World Series championship title since 1980. The environment in the stadium this whole season doesn't even remotely compare to what I experienced during those two October nights. But with a new crop of talent cruising through the minor leagues, maybe the city of Philadelphia won't have to wait another twenty-eight years before a new Phillies team brings home a title. Maybe the fans can will them to win again.
