Outside Philadelphia's Shibe Park last week, a newspaper delivery truck screeched to a stop. The driver dumped his papers and grinned, "What's going on around here, a World Series?" He knew the answer, and so did nearly everybody else in Philadelphia: the team that had been moribund for 28 years,* and in eighth place in the National League for seven out of eight years, was suddenly the livest thing in baseball.
A year ago, a crowd of 800 dead-end loyalists in the stands was good. One night last week, there were 20,000 cash customers left...
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