Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Astros 7
Snakes 8
W: Medders (1-0) | L: Borkowski (0-2) | S: Lyon (9)
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Fateful Game Zone
A getaway game that had all the makings of an early laugher for the Good Guys wound up unraveling horribly, thanks to one of the most thorough and continuous karmafuckings ever perpetrated within the confines of the GZ. Bear witness…
The Sea Hag was in trouble right out of the gate, as Pence, Matsui, Tejada and Berkman went single, K, single, single to start the game with a 1 run lead and 2 on with 1 out. Then Flapjack got an 0-1 slider he liked, and KABONG! it’s a 4-nothing lead before you could say, “I hope nothing terrible happens.”
In the bottom of the first, Young lead off with a single, and scored two batters later on Hudson’s double to deep, deep center (that is one big fucking outfield). After Jackson K’d for the second out, Upton ripped a double past third to plate Hudson and trim it to 4-2.
The boys answered right back in the top of the second, though, opening with Bradley “Dreamboat” Ausmus rapping a double off of Johnson to get it going. Chacon followed with a sac-cum-single (heh heh heh) that snuggled up to the chalk on the third base line under the watchful gaze of Mr. Peepers. A Thunderpants single made it 5-2, ahead of a Matsui sac bunt and a dribbler to 3rd by the Torpedo Boat that loaded them up with 1 out. Twinkie grounded up the middle, but Drew and Hudson couldn’t get together on the DP, and the awkward, bouncing throw allowed Berkman to leg it out as the 6th run came across.
After a couple of relatively calm half-innings, the first lugnut got loose from the wheels in the bottom of the third, when the Snakes took one back with a Jackson bolt into the second row in left, making it 6-3.
The ‘Stros went quietly in their next AB, three up and down at the top of the order.
In the bottom of the 4th, Drew lead off with a lineout to Maybelline…
…before Chacon walked Peepers after starting ahead in the count. Montero pushed Burke to third with a single up the gut, and Salazar — pinch-hitting for Sea Hag — plated him with a double over Spaz in right. Montero moved to thrid on the hit, and later scored on a groundout by Young, bringing them within a run at 6-5.
In the top of the 6th, Chacon was lifted for Erstad to hit, who responded by coaxing a 1-out walk.
“Leaves with a chance for a win. Also a first for Chacon, I believe.”
Drew handled a grounder from Pence like someone threw a flaming beehive at him, and there were runners on 2nd and 3rd with 1 down. Kaz then lifted a solid fly to deep right to bring Esrtad home, adding a not-quite-enough-insurance run for the 7-5 lead.
Diminutive fan favorite Wesley Wright took the hill for the bottom of the frame, and was greeted by a double off the bat of Drew, who had apparently recovered from the vicious attack he suffered just minutes earlier. Wright recovered with a ponche of Peepers and a flyout from Montero, but when pinch-hitter-pitcher Owings was announced, Coop gave in to his urges for hot righty on righty action, calling on Borkowski to get the last out. That’s exactly where the last lugnut spun off, and wheels went fucking everywhere.
Before there was even a chance to finish an image search on the Google, Owings took the first pitch and crushed it into the right field bullpen for the tie. Not content with that, Young followed with a double, and scored the go-ahead run on a Byrne single, before Hudson mercifully ended the inning with a swinging K. 8-7, Snakes.
Qualls mowed through his old team again in the top of the 7th, while Geary kept the Snakes at bay in bottom half. Pena came on for the top of the 8th, and Ausmus singled with one down by hitting it to the underrated Burke at third, who has proved himself equally incapable at nearly every position on the diamond in his career to date.
Bourn came in to run, and Blum stepped in to hit for Geary, nearly prompting me to ping resident trivialogist mihoba to find out when the last Geoff/Geoff substitution had taken place in the MLB. There was no time, though, because Blum flied out on the first pitch while Bourn tried to steal. That’s exactly what you’re looking for in that AB. Solid strategy. Gunther ponched to end the frame, with Bourn still standing on 1st.
Brocail again chewed up Snake batters with that enormous jaw in the bottom of the 8th, running through his 3 after inheriting Byrdak’s man at 2nd, setting up the last gasp for the Good Guys.
Kaz started it off against Lyon with a single to right, followed by a Tejada K. Kaz stole 2nd and Twinkie walked, but Flapjack flied out to center, leaving the game in the capable hands of…
Aw, shit.
With no real options left on the bench, Coop had to stick with Cruz, Jr., whose average had already dipped well below the Men Dozing Line. He could do nothing with Lyon’s fastball, and it was unfortunately a small victory that it was even put into play, settling harmlessly into Young’s glove in CF for the final out.
After a clusterfuck of that order, the clubhouse was understandably tense after the game. But if we all do our part, and make suitable contrition to the BBGs, this does not have to be the point where everything goes south for the season. This can instead be the low point, the bumping of the ass against the rough earth of failure, a point from which we rebound as fans and observers of the team. Go. Pull for your Astros, early and often. Get your yardwork in order. Wear an offering of burnt chicken as a sunbonnet while you do it. Kick a Limey in the balls. I don’t give a fuck, just find some way to do your share in making sure that this team does not sink any deeper than 3 below .500 for the rest of the year. The Brewers are up next, and this shit stops here and now, MFers. You’re either with us, or you’re agin us. Pick a side.
Me? Well, I’ll be in my bunk with Burke, pulling for the Astros.