In the moments after Bryce Harper hit the biggest home run in the history of Citizens Bank Park, the man who hit the most home runs in Citizens Bank Park marveled at how much Harper has changed.
“I’ve just seen his growth,” Ryan Howard said, as he wrangled his daughters near the umpires’ dressing room.
Growth?
“His growth as, ‘That Guy,’“ Howard said, a twinkle in his eyes. That Guy?
That Guy, around whom the lineup was built. That Guy, who makes the most money. That Guy, who earns every dime. That Guy, who never shies from the brightest lights.
That Guy, who wants only to win.
The Phillies have had few guys who were able to handle being “That Guy,” especially in Philadelphia, a city with a baseball fan base that is less rational than rabid. Most notably, there was Mike Schmidt. Most recently, there was Ryan Howard.
Most assuredly, there is Bryce Harper.
Howard’s last five seasons in the majors were Harper’s first five, and they have a special connection. Harper debuted in 2012, the season Howard, a former Rookie of the Year, MVP, and a three-time All-Star, was coming back from a ruptured Achilles tendon. Howard quickly passed the torch of superstardom in the National League East to the brash and brilliant kid in D.C. Howard then watched that kid in D.C. spend the next seven years grow into the sort of person who gets Philly.
“He’s waaaaaaay different now,” Howard said, smiling. “It’s fun to see that growth. And to see it in a city where the media and the fans can be very, very hard, and a city where they always give you a lot of attention. That’s understanding the fan base.”
Harper had a lot to learn.
“I’m grateful for the experiences that I went through when I was younger to get me to where I am today,” he said after his two-run home run in Game 5 of the NLCS sent the Phillies back to the World Series. “As a teammate, as a person, father, everything.”
And where many players might not want to play for a demanding, East Coast fan base, Harper had seen the energy Philadelphians bring, and he craved it.
“I wanted that emotion from the fan base,” he said. “They just want you to work hard. They want you to play hard. They want you to be who you are, no excuses. They don’t care if you’re hurt or you’re not feeling good or if you didn’t sleep the night before. They don’t care.”
The fan base in Philadelphia and this Phillies team — this upstart collection of patched-up stars and overachieving kids — is a marvelous thing to witness, but it is not unprecedented. Howard saw the same connections when the Phillies won the World Series 14 years ago.
“There’s a lot of shades of ‘08 there,” Howard said.
Such as?
“There’s that resilience,” Howard said.
The Golden Era
Howard’s Phillies certainly were heroic. Shane Victorino and Matt Stairs hit late homers and silenced Dodger Stadium in Game 4 of the 2008 NLCS. Jimmy Rollins ripped a walk-off double to win Game 4 of the 2009 NLCS.
These Phillies scored six runs in the top of the ninth of Game 1 of the wild-card round to start a sweep in St. Louis and kick off their playoff run. They won their last two games in comeback style: They erased a 4-0, first-inning deficit to win Game 4 of the NLCS, and Harper’s homer, in the bottom of the eighth of Game 5, erased the 3-2 lead the Padres had taken in the top of the seventh.
“That’s what the ‘Fightin’' in ‘Fightin’ Phillies’ is all about,” Howard said.
Howard’s Phillies fought their way to five straight NL East titles. If Harper’s Phillies were going back to the playoffs, Harper had to carry them. And it wouldn’t happen in the shadows.
Howard mentioned attention — attention that players don’t get in a place like Washington — and Harper certainly understands attention.
When Harper signed a free-agent deal with the Phillies in March 2019 for 13 years and $330 million, he realized he would be in high demand when the team returned to Philadelphia after spring training. According to a source who then worked for the Phillies, Harper was, of course, inundated with interview requests. He said “Yes” to every single one — an impossible itinerary. It fell to the PR staff to winnow out some requests and to delay others.
The young, wary Bryce Harper who existed in D.C. would never have been so accessible. But then, the young, wary Bryce Harper who existed in D.C. wouldn’t have been a good fit in Philly.
But Bryce, the Ambassador? Bryce, the father? Bryce, the Phillie Phanatic’s best friend? He’s everything Eagles center Jason Kelce is, and more.
“It’s one of those things where he’s embraced the entire situation,” Howard said. “And the only focus is on winning a championship.”
