Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Astros 0
Baby Bears 12
W: Wells (7-4) | L: Hampton (6-8)
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SWEEP, BITCHES
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Astros 4
Turdinals 3
W: Valverde (1-2) | L: Franklin (2-1)
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Last night’s game? Oh, it was holyshitfuckingawesome, thanks for asking. To try to capture it would be futile, so I strongly urge you to watch the game recap, Schumaker getting Pudge facked, El Torpedero fielding the ball off of Sparky, Coste tying it with a double in the ninth, and Miggy’s game winner. The lesson for tonight is this – when you have the opportunity to end the game on a double play, you best take it. Unless you just like watching extended, vigorous man-hugs, NTTAWWT…
On a closing note, for some reason, Ryan Franklin forces me to think about Geico ads. I want to look away, but that beard won’t. stop. staring. at. me.
Not coincidentally, if you turn Ryan Franklin upside down, he's also a broom with googly eyes.
Stay victorious, my friends
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Astros 5
Pirates 0
W: Rodriguez (8-6) | L: Morton (1-2)
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He got his season ERA back under 3.00, because anything higher is not befitting a man of his stature. He struck out only 11, because his fielders needed something to do. He won the series against Pittsburgh, using only his left arm. He wrestled a bear during the 7th inning stretch. After the bear lost, he made it carry him to mound in the 8th. He let the first 4 hitters in the lineup drive in all 5 runs, because his humility is only matched by his generosity. And his horrible, fear-inspiring power.
Eny Cabreja is…
The Most Interesting Pitcher in the World
I don't always pitch against Pittsburgh. But when I do, I prefer to throw complete game, five hit shutouts.
Wherein Brian Moehler plays the role of Black Bart
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Astros 7
Padres 1
W: Moehler (5-4) | L: Silva (0-2)
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The Good Guys picked up another series win – their eighth in the last ten – (Ed. – got a little ahead of things there) win with a decisive and LOLtacular 7-1 victory over the Fathers last night. The win brings Houston back to two gamers under .500, a strange point of resistance that they’ve been careening off of for at least six months now, by my rough calculations.
Squared up against Pads righty Silva (The disaster with the 8+ ERA named Walter, not to be confused with the disaster with the 8+ ERA named Carlos), the ‘Stros scuffled through the order the first time, getting no-hit through three and a third innings to open the game. In there, Moehler chugged along, giving up just a solo jack to Alfonzo in the 2nd to fall behind 1-0.
The San Diego lead then evaporated hilariously in the top of the 4th, beginning with one out in the inning. Miggy, Twinkie, Flapjack and Blum rained singles down all over Indifference Field at Where The Fuck Is Everyone Ballpark, plating two for a one-run lead. After a brief break in the action for a Pudge lineout, Erstad got the train moving again with a walk, and Kaz knocked home a third run with yet another single.
So Moehler stepped in with two outs and the bases juiced, and Astros fandom feeling comfortable with banking the three runs already on the board, and calling it an inning. A weak grounder to third validated that, but SPEED KILLS AND BRIAN MOEHLER IS A LOADED GUN MOTHERFUCKER HOLY SHIT LOOK AT HIM GO. I assume some variation of that thought jammed into Chase Headley’s brain, because after he deftly plucked the short hop, a complete panic-freeze was in effect and all systems went into temporary shutdown. The look on his face was a poignant reminder of Gunther flying around first to be gunned down by infinity earlier this year – the terror and confusion that grips a man when he realizes that he is incapable of making his body do something rational and good, his actions seemingly controlled remotely and without authorization by an unseen and willfully stupid force.
Would've gone immediately to 1st, but his mind was a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.
Headley first looked back toward third, which was holy shit balls far away and not at all a possibility, and after a pause for dramatic effect, skipping around and pants-shitting, his Freakout Gland kicked into action with a vengeance, causing him to heave the ball wildly off his back foot towards first. The throw skipped past Gonzalez on the outfield side and headed up the line in right while Blum and Erstad scored. Because Venable was inexplicably strolling in from right (nice courtesy effort there, guy), Gonzalez had to go chase the ball down while Kaz got waved home, and the throw to the plate crashed into the backstop right around the time the sixth run of the inning came across. Hooray tee ball! Sno-cones for everyone!
Please adjust your scouting report at third for Headley to read “needs work on decision-making and footwork; exhibits above-average comedic range and timing.” From there, not a lot happened – Moehler wound up with six innings of one-run ball, while Venti Fulchino and Hawk nailed down the final three frames. Kata drove in Erstad with a sac fly in the 9th to round out the scoring, then a pie fight broke out and Headley went to the movies for some reason, where he was shot. The end.
