To break the trend of previous MVP Award recipients, I have decided to increase my presence on the site rather than disappear into the miasma. Kev and Scott have foolishly granted me this corner of AstrosConnection forever England, and I intend to use it. At least twice.
What can you expect? Well, there’ll be shite-loads of nugatory humor, exegeses on all things Euro, fuliginous pop culture references, catechization of the Astros and grandiloquence out the ying-yang.
Let’s start with the Astros, shall we? For almost the entire off-season, all we’d seen the club do is say “TTFN” to some talented, some not so talented but useful, some talented, useful but injury tainted free agents?and Scott Servais. In return they gave us cult hero C.J., fellow Meaty-Cheesy Boy T.J. and a bunch of never-wases like Tripp Cromer. Interestingly, I have it on good authority that Adam Everett and Tripp Cromer can stand under the same shower without touching each other (NTTAWWT) and without either of them getting wet.
Then, quicker than you can say “Shoe Bomber”, Hunsicker and McLane pounce on a couple of name players like stewardesses on a Jamaican-Englishman with athletes foot. “I was only trying to scratch my toes,” said a bewildered Lance Berkman when questioned later. Biff! Sock! Pow! $37.5mm of Drayton’s wonga gets committed, and the Astros have gone backwards while spending more money. Don’t ya just love baseball economics! “Something D-O-O economics” is how Ben Stein once described it.
“What do you think, Limey?” is the question furthest from your mind. But I have a microphone, so you will listen to every word I say! I think that the Wagner contract was fueled as much by the need to avoid negative criticism as by the need to keep at least one lefty on the major league roster. $9mm a year? Crikey! Wagner’s a fine pitcher, of course, albeit with a Lalooshian penchant for ill-advisedly challenging hitters (see Giles, Brian). My concern over this contract is that it may impact the future retention of some of the stud-kids with which the Astros are currently blessed. This is very glass half empty thinking, but I’m English and this is what we do. Thinking outside of (my) box, if Wagner’s contract is getting in the way in the future he’ll be a very attractive rental to some big spending contender.
Lance Berkman is an easier call to make. Essentially, the Astros have avoided arbitration with him for a few years, will retain control of him once this contract is over and will pay him a fraction of the going rate for a free agent of similar abilities. What’s more, Lance is more chuffed than Thomas the Tank Engine about it all. Berkman is an owner’s dream. Unbounded talent, squeaky clean family man image, hard working, a team player and white! (Hey! Who let HD in here?) If he doesn’t get the same career Astro treatment as Biggio and Bagwell, then McLane ought to be strung up by his skinny ‘neck. Berkman is well on the way to becoming an Astro worthy of the “Killer B” tag – for proof, look no further than his 0.167 post-season batting average, all singles.
Spring Training is closing in on us like a glacier driving its Volvo to church on Sunday. Plenty of questions remain, most of them orbiting around the aforementioned crop of youngsters. All that we can do is sit and wait. And drink, oh yes, drink.
For us estranged Limeys, we are entering a special time of the year. Six-Nations Rugby is upon us. Not only is it joyous to watch our lads cuff the Celts like Braveheart played backwards, but we have an excuse to start drinking at about 8.00am through ’til mid-afternoon. For six glorious Saturday mornings we get to be our own men. For months thereafter, we get to pay for it at home. England’s opening fixture was an “Old Firm” rivalry against the Scots. The (now) professional game has left Scotland lagging – and they were manhandled on their own turf to the tune of 3-29. Next up, last year’s party-poopers Ireland.
Fashion news: This week, I shall be mostly wearing Stella McCartney.
Obligatory SuperBowl Take: I was glad to see the Patriots win. Not just because they’re from New Limeyland, but because I really didn’t want to see another post-game interview with Kurt Warner. Controversial praise to a Lord and Savior was notably absent this year. The Patriots entered the field as a team, played as a team and eventually won as a team. God, it seems, was happy to let this one work itself out without his interference.
Call me an infidel, but it seems pretty arrogant to me to think that any deity really gives a monkey’s whether you win a football game or not. Unless, of course, he’s taken your team plus the points.