Whatever It Takes: The Phillies are heating up just in time for Red October

The Philadelphia Phillies are back-to-back NL East champions, and if Kyle Schwarber is already yelling “I’m hammered” with John Middleton and 40-year old David Robertson ripping beer bongs like they are pledging a fraternity in mid-September, then buckle up. These guys might drink the country dry if they end up winning the World Series.

The Phillies are over a century old and have only 13 division titles to show for it. Thirteen. That’s not a number you stumble into. Typically we are all suffering through a long, miserable 162-game that includes injuries, bad trades, slumps, and whatever else the massive highs and crushing lows of the MLB regular season.

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That’s why this actually means something. When you claw your way through 162 and come out on top, you’ve earned the right to black out in the smallest visiting clubhouse in America with a beer funnel in your hand.

Make no mistake, the Phillies went full throttle last night

Highlights: The NL East Champion Philadelphia Phillies were BUZZIN’ last night in LA after securing the division title

Kyle Schwarber is a 50-homer man who looks just as capable of knocking back 50 beers. Bryce Harper and Bryson Stott were chugging away. Harrison Bader, deadline pickup turned gift from the baseball gods, looks like he’s been waiting his whole career to crack champagne in red pinstripes.

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Even David Robertson, old enough to be someone’s uncle shotgunning beers at a tailgate, got roped into the party.

That’s the Stubbs effect. Garrett Stubbs might not have an impact on the lineup, but he’s the undisputed Chief Vibes Officer of this team. He’s the guy making sure every single person, from the 40-man roster to billionaire owner John Middleton, is shoulder-to-shoulder, tip-to-tip, funneling and spraying booze like it’s their last day on Earth.

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This isn’t the celebration. This is the pregame.

This is just a pit stop on the way to the big one. The Phillies don’t want to be remembered for champagne showers after an NL East clinch. They want to be remembered for doing it three more times, capped off by a parade down Broad Street with beer-soaked goggles and a trophy in hand.

For now, though, the tarps are rolled out, the cigars are lit, and the boys are on one. This is just the tip, Philly. October is when it all really goes down. And judging by how the Phillies party, there might not be a beer left in America when it’s over.

How many more? Whatever the hell it takes.