So Dennis Green was right. They are who we thought they were. Despite hot streaks and hopeful signs, this just ain’t a good baseball team. Getting beat on the road is to be expected, to a certain extent; being made the Royals’ new ugly girlfriends, well, that’s just low. What’s the salve that cures a hurt like that? May I interest you in some 107-proof Hate?
Half of the fun of being a sports fan is hating other teams. Cubs, Cards, Yanks, Mets, Braves, Giants: I have hate on both coasts and several places in between. But in those cases, the geography is pretty much incidental. I’ve been to all of those cities, and had no worse than a “pretty good” time at each. Hell, Chicago is near the top of the very small list of cities I’d consider relocating to if necessary. I hate the teams and fanbases, not the cities.
And then there’s Dallas.
Asa lifelong Houstonian, Dallas has always been the city I hated. Hated the nonsensical highways that don’t follow any particular point of the compass, just meander off into the prairie like a damned elephant going off to die. The women. Oh lord the women. I can’t imagine why they haven’t all collapsed in a heap, crippled by the vertigo from looking so far down their noses at everyone else. I like that my wife doesn’t wear pearls to the H-E-B, you harpies. My family who lived in “Dallas” actually lived so far north that they were in a different area code, but they were claiming Big D at every fucking chance. Moreover, you’re so close to Oklahoma that you smell like cattle shit and unemployment. Your underachieving bullshit baseball franchise is exactly what you deserve. Tom Hicks isn’t just the owner of the Metroplex’s baseball team: he IS the Metroplex. Overpriced, leveraged to Hell and back, and just interesting in shiny things, like A-Rod’s butthole.
And I’m quite aware that the Ballpark is in Arlington, and that some of our fine posters hail from Dallas, but I wouldn’t want anything small like facts to get in the way of the hate that I’ve treasured since I was a tyke. And seriously, get the hell out of there before everything becomes one big RA Sushi.
Friday, June 18
7:05 CT, MMPUS
Scott Feldman (4-6, 5.28) v. Wandy “2007” Rodriguez (3-9, 5.60)
The probables page mentions that Feldman has never faces the Marlins. Which is just dandy. Hooray journalism! He’s from Hawaii, just like our president and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. The Good Guys are .294 combined against him, with Hunter, Bourn and Berkman leading the charge.
Wandy’s reminding all of us of Bad Wandy from years gone by, which is actually not Redding Horrible, just regular old Mark Portugal Bad. Ian Kinsler loves feasting on some rare Eny to the tune of a ricockulous .750/1.500/2.269. Good Lord. This don’t look good. Luckily, he gets everyone else out. Or has in the past.
Saturday, June 19
6:05 CT, MMPUS
Colby Lewis (6-4, 3.30) v. Brian Moehler (0-3, 6.32)
Mister Lewis is in his second go-round with the Rangers, which is basically like getting back together with the girl who cheated on you, ran up your credit cards, and then gained 150 lbs while you were apart. Just plain dumb. Only Carlos has seen him more than one AB, and he’s hitting .286. Faaaaaaantastic!
Moe’s really putting the “work” in “workman” lately, in the sense that he’s getting worked over by opposing hitters. I love the guy for all he’s done for the past few years, but there comes a point where you gotta cut bait. David “Stop Calling Me Dale” Murphy and Elvis Andrus both hit him pretty well.
Sunday, June 20th
FATHER’S DAY (just a gentle reminder from a man with no kids)
1:05 CT, MMPUS
C.J. Wilson (5-3, 3.48) v. Felipe Paulino (1-8, 4.50)
Wilson is a tough, no-nonsense cop who doesn’t play by the rules. When the Cuban Mafia took out the woman he loved in a voodoo ritual murder cult, they thought it was over. They were wrong…dead wrong. She’s a zombie. He’s a cop. They fight crime! Also, Hunter Pence bats .800 against him.
Hard Luck Phil is back, looking for his second win of the season. The Rangers straight up light him up and smoke him, though. Ian Kinsler hasn’t ever gotten a hit against him, at least. Everyone else is north of .333. With Moe ahead of him in the rotation, you gotta hope he’ll at least go deep into this game to give the bullpen a rest.
Astros:
Alberto Arias – at home, watching Copa Munidal in his Underoos.
Bud Norris – about to un-DL himself, cutting off Brian Moehler’s head to gain his powers as…The High (ERA) Lander!
Chris Sampson – regrowing his hair, rehabbing his whatchamacallit.
Rangers:
(deep breath)
Endy Chavez: Post-Yankees Obscurity Syndrome (P.O.S.)
Nelson Cruz: Torn hamstring while converting to Judiasm.
Toby Hall: And I quote “Still having trouble with stamina”. S’ok, Toby. Happens to plenty of guys.
Rich Harden: Strained glut. Is that like a glute? Kids these days.
Derek Holland: Throwing off a mound in Arizona. Sounds like a euphemism to me.
Tommy Hunter: Training as sniper for Cuban Mafia; the only man who can stop C.J. Wilson
Eric Hurley: Torn rotator cuff. Must’ve been throwing off Derek Holland’s mound.
Promotions
Friday: Kiolbassa-sponsored Lone Star Series t-shirt. And fireworks, dammit.
Saturday: Nolan Ryan bobblehead. The bobblehead depicts him loading the Dell Diamond on the back of an F-350 while giving the bird to Houston.
Sunday: A TIE! On Father’s Day! How original! Wait, are we actually getting ironic promotional items at games now? I think I need to lie down. Also, fathers can run the bases. They won’t do this promotion next year after all the torn hammies and that one fat guy who has a stroke in front of third.
Happy Father’s Day, everybody! It was my dad who introduced me to baseball and the Astros, and though we don’t go to as many games together as we should, it’s always a blast when we do. I almost feel like I should be carrying my glove to the game when I go with him, just for old times sake. Maybe we can stop and eat at Jojo’s on 290 and 34th after the game. Can we, Dad?