Today, all f-words begin with Ph.

A special greeting to those of you who stopped by here between 11:00pm last night and early this morning expecting to see some cheery baseball talk, but instead found a half-naked woman and an essay about sex.

This isn't a baseball blog.

Now, the people of this city can stop talking nonsense about curses, statues of William Penn and other superstitions. They can stop thinking about how it will never happen in their lifetimes and how all the teams do here is lose.

Even the functional moron who runs Major League baseball couldn't screw it up. Last night's movie-length baseball [quote] game [unquote] was a made-for-TV spectacular that started in prime time and ended early enough for the local news to send their reporters to the street to try to interview people who mostly screamed and waved their arms in joy.

For some reason, among the jumping players and screaming fans after Brad Lidge's final pitch, I found time to focus on the people from Major League Baseball who ran out with those grey T-shirts and hats for the players to wear so that they could sell them to us. I probably need a brain scan to find out why I see things like that amid the crowd.

Anyway, there's a huge parade planned for Friday. The guy who runs the schools in Philadelphia put out an announcement that the schools would be open and that students are expected to come to class. I guess he figures that the parents who aren't going to work are going to supervise the kids who aren't going to school? I think they should just close the school and get it over with. What are they possibly going to learn on Friday that is more important than taking a day to enjoy your life?

As for me, I picked a fine day to come down with a head cold - the remnants of the Sunday festivities and the after-midnight stroll down Broad Street.

I'm not a psychologist, so I can't tell you what this does for people in the larger sense. What it does, I know, is take that stink of loser out of our nose. It's been a long time since a team here has won a championship. The Sixers won in 1983. Since then, some have been closer than others, but their seasons always ended with a loss.

Fans from other cities would chide us with, "Where's your championship?" and we had nothing to say. Of course, it doesn't define who we are, but you can't argue psychology with a Red Sox or Patriots fan who points at you and yells.

So, last night marked the first time in 25 years a Philadelphia sports team ended a season with a win.

Let the selling 'o the crap begin.