A sweating, flustered Matt Klentak enters the Buddhist monastery, scanning the red robed holy men for the man he’s come to see. His eyes squint and he nods his head as he sees his acquisition, the man they call The Hammer, working silently on an ox cart to repair a broken axle.
Klentak walks slowly up to the 23-year-old closer, observing his work. Hammer’s head raises slightly, sensing a presence behind him. His shoulders slump and he exhales wearily, knowing what’s going to come next.
Sorry Phanatic, you’re going to hell.
I have read this article ever year on Opening Day for the past five seasons. It might be, and I quote, the single greatest thing I have ever read involving Christianity and Philadelphia baseball. Every single time I read it, I marvel at how much joy I’m able to garner from someone that has a vastly different worldview than I do.
Please, before reading the horrible things I have to say, go read it for yourself. It’s acceptable to be a Phillies Phanatic but a fanatic about Jesus? Not so much. by Lisa Small.
The Coggin Toboggan 