It’s French…bitch! Actually, bouncebackability is acceptable English, despite being concocted by Crystal Palace FC manager Iain Dowie to describe the facet that his team would need to display in order to survive in the English Premier League. His theory was that they’re going to get thumped on a regular basis, but will need to bounce back over and over again.
Ultimately, Iain Dowie’s side were unsuccessful, being dumped out of the Premiership because they were unable to hold the lead for the last 10 minutes of the last game, which happened to be against a heated rival. Sound familiar? My lifelong support of “the Palace” has lead me to experience numerous cockpunches of this nature, so perhaps you can understand my inability to shrug off the ball-stomping by Pooholes as quickly as some of you. You only follow the Astros; I follow two of them.
But no longer are the Astros hapless wannabees. They are the Killer Bees, and they are National League Champions.
The media has made much of the miracle comeback from 15 games under .500, and then almost universally pronounced the team DOA in STL after Game #5. It was inconceivable to them that all we’d seen was a death spasm from the 3rds, which is exactly what it turned out to be. They failed to show up for Game #6, and went gently into that good night.
Co-Fuck Yourself, St. Louis
I think we can also officially install the Jakes as the Astros’ #1 rival. The historic nemeses of the Dodgers were taken away by the division of the old NL West; the Mets and the Phillies really don’t cross our paths much any more; and the Braves have been laid to rest. We play the Jakes a fuck of a lot and we have beaten each other in back-to-back LCSs. We will lock up again in the regular season next year (eighteen fucking times) and it’s ridiculous to think that another clash in the LCS couldn’t happen.
But all this doesn’t mean I have respect for the Jakes. I hate them. I’m glad they were beaten. I’m glad that Shitstein; Comonds and Pooholes looked like crap in the 8th against Qualls. I’m glad that La Russa brainfucked his way through his pen and his bench while Gar looked on calmly as his players got the job done. I’m glad that Tavarez missed the batter’s box with a pitch; that Molina can’t be bothered to chase such pitches to the backstop; that Mulder crumbled under pressure; that Anaheim Jimmy has a hole in his glove; that Sanders is a train wreck in the outfield and can’t hit a half-decent fastball; that Albert Whojols’ Game #5 homer is now the sole highlight of the 3rds’ 2005 season, and that I won’t have to see his cocksucking sneer at the plate for another 5 months at least.
I’m glad the Astros shut down Busch Stadium, and that the BFiBs’ last memory of the place is an Astro-dogpile on their mound. I’m very glad because the 3rds stole from me the chance to celebrate this win properly: screaming my lungs out in MMPUS in Game #5. They stole that game, then failed to show up for the next one. Fuck you!
Glad All Over
I’m glad because the Rockitte has done what it set out to do. I’m glad because Drayton McLane has done what he set out to do. I’m glad because Roy Oswalt pitched the games he was born to pitch. I’m glad because Lance Berkman is one goofy bastard. I’m glad because Adam Everett is a much better all-round shortstop that Eckstein. I’m glad because Qualls had trouble last year and erased those memories this year. I’m glad because Brad Lidge is no shrinking violet and he will show this in the coming week. I’m glad because the country got to see the Astros, in all their flawed glory. I’m glad because the national media has locked on to MMPUS as being one of the most hostile places to visit in the playoffs.
I’m glad because two, unassuming, professional, classy, legendary gentlemen finally get to where they’ve deserved to go for over a decade.
If anyone thinks there’s any debate about the identity of the Astros’ DH this weekend (and next if it gets that far), then they’re mad. Just to prove how mad you would be, I give you Exhibit A – John Granato.
You see, I thought that I would check out Houston radio this morning to hear what was going on. Lots of Astros talk, I presumed, and I was mostly right. “The Animal” had the national ESPN radio feed (I think), and the chief blabbermouth was espousing how he otherwise wouldn’t bother to tune into the World Series if it wasn’t for the Rockitte, Bidge and Bags. His colleague was trying to point out that the identity of the players in the game is one reason why you watch, but he was having none of it. Apparently, he’d rather watch Tim Redding in a Yankmee uni than Roy Oswalt in an Astros’ one.
So I tried the flagship on 740. I didn’t recognise the voice of the player being interviewed, but they were talking about the terrible start to the season, the game at the weekend and the red unis. Then they mentioned the Colts. WTF? This is Texans talk?
[As an aside, Texans practice was shut down today due to an Anthrax scare. The players spotted an white powdery substance at Reliant Stadium during a practice session, and the club immediately called in the FBI. The Feds’ scientists were able to identify the white powder as the opponent’s goal line – something the Texans had rarely come across.]
The last resort was 610 and the self-proclaimed “Morons in the Morning”. They were talking about Bagwell DHing, and Granato was explaining how he has no record of getting “it” done. Of course, in order to justify his theory he first has to ignore 2004. With that post-season easily swept under the carpet, he looks back to 2001. Baggy’s record? “No RBIs”, says Genius John. 3 for 7 (.428 BA) says Lance. No ribs, says John. 5 walks says Lance (a .667 OBP for those playing at home). No ribs, counters John, his debating skills now fully on display.
It’s a shame that Academy and Oshmans were so busy today, because otherwise I would have bought a baseball bat, gone down to the 610 studios, and used it to break every bone in Granato’s body, from the toes up, while explaining to him that RBIs require teammates to be on base for you and the 5 walks were all in situations were there were runners to drive home. I know this because I watched that series and don’t have the brains of a goldfish.
It was back to the iPod.
There’s Only One Thing to Do…
Radio and TV, in general, sucks. Sports broadcasting especially so. Houston radio is gibbering pile of fuckwittery. ESPN has written off the Astros – Jayson Stark being the lone contrary voice it seems. Jeanie Zalasko’s contribution to the knowledge base is that all this proves is that games in May and June don’t matter. Bob Brenly can’t count how many lefties there are in the Astros’ pen. Thom Brennaman (sp?) can’t tell the Astros apart and Steve Lyons is the spokesperson for the Himbo nation.
Win the whole fucking thing! Please, for all of us who have to suffer through all of this shit just to be able to watch the Astros play baseball. Win it for Noe’s dad. Win it for Jim R. Win it even for HD who may be demented but is a fan. Win it so that Astros’ fans can talk about this for years to come and so that everyone else can shut the fuck up.
Win it for Biggio and Bagwell. They’ve earned it.