There must be something weird I am doing for this to happen. But in the last two post season appearances the Phillies have made I've been witness to the aftermath of a serious accident.
Last year when the Phils played in game 1 against the Rockies (which they lost), I drove down to see the game with my wife. We were complaining about traffic on route 309 South the whole way down as it was really slow and I was getting worried because I didn't want to be late for the 1st playoff game in 14 years. We felt horrible about complaining because we eventually came upon a construction worker on the side of the road who had a sheet pulled over him. I have no idea if he had a heart attack or was the victim of an accident. Didn't really matter, as dead is dead.
This past Friday my friend Jeff and I were giddy with glee as we left our seats. The Phils had just won game 2 of the series against the Dodgers. But our mood soured quickly as we ventured out to the stairwell from section 419 to see a lifeless body laying on the concrete on the concourse of the 300 level. We overheard that just seconds before the poor guy had fallen over the railing that overhung the stairs and from about row 9. Just from eyeballing it, I'd say it was at least a 30 to 35 foor drop. The man had already had scores of people trying to help so I said to Jeff that it would be best to just get out of the way and not stand around and gape.
It wasn't until hours later I learned from a fellow poster at Backshegoes.com (who I sold the seats next to me and Jeff to) that when he came upon the scene that the man was moving his fingers and had a brace on him as they were putting him on the stretcher. Now, it's comforting to know the guy is alive, but he could be majorly fucked up. It seriously freaked me and Jeff out as we were somewhat silent on the car ride back, especially considering the Phillies just won a huge game.
Had he died from the fall it would have been the 4th fresh dead body I have seen. (I'm not counting funerals) The first was my mother after she gave up the ghost on a gloomy February morning while I was showering. My brother came downstairs to find her dead as we had her home for hospice care for her terminal cancer. My father, broter and I all sat on the couch and looked at her in shock even though we knew that this moment was coming any day.
The next dead guy I saw was at the Trevose train station. I was parked waiting for my girlfriend and future wife to come home from Jefferson university. I was doing a puzzle and heard the conductor screaming at the top of his lungs, "Aw FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!" I looked up and saw a man laying on the tracks behind the SEPTA train. Lynn had found out the next day from other commuters that the man was from New York and was in Philly on business. He was taking the Septa train from Philly to Trenton and catching NJ Transit from there. He had fallen asleep and misheard the announcement of the Trevose stop for Trenton. Once he was off the train he realized his mistake and jumped back on the train without his briefcase. He jumped off again for the briefcase but had fallen under the train and was crushed to death.
I don't really care to see another dead body. Despite the fact that a dead body can't do anything to me, it is a harsh reminder of our mortality. I'd rather blissfully ignore that cold, hard reality as much as I can. It may, however, be more important to remember that for no reason, like that guy who fell asleep on a train, that stupid shit can happen at any time, no matter how careful you are.
Ooops, is this another Carpe Diem post?