Phillies fans, campaign volunteers and newspaper editors shared a week to be remembered last week -- a seven-day adrenaline rush through sleep deprivation (late games on TV), endorsement editorials (down to the wire), and planning/revising/finalizing celebration front pages.

The antics of the weather and the dramatic play on the field made headline writers out of all of us.
"The Chase is On,"
"Reign Delay,"
"Lumber Party,"
"Swat Team,"
"Loud and Proud,"
"Parade of Champions,"
and "Phinally --
World expletive-deleted Champs."
Creativity was at full tilt throughout the week, as we pulled all the stops on full-color poster front pages, wrapping World Series coverage around the regular newspaper, and juggling deadlines and ad copy at midnight more than once to get the most out in front of readers in timely fashion.
For the first time that I can remember in 30-plus years at The Mercury, we cranked up the press a second time in the same cycle to print more copies. An extra 2,500 copies came off the press Thursday morning to be snatched off store shelves and out of honor boxes as quickly as the first run.
I overheard conversations among 20-somethings at Coventry Mall lamenting that they couldn't find a paper to buy anywhere on Thursday morning.
When the Phillies took the field to celebrate Wednesday night, fans were holding up bulldog copies of Philadelphia newspapers to banner the news "WE WIN!" in all its glory. Newspapers were selling out at train stations, local newsstands, and convenience stores as fast as the World Series locker room shirts at sporting good stores.

Everyone wanted a souvenir, a collectible, something to hold in their hand, save in the attic and show the next generation. The Internet just doesn't cut it at times like this.
But the Phillies were not the only news story in town. With less than a week remaining before the Presidential Election, we were also faced with getting candidate endorsements written and published during the week for the Congressional and state legislative races in the area.
Many newspapers have shunned political endorsements as an unnecessary exercise in opinions, but we believe that they are even more important, not less, in this age of negative televised campaigning and roadside sign clutter. We believe that print newspapers offer a seasoned perspective that can not be replaced by electronic media. We believe that we own a trust in our local community that holds sway over the strident voices on the air waves.
So, even while mapping out our World Series' specials, we were discussing and crafting our picks in area congressional and legislative races. I also wrote an endorsement last week of Sen. Barack Obama for President, a choice met with some dissension among both employeees and readers of this newspaper. But, it is an opinion, nothing more or less, and we believe strongly that we owe you, our readers, the honesty of our choices while we urge you to make yours.
Last week got a little crazy, but in sports and elections is where print media excels. Baseball and politics are played and celebrated in words and pictures, and that's what we do best. Last week presented a challenge to keep things straight and avoid confusing headlines and slogans. (The Champs We Need?)
The staff of this newspaper did an outstanding job in capturing for our readers the thrill of the Phillies' win. And, now we have an election to cover for you.
Some may say newspapers are a dying breed, but during weeks like last, I see the importance we hold in daily life.
Today is Election Day. Last week the Phillies won the World Series.
Be informed. Celebrate.
Buy a newspaper.

I'm a bandwagon fan.

When the Eagles are headed into the postseason ... when the Sixers made the playoffs, oh so long ago ... and when the Phillies play an October Phest.

I'm there. Rooting, hooping, cheering for the home team. I'm a pretty quick study, so I can get up to speed with who's who even though I paid no attention all summer.

It's better this way. I have all the excitement of winning without having gone through the agony of losing. (I ignored the Eagles previous two games, but paid a little attention this past Sunday.)

In the case of this year's Phillies, my bandwagon ride started on a Sunday in the last week of the regular season when I had the privilege of tickets to the last game in the Phillies-Brewers series. We saw the Phils take the game for a sweep of the Brewers, and on the ride home, listened on the radio to the Mets blow the lead in their game, starting the chain of events that led days later to putting the Phillies in first in the National League East Division.

Watching Shane Victorino hit and Chase Utley field in person, seeing Ryan Howard and Pat Burrell power the bats put me on board. Of course, if they had lost the next few games I would have just chalked it up to another year and moved on.

But, they didn't, and here we are, two wins away from the World Series.

I wore a Chase Utley jersey to work on Friday. I found the "Big Talker" 1210 radio station on my car radio to hear Friday night's game while en route to the grocery store. I even suggested to my husband that we watch a weekend night game in a sports bar (I love Pennsylvania's new smoking ban at times like this).

