June 20, 2007
Astros 4, Los Anaheim Halos at Disney 8
W: Carrasco (2-1) | L: Borkowski (1-2)
The End is Near: 2,992 (0-5)
Bask in the Game Zone majesty (particularly, absorb the emotional transition between pages 12 and 14)
Discuss the possibility of carrying as many as 14 pitchers in the Talk Zone
Other coverage:
AP Recap
The Footer Recap
I want so badly to see a pitcher bat again
Beer league’s almost over, kids. Hang in there. Hang in there. The ‘Stros dropped the rubber game 8-4 with another 7th inning clusterfuck, marring a good outing by Wandy and a strong performance by Thunder Pants at the plate.
Gunther cranked an opposite field solo jack in the top of the first to start things off, swinging like nuts on an armpit high fastball over the plate from Santana. The Good Guys threatened to put together a big inning after a Flapjack walk and a Puddy double to the right field corner made it 2nd and 3rd with two down, but Clank popped up to end it.
In the Angeles’ half, Willits and Chode (not pronounced ‘shawd’) Figgins singled to open it, but Wandy hunkered down and got a ponché and a Vlad fly out to shallow right to keep it under control. Supplementaphile Garry Matthews, Jr. then hit a high, slow chopper back up the middle, and it looked like there wasn’t going to be a play anywhere. Figgins, who is an accommodating sort, jammed on the brakes right about where he should be sliding into 2nd, allowing Pigpen to field the bounder unmolested, and step on 2nd to end the frame. Just an absolutely baffling display of baserunning right there. Twinkie silently nodded in approval.
Brownie is possibly drunk
During the inning, JD alerts us that the evening’s Dodge Promotional Interlude shall feature one Morgan Ensberg discussing his greatest fear. Brownie chimes in, “this year, it might be hitting a line drive to the 3rd baseman.” ZING!!! Taste that pain, Iceberg! You just got snapped on by a guy who regularly wears short sleeve shirts with a tie. Later, Brownie would refer to something as a “Morgan Ensberg level of depression”, quickly adding a “just kidding” while writing in his notebook, “no, not really.”
In the top of the 2nd, the Ninja opened with a line single to center, and the Crimson Chin moved him up a bag with a 1-out single to right. After Bidge K’d swinging, Beaker rapped a 2-out grounder up the middle to plate Scott, and move Bruntlett to 3rd. Twinkie followed with another single, this one to right, bringing the Chin home for a 3-zip lead. Mixed in there, JD offered Brownie a $5 million payout on a $1 bet, declaring that Pigpen would – with absolute certainty – hit number 3,000 at home. Brownie pounced on the wager, and proceeded to spend the entire inning throwing out possible scenarios and laughing like an unhinged maniac. The more Jimmy grew nervous and backpedaled, the louder and more hysterical Brown’s laughter became. Clearly, he knows something.
Trimming the lead -or- Don’t step to the boater, son
With 2 down in the bottom of the 2nd, Napoli bounced a high chop down the line at 3rd, sending Lamb scrambling in. When the spinner hit the ground, it threw on its turn signal and made a hard left past Clank, tapping the bag on the way by for an infield single. Evans then yanked a 3-1 pitch into the seats in left center for his first ML yack, cutting the Halo deficit to 3-2. What appeared to be a barbershop quartet was dispatched post haste to negotiate the souvenir’s return by the fan who caught it. The cameras turned elsewhere, but I sincerely hope that fellow had the good sense to give the ball back without a fuss. You may think they’re all four-part harmonies and bygone-era wholesomeness, but dudes with waxed moustaches and straw boaters do not fucking play. They will absolutely fucking end you if you don’t watch your step, especially the tenors. Seriously, I once saw an Astroworld funnel cake vendor in a candy-striped vest snap some guy’s neck for looking sideways at him. That’s no shit.
In the 4th, Bruntlett singled to right with one down. Pigpen rolled one to short, but busted his ass down the line to just beat out the DP, keeping the inning alive for one more out. Bidge then got a huuuuuge jump on a drowsy Santana, easily swiping second to get set for the score. Pence obliged, nailing another one back through the middle for his third RBI at-bat in 3 tries. 4-2, Good Guys.
