Luke Butler’s introduction to the idiosyncrasies of Phillies fans came on Aug. 10, 1999. He was 11 years old, sitting in the upper bowl of Veterans Stadium with his mother, Martha, and one of her friends.
The two women were there to see Mark McGwire, but Butler was locked in on another St. Louis Cardinal. Or rather, what spectators were throwing at him.
It was J.D. Drew’s first game in Philadelphia since he’d rejected the Phillies’ attempts to sign him in 1997, choosing instead to reenter the MLB draft the following year.
While roaming center field in the eighth inning, an irate Philadelphian flung a roll of toilet paper in Drew’s direction. Then, another irate Philadelphian hurled two D-cell batteries.
The middle schooler was understandably unsettled. Nevertheless, the moment stuck.
“The spunky surreality of being a Phillies fan … I feel like the seeds were really planted on that night,” he said.
Butler’s awareness of his comrades’ quirks only increased from there. As he grew up around the Vet, and eventually, Citizens Bank Park, he continued to witness fan groups like the Wolf Pack and Padilla Flotilla.
Once, in 2004, Butler and his friends wore matching yellow T-shirts that said “Keith Jones, Corn Boy” on the front, as a nod to the WIP Morning Show host who had a farm in South Jersey.
This group was a little too obscure to become popular. But 22 years later, during the team’s most recent homestand, Butler’s maize-fueled fandom finally caught on.
It all started with the Field of Dreams Game in Dyersville, Iowa. Butler, watching at home in Mt. Airy, was captivated by its cinematic elements.
The stalks seemed to have a sagelike effect; after back-to-back losing series, the Phillies were suddenly playing as well as ever.
Once the team won their next two games in Minnesota, superstitious fans joked about bringing corn to the ballpark. Butler was one of the few who actually did.
“You could say my relationship with corn and the Phillies is actually like 20 years old,” he said. “We didn’t bring corn [in 2004]. But this was an extension of that, you could say.”
Butler, who works for the city’s health department, stopped at Reading Terminal Market before last Monday’s game against the Marlins. He bought an 80-cent ear from Iovine Brothers, tucked it into his bag, next to his score book, and drove to South Philly.
The security guards at the gate on Darien Street played along.
“The guy searching my bag was like, ‘Oh man, I got to take your ear of corn,’” Butler recalled. “And I was just like, ‘All right, well, the bit is up.’ And then he just looks at me, and he’s like, ‘I’m just messing with you. You’re good.’”
Less-online fans were predictably confused by Butler’s husked talisman. But the Phillies edged the Marlins, 6-5, despite a late rally from Miami, so the fan decided to bring it back on Tuesday.
This tradition continued for the entire six-game homestand. Butler was at the ballpark every day, corn in hand, often bringing extra ears for friends and family. He said he would wave the corn during pivotal moments, “like a smudge stick or a sage,” and just “rattle it around.”
The 38-year-old views the Phillies’ recent nine-game winning streak as proof of concept. His most compelling example came in the ninth inning of Sunday afternoon’s game.
Butler, his friends, and his mother were standing in front of Ashburn Alley, pointing the maize toward home plate. They watched as Bryce Harper doubled, J.T. Realmuto singled, Justin Crawford walked, and Edmundo Sosa drove them all home with a two-out double.
Then, Schwarber provided a finale too good to be scripted. As he stepped up to the plate, Butler lifted his ear to the sky, and yelled, “Kyle, hit it to the corn!”
The Phillies slugger obliged, crushing a 459-foot walk-off home run that cleared the batter’s eye, to cap a 6-4 win against St. Louis.
“It looked like a howitzer,” Butler said. “We were all fist-pumping the corn and jumping. It was a little — obviously can’t say it full-on — but it was a little like ‘Bedlam at the Bank.’ Pandemonium.”
As the crowd dispersed, Butler walked to the railing overlooking the bushes and trees. He bent over, peered between the bars, and tossed the ear into the batter’s eye.
“It was weary,” Butler said. “It was asking to go. But it also felt like, this wild, amazing energy of this streak connected to the Field of Dreams; now that ear of corn is always in the trees.
“We’ll have more [corn]. We’ll have fun with it. We’ll let it grow and evolve as it wants. But the original one is [there].”
He left his two other ears at the grave site of longtime broadcaster Harry Kalas in Laurel Hill Cemetery, to commemorate a “magical homestand that he would have loved.”
The lifelong Phillies fan was hoping his team would continue its winning streak out west, and offered to bring a “U-Haul full to the brim with corn” if they did.
Unfortunately for Butler, they dropped two games in Seattle, before winning the series finale on Wednesday afternoon.
But regardless of what happens throughout the rest of this Phillies road trip, Butler will be back at Citizens Bank Park next homestand, armed with his favorite vegetable.
And who knows? Perhaps that original ear will live on; a symbolic slice of heaven, far from Iowa.
“The dream would be that the seeds are fertilized,” Butler said. “And that next summer, people are like, ‘How in the hell is there corn growing in center field?’”