I love baseball. That is not a bandwagon phenomenon; that is my birthright. I am from a family of ballplayers, and I brag about that often. But, I don't have the patience or fortitude to follow any team closely for 162 games.

So I wait and watch for the boys of summer to play through the fall.

I may jump on the bandwagon, but it's a great ride.

Today, October 6, is my Dad's birthday. He has been gone three years, but his presence seemed close this past weekend when his beloved Phillies won the NL East Division. A year ago, when the Phils made it to the post-season for the first time in 14 years, I wrote the following column for The Mercury.
Except for the few sentences about specific plays in last year's games, the message is relevant this year, too, in memory of my Dad and in honor of all aging ballplayers and enthusiastic fans.

Oct. 20, 1993: The Phillies were playing Toronto in the World Series in a night game, their first post-season appearance in 10 years.
Even the most cynical would not have thought it would take another 14 years to enjoy a home playoff again.
That night in Pottstown, a hundred or so sports fans missed the start of the televised game to attend a sports banquet at The Elks Club. The event was the 16th annual induction ceremony for the Pottstown area chapter of the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame.
Among the inductees that evening was a ball player “who starred in just about every league in the Pottstown area, from Berks County to the Main Line.” My dad, Jim Egolf, was the last of the five inductees to step to the podium that night,
Our family was there in full force to celebrate Dad’s induction, but we were a little worried about his speech. Dad, who was 77 at the time, suffered from aphasia, a speech difficulty as the result of a stroke, and we did not know if he could successfully complete an acceptance speech.
The first four inductees were long-winded, some of them with more eloquence than others, and we silently fretted as it became time for Dad to approach the podium.
When he took his turn, his words were few, but captured the mood of the room better than anybody on that October night.
“I want to thank everybody who voted for me. Let’s go home now, and watch the Phillies,” he said to a room of rousing applause.
In the next day’s Mercury, then-sports editor Tom McNichol described Dad as the “cleanup hitter” who kept his speech short and sweet. “Egolf’s brief speech was the perfect punctuation” for an induction banquet of local sports fans, McNichol wrote.
My Dad’s baseball career lasted through the 1930s and into the ’40s in amateur and semi-pro teams throughout the region. He was introduced at that Hall of Fame banquet as “the best defensive catcher of his time.” When his playing days ended, he coached youth teams for another 15 years or so, including two years with the Boyertown American Legion team in the early 1960s.
He was a lifelong Phillies fan. He loved them, hated them, cursed them and cheered them, but never stopped watching them. Even in his moment of pride in 1993, he was anxious to get home and turn on the TV.
When they were hitting, Dad was happy. But you could hear the swearing start at those times when innings ended with two runners on base after blowing a chance to score.
He believed in lightning-speed throws and hits when it matters. That was how he played the game and how he exhorted the Phils with his armchair-coaching.
He would have had more to say about Ryan Howard baubling the ball at first base in Saturday’s game than his solo homer. He would have praised Jimmy Rollins triple with two men on during Sunday’s game more than Pat Burrell’s home run Saturday when they were already down by 3.
The newspaper clippings of Dad’s playing days describe him as a clutch hitter and a catcher who protected the plate and second base.
“If a runner started off first and Jim was behind the plate, all I had to do was hold up my glove, and that ball was there,” said the Rev. William Harner, a second baseman of Dad’s era who delivered the eulogy at his funeral two years ago.
Now, 14 years after that World Series that we hurried home to watch, the Phillies are back in the playoffs.
John Kruk, Darren Daulton and Lenny Dykstra are long gone. But so is Mitch Williams, and for that, we are all thankful.
Dad would have loved these 2007 Phillies. A 44-year-old pitcher from Souderton, a shortstop who hits, steals and throws ’em out at the plate, and a manager who grumps and grouses but holds the team together.
He would have grumbled approval at their high moments and cursed under his breath at their low ones. But like all Phillies fans, he would have never stopped watching them or wanting them to win.
Oct. 20, 1993, provided one of the proudest moments of my Dad’s life when he was inducted into the state Hall of Fame. He didn’t pause long to savor the moment.
He just went home to watch the Phillies.