Right man for the job
Harper sat on a carpeted floor, exhausted. His back leaned against a cinder block wall. His stocking feet and his uniform and his hair and his beard were drenched, and his eye black was running, and he created a puddle of beer and champagne beneath him. The NLCS MVP trophy sat next to him. He’d won that trinket without any real competition; his homer in Game 5 not only sent the Phillies to their first World Series in 13 years, it made Harper the unquestioned star of the playoffs.
Among players who’d played at least five games, Harper was alone in first place or tied for first place with a .419 batting average, a 1.351 OPS, five home runs, 11 RBIs, 10 runs scored, six doubles, a .907 slugging percentage, and 18 hits.
Harper was patiently waiting for Rhys Hoskins to finish his post-celebration press conference so he could let everyone know how little that particular trophy meant to him, considering what might still lie in store. Then, it was his turn.
“This is great, to be able to be the last National League team standing right now. The Philadelphia Phillies. We’re here,” Harper said.
This was never the goal, he said.
“We’re ready to go in that next round. We’ve got four more.”
Just win, baby
All great players crave titles over anything else. Tom Brady and Joe Montana. Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan. Bobby Clarke and Wayne Gretzky. Mike Schmidt and Ryan Howard.
They never bragged about their MVP awards or their home run titles or their money. They bragged about their rings. When you’re truly “That Guy,” the pursuit of championships becomes an obsession.
Howard was the Rookie of the Year in 2005 and the home run champ and the NL MVP in 2006, but both years he went home empty. He was neither an All-Star nor the MVP in 2007, but he made the playoffs, which made him a winner. He was neither an All-Star nor the MVP in 2008, but he won the World Series, which made him a champion.
Those are the years Howard talks about these days. In particular, he talks about how the 2007 and 2008 teams finally shed themselves of the Bobby Abreu/Larry Bowa/Scott Rolen/Ed Wade shadow with Abreu’s trade at the 2007 deadline. The team now belonged to manager Charlie Manuel, GM Pat Gillick, Jimmy Rollins, Chase Utley, and of course, That Guy, Ryan Howard.
Harper’s teams have been saddled with managers whose huge personalities, whose devotion to analytics, numbers, and whose acrylic interpersonal skills kept the club from flourishing. Gabe Kapler, Harper’s first manager as a Phillie and a first-time skipper, had to learn that his gut was sometimes a better compass than his calculator. Joe Girardi was fired June 3 because his manage-by-numbers system created a fleet of robots in the dugout.
Enter baseball lifer Rob Thomson, an egoless Canadian who turned the clubhouse over to Harper, Rhys Hoskins, and J.T Realmuto, to do with as they pleased — just as Charlie Manuel did with Rollins, Howard, and Utley, in 2007 and 2008.
“This team finally created their own culture,” Howard said. “That’s what teams have to do: Create their own culture. Create their own identity. And that’s what we had to do.”
No one had more to do with it than Howard.
When you’re That Guy, everything falls to you. Neither Howard nor anyone else who knew Harper in his first few years with the Nationals expected the guy with the wild hair and the abrasive personality — a Rookie of the Year at 19, and an MVP at 22, who routinely taunted opposing players and fans — to evolve into Wally Cleaver.
Harper has done just that. He’s everybody’s big brother inside the clubhouse, and he knows the fans are the entire point outside the clubhouse. It’s a lesson Howard learned from his predecessor, Jim Thome.
The face of the Phillies
“I think he’s fully embraced it,” Howard said. “He understands how everybody looks at him. And he understands that he’s ‘The Man.’”
But, as ”The Man,” isn’t Harper expected to win home run titles and MVP awards?
“He doesn’t put those expectations on himself. He has his own set of expectations for himself that align, or even exceed, those of everybody else,” Howard said. “You know what I mean? ‘Nobody can be harder on me than me.’”
Howard said that, like Harper, it took him a few empty Octobers to realize that hitting homers and getting big money were byproducts of winning baseball.
“You understand that you can’t play up to other people’s expectations,” Howard said. “If you do, then you’re not playing for the right reasons.”
Which means that instead of chasing numbers, you chase wins?
“Right. Anything less than what you want to accomplish, it’s, in a sense, a failure. He’s playing up to his expectations and not anyone else’s. And that’s what I’ve noticed in terms of growth.”
Teammates — especially younger teammates — notice that, Howard said.
“It’s really been fun to watch,” Howard said. “His growth around these younger guys — that’s being the leader. At the end of the day, I was just out here trying to win games.”
Howard shrugged.
“Now, so is he.”
