Well, it’s come to this: two teams playing out the string, still enmeshed in less than stellar seasons, trotting out before sparse and lethargic spatterings of fans, still packing and unpacking for trips to Nowhere, or in this case, The Big Nowhere in Ohio, and wondering how in the world it all went to hell this bad. And, ladies and gentlemen, one of these teams is your 2009 Houston Astros. The eternal optimism of spring has given way to the warm bucket of shit of late summer–speaking of which, does anyone else think that the logo on the Wyoming Cowboys helmets looks like someone wiped their ass on it prior to kickoff? No? I guess that’s just me. Anyway, you know the score by now: an erratic pitching staff, sputtering offense (note the correct spelling, Limey) and so-so defense has our team sitting here at 70-73 on September 14th. “90 wins,” Cooper? No, but they’d probably be ten wins better without you along. While to some extent interesting, it’s been mostly sad and exasperating to watch a career baseball man do and say things that just aren’t said and done at this level–at least not in the light of day. Had McLane canned him during the season, he’d be finished in baseball after a season full of snafus. At least now, he’ll get to do the Art Howe gig for the Brewers FSN affiliate next year. Good luck, Cecil and you’ll be pleased to know they have Costcos in Milwaukee.
Astrosmanager, Cecil Cooper with general manger, Ed Wade in background
Monday, 6:10pm
Wandy Rodriguez, (13-9, 2.76) v. Bronson Arroyo, RHP (12-12, 4.17)
Helluva a year for Wandy–he finally broke out and he did it in a big way. Not a bad record and that 2.76 ERA says a lot. He’s been dominant against the Reds this season (0.50 ERA) and he’s coming off a seven inning three hit performance against the Braves. He has clearly established himself as a solid #2 in any team’s starting rotation. Too bad the guys on both sides of him didn’t hold up their end of the deal. Arroyo has eaten innings like it is going out of style and is on dope. Just ask him. He essentially told the world (and Bud Selig) “Yeah, I like to take a lot of shit and it makes me play better. What the fuck are you going to do about it?” Bud got flushed and fanned himself and called for a UN resolution condemning good dope but that’s about it. So, you should see Wandy and Bronson for a good portion of the game and at least one of them will hitting the HGH pipe between innings.
Tuesday, 6:10pm
Roy Oswalt, (9-6, 4.03) v. Kip Wells, RHP (1-4, 5.21)
Oswalt is pining for Jake and yearns to be on the ranch “hunting” with his best bud. There’s really no other reason to explain the highly mediocre year that Roy has turned in. He’s had his usual share of nicks and gimps but it’s still a head scratcher trying to figure out why the same guy who can go out and dominate one night, can five nights later look highly unbalanced. I guess the cap on Roy’s season is that he has no decisions against the Reds this year, a team he has owned like no pitcher has ever owned a club. Time to break one off, Roy. You know, for old time’s sake. He’s going against Kip Wells, a Baylor type who probably sits around all day flipping channels between Robert Tilton and tranny porn. Roy, if you can’t beat this guy, go ahead and head for the ranch–Jake’s got the tent warm.
Veteran pitchers, Roy Oswalt and Jake Peavy proclaim "no quit" in either.
Wednesday, 6:10pm
Bud Norris, (5-3, 5.44) v. Justin Lehr, RHP (4-2, 4.93
Norris is having a typical rookie campaign–some good games, some dumb luck games, some games getting his ass handed to him. What’s his upside? Don’t know–haven’t heard anyone call him Drysdale but he’s probably going to be part of your 2010 rotation based on what the club has and what they can get over the winter. Not having to listen to Cooper will do doubt help him but probably doesn’t make him a 20 game winner. Lehr is right handed, pitches for the Reds, and likes screwing goats, humming “The Internationale” during the Star Spangled Banner, and enjoys kicking old people in the groin. If Norris can’t get up for this game, then he’s a goddamn pansy.
Injury Report
Arias: strained right hamstring. Learning the harpsichord.
Blum: bruised shin and tired of all this shit. Fondling plane tickets to Hawaii every hour on the hour.
Astros infielder, Geoff Blum declares, "Aw, fuck this shit!"
Hampton: fucked up beyond hope. Currently on the live dissection table at the UT Medical Center in Galveston.
Oswalt: lower back tightness. Yeah, you get that from hours and hours spent working on your website, Mr. 44. Now, go throw the goddamn ball.
REDS:
Thirteen (13) guys on the DL including Taveras, Harang, Volquez, and Nix. Did the team bus hit a fucking IED in Pittsburgh?
Reds team bus after IED explosion in Pittsburgh
Promotions
Tuesday: “Bark in the Park” night. This means you get to bring your goddamn yappy-assed dog to the game. Frankly, it’s probably a good idea all the way around: the dogs won’t know they’re watching two shitty teams and will get the opportunity to take a dump in one of the ugliest parks in America. The fans will have the privilege of watching some hapless clod slip on a fresh pile, while wearing a Joe Morgan throwback. What could be better? Pete Rose would be laughing his ass off before hurriedly getting back to marking off his prop bets.
Wednesday: “Senior Citizens Specials.” In the middle of the fifth, two lucky old people will get to do the old put the head on the bat and spin around before running to first base. Both will probably die. A living winner will get year’s supply of liver from the local Armour plant. Otherwise, if you’re sixty or above, you get a firm handshake and a half off coupon at SAS. Nothing looks snappier in Cincy than some of those taupe colored velcro strapped loafers. Ask JimR.
Final Thoughts
My last preview of the year (all have come at EXACTLY the same time as a work or family issue was developing). I’m sure you’ll thank me for their relative brevity, lack of father/son baseball as a metaphor for life melodramatic bullshit, and the fact that I have managed to keep you somewhat abreast of the minimal facts of the series at hand and the goings on with team president, Pam Gardner. Just trying to be of help.
Astros team president, Pam Gardner (source: 2009 Astros Press Guide)
Though our team isn’t going to be in the post season where we want them (you may need to get used to that for a while), this is nevertheless a fantastic time of year–football is back, Texas is beginning to cool to somewhere under 100 degrees, you can shoot harmless migratory birds with glee and wild abandon and eat them, the bratty assed kids are back in school allowing you to sneak home for a nooner with your significant other or others, and you can soon look up into that brilliant harvest (we called it Comanche) moon while you’re taking a leak through the hedges into your neighbor’s back yard.
I played golf with Lurch and austro the other day, and afterwards we had lunch and played cards. Lurch cheats at Texas Hold ’em and bangs cocktail waitresses two at a time. austro is a goddamn Rice grad and was formerly a carney. What the fuck are the odds on shit like that? There should be a fucking hall or at least a goddamn monument at fucking Rice dedicated to Rice carneys. He can break down a carney tent, fuck people over in that fucking milk bottle game, and then go do fucking trigonometry. He’s a pretty good putter, too. Fucker.
Goodbye 2009 season, goodbye Cecil, goodbye lots of old guys, and goodbye listening to J.D. and Brownie until we meet again. Sometimes, it’s not all fun, but looking at this site now and then seldom gets old. I think I speak for a lot of us when I give a big “Gracias” and a hearty whatever to the men and women who make this site what it is.
Adios, amigos. Pound that Budweiser.
Astrosteam president, Pam Garner with unidentified team official during "official dress uniform day" at team headquarters.