A non-collegiate game happened
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Astros 3
Royals 4
W: Soria (2-0) | L: Fulchino (2-3) | S: Bale (1)
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As a backdrop to the final game of college baseball this year, the Astros found themselves stuck in a pitcher’s duel that crapped out late for the loss. Oswalt pitched a solid six innings of one-run ball, working around some traffic and striking out eight.
The Royales screwed themselves out of a likely run in the 3rd, when Maier clubbed one over Bourn in dead center, and it rolled to the base of the wall at the top of the hill. Maier cruised into third, where the base coach decided it would be a strong plan to go for it with zero outs in the inning. The throw beat Maier by plenty enough for Pudge to have time to dive back inside the line for the tag. Score that one as a triple with an error charged to the parts of Dave Owen’s brain that evaluate risk/reward scenarios, time estimation and spatial relationships.
KC did manage to scratch out a run in the 6th on a Hulett single, taking a 1-0 lead before Roy got himself out of a bases-loaded mess without further damage. Hochevar had held the Good Guys hitless until Lee singled in the 5th, but in the bottom half of the 6th, Matsui wound up in scoring position after a throwing error, and Erstad came on to hit for Roy. On a 2-1 count, he found a fastball that tailed back over the plate, and mashed the shit out of it, clanging off the face of the right field upper tank for the one-run lead and his first tater of the year.
That’s where it stayed until the top of the 9th, with El Loco Ponche on the hill to close out the win. With one out, Maier hit a routine grounder to Fat Elvis, who thoroughly Buckner’d it to allow the tying run aboard. Jacobs then smacked one a mile in the air over towards the boxes, and it looked like trouble. Michaels eased around the side wall and out of view of the cameras, where he made the catch with absolutely no room to spare, and heaved it in to double up Maier, who was standing on third (lesson learned). Unfortunately, the umps chatted and got the call right, ruling that the ball had glanced off the wall before Michaels caught it. Great play and sales pitch, regardless. With runners on the corners and one down after the error and the near miss, DeJesus predictably singled in the tying run before Valverde got out of it with a grounder and a lazy fly.
The bottom of the 9th produced nothing, and KC struck first in extras, with Pena going yard to right off of Byrdak for a 3-2 lead. Pudge lead off the bottom half with a single against Soria, and moved into scoring position on a bunt from Kaz. Kata pinch hit for Byrdak, and came up huge with a solid knock to right, scoring Pudge after what seemed like an impossibly long run from second. They could’ve run a couple of commercials and still cut back to the game in time to see him slide in for the tie, bless his stumpy little legs. Bourn flied out to the track, Kepp walked, and Miggy came up empty on a swinging ponche to finish it out.
In the top of the 11th, Fulchino came on for Byrdak, providing me an opportunity to talk up his performance this year to the guy next to me who had never heard of him. I was just about to sing the praises of his rich, full-bodied flavor – with a hint of mocha and cinnamon – when Olivo blasted his first pitch four-hundred-something feet off the gas pump for the eventual game winner. So yeah, I guess that one is partially on me. My bad. From then on, I referred to him only as a cocksucker and a generally worthless piece of crap. My heart wasn’t really in it, but this still seemed to work better, as he struck out two and finished the inning with no additional scoring. The damage was done, though, and Michaels, Twinkie and Thunderpants went quietly against Bale to end the game.
Sweep avoidance mode is in effect shortly today, with an impending Businessman’s Special at 1:00. Do your part to uphold the antiquated theme by dressing nattily in a suit pulled from the wardrobe rack of Mad Men, and enjoying a few Martinis and filterless Lucky Strikes while closing that big deal.
Great game, bad recap
Astros 2
FTC Babybears 1
W: Sampson (3-0)
L: Guzman (2-1)
This was an awesome game. The Most Interesting Pitcher in the World returned to form with a brilliant 7-inning performance, giving up a single run early, and Sampson shut the FTC down for the final 2 frames. The Good Guys finally got to Zambrano late, scratching out a run in the 7th, and got Guzman into the weeds with the bases loaded and one out in the 9th. On a 1-2 count, the sinking feeling started to creep in that this one might be in danger of getting away, but Blum sent ’em home happy with a clean single to center for the big win.
This is a piss-poor excuse for a recap, especially for a game that I so wanted to do up right. Sometimes life keeps you from the electric word-making machine, and this is one of those times. Sorry about that.