Written by Gino Ferretti | 17 August 2010

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Toward the end of the 2007 baseball season, I took a job in Pittsburgh. And as I settled in, I carried my Philly pride all around my new city. People got to know me. The way I talked. The accent. The Flyers jersey that got cursed at more times than a cheating spouse. My drunken and obnoxious E-A-G-L-E-S chants during Steelers/Eagles preseason games. I was the guy everyone in Pittsburgh loved to hate. Because not only was I the enemy, I hated Sidney Crosby. And in Pittsburgh, you can hate Jesus, but you dare not take the Wizard Of Cros' name in vain. However the people were friendly and the women were plenty, so in time, I fit in. I met a girl who's father was a socialite in the area who had more connections than a South Philly kid named Joey. So naturally I reaped the benefits of her fathers left field, front row Pirates tickets. My first invite was to see my Phillies play in late April of the 2008 season. PNC Park had always looked beautiful from the river, so I was excited for a chance to see my team, out of Philly, for the first time in my life. But most importantly, I was going to be sitting right behind The Bat.

The night before the game, I had an idea for a sign I wanted to make. I called Steph to tell her I wanted to bring a sign. But I couldn't tell her what it said because I wanted it to be a surprise. Because we had only been hanging out for six months, I could hear the worry in her voice. But i reassured her that I had no plans of asking her to marry me. The next day as we arrived at PNC Park, sign tucked under a tight arm, I realized how popular she was. Apparently she's been coming to these games almost daily since the place opened in 2001. Along with her father's reputation, we were granted exclusive entrance to our seats.

My sign was never inspected.

Once we made it to our seats, I began coaching her on who everyone in the Phillies' line up was. And why Chase Utley was playing first base that night. And why Ryan Howard was not in the line up. But really, it was all about Pat and his team leading .354 average. I told her everything about Pat. How in the season before he hit four HR's in a four game series vs. The Mets. And how he's my favorite because I despise the Mets, and at that point, he led all active players in HR's vs. that choking team from NY. So she started referring to him as Big Bat Pat. And although I forgot to tell her his wonderful nickname, I went along with it.

After Chris Coste doubled home Jayson Werth and Chase Utley in the top of the first, Pat made his pimp jog out to left field for the first time. Just as he got close enough to where I was in clear and present sight, I held up the sign.

Just as Burrell looked up after Jayson Werth in CF brought it to his attention, Steph leaped up to read my sign. As quick as Pat showed a faint smile, I was covered in Iron City Light. As she stormed off, I made no attempt to chase after her. Embarrassment dripped down my head as the beer reached my lips. All I could do was lick them. But to be honest, it tasted good. It was the taste of victory. Pat The Bat's reaction was well worth the beer now reeking his jersey I wore. Oh well, at least the Phils were winning.

After a few phone calls the next day, I finally reached through to Steph and explained myself. We were clearly done because not only was her reputation disrespected, she felt I had more of a crush on Pat Burrell than her. The balls on this woman. And for an hour she bashed me and compared me to a 14 year old boy with a baseball card collection and a player obsession. Whatever. She didn't give blow jobs anyway.

As the rest of that magical season played out and Brad Lidge dropped to his knees as Chooch jumped into his arms, I was glad to have seen my world champion baseball team, even if it was only once that season. I was one of the many who was crushed when no deal was made to retain Burrell after the 2008 season. Why break up a good thing? But apparently the Phillies didn't have my heart in mind. While I wait for the Phillies to retire the number 5, I already have done it in his honor by not wearing his jersey since the end of that championship season. It's only fair. Mike Sweeney. Mark Weeney. There's only one Pat the Bat. Shame on any of you who think otherwise.

After a stint as a DH in Tampa Bay, and a brief stop in the minors, Pat Burrell was called up by the Giants this past June 4th. Ironically, on June 5th, The Giants were making a stop at PNC Park for a three game series. I had to go. Anybody who knows anything about Pittsburgh and Pirates baseball knows that tickets to games are easier to catch than a cold. So me and three of my buddies lined up four tickets to the game. Left field of course. In my Phillies hat and Pat Burrell Phillies shirsey, I gave him a standing ovation as spectators booed me and asked me if I was high. After all I was in Phillies gear at a Pirates game cheering for the Giants left fielder. Fuck them. It was Pat. Big Bat Pat! In between the 6th inning, I noticed a girl walking up the stairs from a handful of rows down. It was Steph. I called out her name, and with a smile she greeted me with a hug. It had been two years since I saw her, so we caught up a bit. The hatchet was buried between us. She told me she was there with her girlfriends enjoying the game and told me her friend Joanna was there to see Ryan Howard play. According to her story, Joanna was Ryan Howard's sex toy in Pittsburgh, and every time he came to town, they hooked up. Typical groupie story, so it wasn't of much interest to me, but funny nonetheless. Steph went on to tell me she met Pat Burrell and Ryan Howard last August when the Phillies were out in Pittsburgh last. She met Pat The Bat? I couldn't believe it! I asked all sorts of questions. Is he nice. Does he smell good. Did he attract a lot of girls. Does he drink Dos Equis. She answered my questions to the best of her knowledge although you could tell she was uncomfortable.

"Well I gotta get back, it was nice seeing you again." She said as she came toward me for a hug.

"Yeah, you too. Have fun tonight." I said.

She took three more steps up, turned around and yelled

"Hey, I know why they call him 'The Bat', now...'The Big Bat' to be specific."