These fans made a ‘Declaration of Independence’ urging the Phillies to re-sign Kyle Schwarber. It gave him goosebumps.

Kyle Schwarber doesn’t love accolades. Ask him about the records he’s broken, and he will shrug them off. Hand him an award, and he will accept it unassumingly.

The Phillies designated hitter is much more comfortable shining a light on others than on himself, but unfortunately for Schwarber, this has become increasingly difficult.

He has hit 45 home runs through 127 games. His name appears on lists with some of the most prolific home run hitters in baseball history: Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Mike Schmidt, and Ryan Howard.

Schwarber’s historic season — projected to end in 59 home runs, which would set a new Phillies single-season record — has brought on a lot of attention, especially ahead of his impending free agency. Normally, he doesn’t give it much focus.

But on Tuesday afternoon, Schwarber received an accolade that even he could appreciate. It was not a shiny trophy or a sparkling plaque, but rather, a dusty piece of poster board, curled up in the camera well at Citizens Bank Park.

Two Phillies fans from Pottsville, Rebecca Hummel and McKenzie Buehner, pushed it into the dugout on Aug. 2. Like a message in a bottle, they hoped it would make its way to Schwarber.

After seeing the sign on social media, I contacted Hummel and Buehner, assuming that it was lost to history. But when I arrived at the ballpark on Tuesday to cover the Phillies game, bat boy Adam Crognale was able to locate it.

He surmised that a member of the cleaning crew had moved the poster under the dugout roof. It rained six times in Philadelphia over that 17-day span, but the sign was still there, remarkably intact, on top of a breaker box.

I mentioned this to Schwarber, who asked to see it.

» READ MORE: José Alvarado is ‘happy to be back with my teammates’ after Phillies reinstate the reliever

On the left side was a mock-up of the Declaration of Independence. On the right was a photo of the Phillies DH, mid-swing, with a cannon in the bottom right-hand corner.

“We the People of Philadelphia didn’t fight the British just to lose Schwarber,” the sign read. “#Re-sign Schwarbombs.”

The poster was signed by hundreds of fans and ballpark employees who were at the game on Aug. 2: hot dog vendors, police officers, grounds crew, ushers.

Schwarber looked at it for a few seconds. He pointed to the goosebumps on his arm.

“I think as a player, when you sign somewhere, you don’t expect things like that,” he said. “You come in and try to leave your mark. And you hopefully leave a good enough impression that it works out that you’re able to come back.

“But I’ve seen the business side of things, right? I know that sometimes hopes and aspirations don’t turn out to be what reality is.”

Schwarber added: “But it’s looking back at when I signed here in 2022, and seeing where you’re at now. The accumulation of work. The things that have made me better. You think about your kids. You sign here, and have your first kid, and then you have two, and your third one on the way.

“A lot of [those life events] have happened here. And then you see this from the people who’ve watched you. They don’t pay your salary but they’re a big reason why you’re here. To see them appreciate what you do? That’s why you get goosebumps.”

» READ MORE: Nick Castellanos is part of the Phillies’ outfield ‘rotation’

Schwarber was not born in Philadelphia, but in many ways, he embodies the city.

The DH hails from blue-collar Middletown, Ohio, an area known more for its steel than its baseball players. His father, Greg, was a police officer, and his mother, Donna, a registered nurse.

Despite all of Schwarber’s accomplishments, Middletown’s residents say their hometown slugger is still the same guy.

Micah Nori, the father of Phillies prospect Dante Nori, has a close relationship with Schwarber. Micah’s 82-year-old father, Fred, coached Schwarber when he was a college athlete at Indiana University.

Fred and his wife, Sani, still live in Middletown. Whenever Schwarber is home, during the winter, he will regularly plow and shovel snow off their driveway.

It has become such a routine that last year, Schwarber purposefully took Fred’s shovel away from him so he wouldn’t be tempted to use it.

“They’ve got a pretty-good sized driveway, maybe 50 yards, with a turnaround in it,” Micah said. “And my mom hears something at like, nine in the morning, a snowplow. Kyle’s on his gator.

“Doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t do stuff for credit.”

This is who Schwarber is: A salt-of-the-earth, grounded guy. So, it should come as no surprise that Hummel and Buehner’s heartfelt gesture — full of dirt and cobwebs after weeks in the camera well — was one that resonated.

When they brought the Declaration ($25 on Amazon) to the ballpark on Aug. 2, the two Pottsville natives weren’t sure what to expect. But they quickly got an idea.

People began asking for photos with the poster. One woman asked if she could sign it, and then offered Hummel and Buehner her pen.

“Keep it,” she told them. “Get as many signatures as you can.”

By the third inning, they had run of out ink (and space). A few fans offered up their black and blue Sharpies. Hummel and Buehner started walking up and down the aisles, taking laps around the concourse.

Before long, they went viral on X (formerly Twitter) and TikTok. Fans showed up to their section, looking for them, only to realize that the two women were still out and about, passing their sign around.

Around the third inning, a few members of the grounds crew spotted Hummel and Buehner. They waved them over, and through the netting, added their signatures.

“We couldn’t move,” Buehner said. “We kept getting stopped and stopped and stopped.”

“My all time favorite was this woman from Ireland,” Hummel said. “She stopped us, and was like, ‘[Expletive] the British. Of course, I’ll sign your Declaration of Independence.’”

By the end of the game, the sign had hundreds of signatures. The two friends realized that they had inadvertently tapped into something big — a catharsis for Phillies fans who desperately wanted Schwarber to stay.

They decided he should see it, and asked a ballpark employee if it could be delivered to him. He said no.

So, Hummel did what any reasonable Philadelphian would do: she rolled up the Declaration, pushed back the netting, and tossed it into the Phillies dugout.

Seventeen days later, it made its way to Schwarber, who treated it like the most valuable trophy of all.