Astros 5
Sea Cucumbers 4
contributed by NeilT
I’m obsessed with the Mariners. I don’t just hate them, I despise them. I loathe them. I can spend days thinking of nothing but their despicableness, their foulness, their utter . . . utter . . . Marinerness. I delight in their failures. And what holds for my feelings for the club holds double for their fans, the Gobs.
But my late father was the best of men, and he always said you couldn’t really understand others until you knew their story. “Walk a mile in their shoes,” he would say, “before you criticize.”
I needed to spend a day as a Seattlun. For one day in Houston, I would live the Seattle life.
I woke up early and went straight to yoga. I picked hot yoga, because I figured it was the weirdest kind of yoga that didn’t involve contact with other people’s body parts, and I figured weird would be the kind of yoga Seattluns would like. Have you been to hot yoga? I threw up once at hot yoga. The room smells, your mat smells, you smell. So does the person next to you. It was the perfect start to my Seattle day.
***
Not much happened in the first two innings. Altuve led-off with a double, but was stranded. King Felix got two Ks. Smoak–there’s something I’m supposed to remember about Seattluns and smoke–was the first Mariner on base with a walk in the second. King Felix struggled a bit in the second, giving up walks to Krauss and Dominguez.
***
On my way home from yoga, I passed State Senator Rodney Ellis in bike lycra riding his bike to work, and I remembered: it’s take your bike to work day. That was perfect, just the sort of thing a Seattlun would do. I took my shower in the yard under the irrigation system–it wasn’t raining so I had to improvise–loaded up my bike and drove to work.
***
Stuff happened for the Stros in the 3rd. Altuve led off with a bunt single, and the Stros scored two on three singles and an error.
***
On the way up the elevator I had a funny conversation with my partner. Just like a lot of Seattluns, this guy I share my life with is my partner. I actually have a lot of partners.
“Neil, are those yoga pants?” Well of course they were, I was a Seattlun for a day, and I told him so. “They don’t fit very well.” “They’re Kris’s,” I told him, “so are the sandals.”
“Birkenstocks aren’t they? They looked a little small.” I explained that you had to sacrifice for authenticity. I also explained that I didn’t have any wool socks, so the brown dress socks were the best I could do.
***
In the fourth Peacock looked like the 30-game winner that we know he is. Villar stole second but was stranded.
***
I went to Catalina coffee after my 9:00 conference call. I know Seattluns like coffee, but I couldn’t think of any coffee shops with ties to Seattle in Houston. Catalina was sure to be chock full of scenesters, and sure enough my yoga pants fit right in. So did my press-on compass neck tat. They didn’t serve granola though. I didn’t know what else Seattluns eat, so I had a chocolate croissant, which I like, with my cortado, which I didn’t know anything about but which sounded Northwestern.
***
In the 5th, Peacock struggled, giving up two on a Zunino homer. Zunino started on my fantasy team, but I felt no joy. The Astros took the lead again in the bottom of the 5th on a Krauss single to drive in Castro.
***
I wanted to go to Goro and Gun for lunch. I figured vegetarian ramen would be the very thing, but it turned out I had a lunch to go to. The lunch was banquet chicken, but I pretended it was tofu. It was lousy chicken but delicious tofu. There were engineers at my table. “I didn’t remember you had so many piercings” one of them said. They were fake, but I explained that all of us Seattluns had piercings.
***
In the 6th the Mariners went up on a two-run Seager double. Like every Astros game, the sold-out stands were packed equally with Mariners and Astros fans. “Did you see that, dude!” the guy next to me in the number 420 jersey for player “Smoke It” chortled. I took off the fake piercings.
***
I had another call in the afternoon and went back to my office. I ran into another of my partners in the elevator. “Neil,” he sounded concerned, “is that flannel?” I told him it was. “It’s an odd color for a shirt.” Teal and silver I explained. “And it matches the dye in your hair. Are you ok?”
***
The seventh came, the seventh went. Cisneros replaced Peacock for two outs, then Sipp came in for Cisneros. Sipp? Who is Sipp? King Felix was also done. The guy next to me did his yoga stretches, and I went off to the wash room to rinse out the dye and wash off the fake tat.
***
I had a package from REI at work, a new seat post for my road bike. It was just a little taste of Seattle. I left early and went to D & Q for a Pike’s Pale Amber Ale, from Seattle. I was also listening to Seattlun music as I drove around town today. I started out with that weird baby record by Nirvana, but something was wrong with the stereo and it sounded really distorted. I switched to Jimi Hendrix, but I have to admit, Jimi Hendrix is kinda cloying to me. Band of Horses sang that song that’s either about dumpsters or a horse with no name. Bill Frisell fiddled with pedals, and may or may not have played something. I liked the Fleet Foxes though.
***
Sipp–Sipp? SIPP!–pitched well through the bottom of the 8th striking out Hart and Smoak–Smoke? In the bottom of the 8th the Astros tied it on a walk and a single.
***
I love Airline Seafood. It is one of the finest places in Houston, and it sells great Gulf seafood. Normally I’d go and buy some fine redfish or grouper, maybe even snapper, and usually shrimp, but today I went and bought some salmon. “Will you throw it to me?” They are such good people, “we can throw you a whole fish if you want.” “No, I might miss the whole fish,” they had told me that a whole salmon was slippery.
He put my filet in a plastic bag, took a couple of steps back, and tossed me the salmon. I caught it.
Tie game.
***
SIPP! got the first runner in the 9th, then Qualls came in for SIPP! Bass replaced Qualls in the 10th and pitched through the 11th. The bullpen was outstanding. Defense was fine too, the whole game. It wasn’t just that there were no errors, there were fine double plays in the third and fourth. There was a bam-bam challenge call-out that was the highlight of the game in the top of the 10th, Altuve to Guzman. It was tight. Pitching was tight.
And in the bottom of the 11th Furbush—let’s not allow any cheap humor here, let’s have some empathy for Hoes—loaded the bases then allowed a Singleton Baltimore chop over the third baseman’s head to drive in the winning run. Astros 5, Sea Pricks 4.
***
I hate yoga pants on men. I hate granola. I find Nirvana inane, and Jimi Hendrix cloying. I don’t like King Felix’s neck tat, and Birkenstocks never fit right unless you’re wearing wool socks. And I hate the Mariners. When I fart, I face Cancun.
I’ve got to admit though, fish tossing is kinda fun.