Angel Fucking Hernandez
Shit got lively leading off the bottom of the 6th, when Wandy threw strike 3 to the Chode, but Angel Hernandez – who is a renowned toolbox – determined that it was actually ball 2. Wandy gave him some body language, and maybe a little lip, which was not well-received by Hernandez. Angel ambled out of the box to open a dialog with the young pitcher, but was intercepted by Scrap Iron for a friendly chat. No sooner had Scraps headed back towards the dugout, Angel Hernandez – who is a renowned felching enthusiast – bullied his way to the mound to get in Wandy’s face. Gar charged back into the mix to emphatically suggest that Angel get the fuck away from his pitcher, then rode his bitch ass all the way back to the dish. Angel Hernandez – who is a renowned taint-sniffing cocksmoker – reluctantly acquiesced to Garner’s demands. Scioscia then wanted Wandy pulled on account of 2 visits by Garner (no dice), Scraps wanted to not be charged with any visits at all (no dice), and about an hour later the Figgins at-bat ended with a single up the middle, ending a string of 10 straight outs by Wandy since the Evans jack.
The Crimson Chin made a nice play to his right and gunned down Cabrera at 1st, with Figgins going to 2nd. Wandy got in on Vlad and induced a pop-up behind 3rd, two down. Matthews cracked a blistering grounder to 3rd that Lamb was able to knock down and keep in front of him, but with the only force being at first, it was unlikely that there was going to be an out secured. Amazingly, for the second time in the game, Chode was there with the big assist, running directly to Lamb. After a brief scramble back towards second, Figgins was tagged out, and the inning was finally over with no damage.
In the top of the 7th, we finally discovered that Moberg’s biggest fear is… the world. The one we live in. The whole thing.
Oh shit, not again
In the bottom of the frame, Kendrick poked a 1-out broken bat grounder up the middle, which Bruntlett made a great play on, sprinting to his left. The throw to first went a hair wide of Berkman, though, and the Chin got slapped with a tough error. Kendrick meandered leisurely back to 1st after turning, and was damn near tagged out by Ausmus who retrieved the ball off of the carom. So close. Napoli followed with a walk, and Garner pulled Wandy after a solid 6.1 in favor of Bork. From there, it went poorly. Bork walked Evans to load them up, and we’re at Defcon 4 with 1 down and no one able to get anywhere near Angel Fucking Hernandez’z mysterious and miniscule strike zone. Willits stepped in to bat lefty, and Ausmus politely informed him that he was wearing the wrong helmet. The dickhead then worked an RBI walk as a show of gratitude. I hope Ausmus punched him in his unprotected ear later on in the inning. Bork then knotted it on a 4 pitch walk to Chode, and the brief tie disappeared with a broken bat Cabrera sac fly to a hustling Lee in left. Bork never did get his control, and wound up hanging a high slider over the plate that Vlad mauled for a 3-run cracker to deep center, ending Bork’s little adventure, and sending roughly half of the GZ to bed. Pussies. Randolph came in, and got Matthews swinging to end it, putting a tidy bow on the 6-run, 1-hit inning, with the Astros now in an 8-4 hole. Wow. That seems even more goddamned ridiculous now that I’ve had a chance to go over it again. Moving on.
The Good Guys did some serious noise-making in the top of the 8th agin Shields, beginning with Loretta lining a single to right. Clank found a hole on the right side, and it was 1st and 2nd, no outs. Scott drilled one out to left center, but Matthews was there, one down. Ausmus knocked a single to right, and there were Astros everywhere, pain train’s a’comin’ WOO WOO! Unfortunately, the pain train derailed when Bruntlett K’d looking, and Bidge followed with a swinging ponché on – wait for it, wait for it – a breaking ball away. Cue disappointed trombone slide. It didn’t get any better in the 9th, as Frank Rodriguez plowed through Gunther, Twinkie and El Kabong to nail down the win and the series.
Frustrating stuff, as the ‘Stros were two fucked up innings away from sweeping one of the best teams in baseball in their own crib. But it’s those two innings that make them one of the best teams in baseball, plus Angel Hernandez is a giant gash. Sorry, that was a touch of non-sequitur, but I wasn’t sure where else to work it in. Today’s a day off to travel to Arlington in search of some sort of boot. Mercifully, Corky the Clown got his tainted* 600th out of the way on the Cubs’ dime, which is wholly appropriate. Now, we can chuckle at his flubber-filled bat antics and wacky honking nose without fear of an Astros’ pitcher being another footnote in his ridiculous history. Look for big things from Gunther in his hometown return, something like 12-13 with 48 RBI and a sweep. Go get ’em, you magnificent sumbitch.
* If you sense that I’m going out of my way to include uses of the word ‘taint’, then you’ve got your head in the game. I like your hustle.