Dodgers 1, Astros 0
W: Guerrier (3-3)
L: Lopez (1-3)
Just like two twelve-year-old girls upset over some unimportant slight that still burns, the Astros and Dodgers got into a slap fight on Sunday that had all the drama and meaning of a schoolyard fracas.
You call that love in French, but it’s just Frenchette
I’ve been to France, so let’s just dance
I get all the love I need in a luncheonette
In just one glance, so let’s just dance
I can’t get the kind of love that I want
Or that I need, so let’s just dance
Two bottom-dwellers, teams with some history and a shadow of a present duked it out as best they could on Sunday. Hiroki Kuroda matched Bud Norris pitch for pitch, inning for inning although their foes were as punchless as they were dominant on the hill. Through six innings both had only allowed a hit. In the Astro half of the seventh, CJ led off with a double. Even though Mills had been ejected earlier, Al ‘Bundini’ Pedrique was at the helm and he’s seen a game or two in his time. Barmes was up and it was a dice roll for him to bunt or hit away.
You come on like it’s all natural darling
But you know, oh it’s really only naturalette
It’s just like all of your leathers darling, they don’t scare me
I know it’s really only leatherette
I take you down, gonna wash you down
I scrub you on down in any old launderette
I can’t get the kind of love that I want
So let’s just dance, and I’ll forget
Ok, Barmes hit away and flew out to shallow center. That brought up Corporan, who was once again overmatched and came up empty. Two down now, and Norris up. Down two outfielders since Pence was dinged and Bourn had been tossed, Bundini makes the move to not only ask Downs to get a hit but also to turn over the outcome to the ever-immolating bullpen. Bundini, you slick bastard.
I can’t get the kind of love that I want
Or that I need
So let’s just dance
I can’t get the kind of love that I want
Or that I need
So let’s just dance
Lopez was shaky but gimped through the seventh, then in the eighth Navarro hit one into the bleachers in right and the slapfight was just a dance, just like that.
The abyss draws near. The Rangers, Rays, Rangers and Red Sox over the next two weeks have all the capability to leave the Astros looking like Dawn Davenport when they limp to the All-Star break. This isn’t going to be pretty.
It’s always darkest before the dawn.
My dad took me to Astro games when I was a kid. The earliest one I remember was in ’65 or ’66, against the Phillies. I remember feeling like I was going to fall from whatever level we were on, all the way down to the field.
We went pretty much every year. Our yearly vacations were often an overnighter to Six Flags and somewhere in the summer we’d fit in a game in Houston. We saw the Giants a lot, Marichal, Bobby Bonds, Willie Mays. I even kicked Say Hey in the shins once as he darted through the crowd of kids so he could get to the bus as fast as he could.
One year we made a special trip, just the four of us – me, my dad, his dad, and my great-grandfather. I was maybe 10 and don’t remember the game, but I remember that as a really cool event. The four generations got together every Christmas, but this was the only time we ever went anywhere together and it stays with me still.
They’re all gone now. I can’t hope to live up to their legacies as men and fathers, but I try to be as good as I can. Thanks to all the fathers on this day. You mean more than any of us can ever imagine, as teachers, enforcers, supporters and leaders. If you’ve got kids, know your time is shorter than you might expect. Do what you can to make that time as good as it can be.