Hate 'em or love 'em, these gritty Phillies are something else

PHILADELPHIA -- One Dodger was going over the possibilities and permutations following the heartbreaking Jimmy Rollins-authored 5-4 Game 4 defeat that left Los Angeles on the cusp of elimination, and that Dodger mentioned having to win a game here in Philly, then two more back in L.A. Then that Dodger mentioned having to beat Cliff Lee, who they couldn't touch, if they even get to a Game 7.

"It's going to be tough," the Dodger concluded. "This (Dodger) team, it's not like that one."

In other words, the Dodgers are no Phillies.

But who is?

That Dodger's comments were not intended as a knock on his own team but rather as high praise for a reigning world champion that appears determined to make it two straight trophies -- or, dare we say it -- to form a dynasty. The Dodgers are one loose and fun bunch; a youthful, happy go lucky team where goofy Manny is considered the sage veteran among those who play, and they aren't apt to tighten up. And that's not a bad thing, either.

But the Phillies are something else entirely. They are a tough team that only quickly transforms into a killer -- but only when it has to.

They are one tough bunch, team that can't be put away or stamped out.

Pedro Martinez summed up his new Phillies team in five well-chosen words: "A pain in the neck."

When the Phillies are down, that's when they rise. When any of the other teams in the NL East drew anywhere near close this season, that's when they pulled away. They are one supremely confident team, and that faith didn't just come from last year's trophy.

They are intense, and can even be ornery. But they are good to each other, and when one of them steps out of line, as Cole Hamels did when he threw up his hands over a Chase Utley throwing error in Game 1, they stick together. Nobody in the Phillies' locker room uttered a word out loud against Hamels even though he committed the cardinal sin for a pitcher.