Philadelphia Phillies

The Philadelphia Phillies are one of the major league baseball teams that occupy Santiago's thoughts during his long ordeal at sea, serving as a reference point for his own endurance and a contrast to the greatness of Joe DiMaggio. Santiago's engagement with the Phillies is not that of a devoted fan but rather a strategic thinker who weighs teams against one another, using baseball as a mental discipline to keep his mind sharp and his spirits up while he battles the marlin.

Baseball as a Mental Anchor

For Santiago, baseball is more than a pastime; it is a lifeline to the world of men and a source of moral and tactical reflection. When the boy Manolin asks him about the game, Santiago confidently declares that the New York Yankees cannot lose, but he admits to fearing the Cleveland Indians. Manolin, in turn, confesses he fears both the Detroit Tigers and the Cleveland Indians. Santiago then warns him, "Be careful or you will fear even the Reds of Cincinnati and the White Sax of Chicago," a remark that playfully expands the list of potential threats to include the Phillies' National League rivals. This exchange reveals Santiago's comprehensive knowledge of the sport and his habit of ranking teams and players, a mental exercise that mirrors his own assessment of the fish he hunts. Later, alone on the sea, he thinks of the "Big Leagues, to him they were the Gran Ligas," and wonders whether the great DiMaggio would stay with a fish as long as he himself is staying with this one. He concludes, "I am sure he would and more since he is young and strong. Also his father was a fisherman." This comparison is not idle; it is a deliberate act of self-measurement, a way of placing his own struggle within a hierarchy of valor that includes the heroes of the baseball diamond.

The Phillies in the Context of the Great DiMaggio

Santiago's thoughts about the Phillies are always framed by his reverence for DiMaggio, the Yankees' star. When the boy asks about the greatest manager, Santiago dismisses the question by saying that if Leo Durocher had come to the Terrace more often, the boy's father would think him the greatest. This casual relativism underscores Santiago's belief that reputation is often a matter of proximity and familiarity. Yet DiMaggio stands apart; he is a symbol of perfection under duress, a man who performs flawlessly even with the pain of a bone spur in his heel. Santiago wonders, "What is a bone spur? ... Can it be as painful as the spur of a fighting cock in one's heel? I do not think I could endure that or the loss of the eye and of both eyes and continue to fight as the fighting cocks do." In this context, the Phillies are merely one of the many teams that populate the baseball landscape, a necessary part of the system that gives DiMaggio's greatness its meaning. They are the opposition, the benchmark against which the Yankees'—and by extension, DiMaggio's—superiority is measured.

The Phillies as a Symbol of the Wider World

Baseball, including the Phillies, also represents the world Santiago has left behind, a world of community, competition, and shared knowledge. On the Terrace, the fishermen discuss the game, and Santiago reads yesterday's newspaper to keep up with the scores. This connection to baseball is a form of companionship, a way of participating in a larger human story even when he is alone. After he has killed the marlin and is being attacked by sharks, he thinks, "I wonder how the great DiMaggio would have liked the way I hit him in the brain? It was no great thing, he thought. Any man could do it. But do you think my hands were as great a handicap as the bone spurs?" Here, the Phillies are absent, but the entire structure of baseball—its heroes, its pains, its standards of excellence—remains the framework through which Santiago judges his own performance. The Phillies, as a team, are part of that structure, a fixed point in the constellation of teams that Santiago uses to navigate his own sense of worth and achievement. They are not a major focus of his narrative, but they are a consistent element of the mental world he inhabits, a world where every man, whether fisherman or ballplayer, is ultimately measured by his ability to endure and to perform under pressure.