On a day with all this talk of redemption and rebirth and re this and re that, making old things new or something that wasn’t into something that is, today we saw the sweet breath of life resuscitating the moribund Home Nine into something like the Guns of Navarone. Don’t be messing with us, boy, we gots pitchin’ and timely hittin’ and little dudes flying around the bases…we got us a TEAM, boy, and don’t you forget it…

At least for today. This was a good weekend, facing off against a foe that strikes no fear in the heart after having to contend with real champeens and being shown how wide the gulf had become. Today the almost-previously-dead Juan Nicasio rose to the hill and matched Our Golden Surfer over seven. He left with a 2-1 lead courtesy of #7-hitting absolute-nobody Wilin Rosario’s two-run yackleberry in the fourth. Mighty Mouse led off the bottom of the frame with a triple and was driven in by El Caballo’s two-bagger and that score held until the bottom of the eighth. With two out, MM and Martinez stacked singles and then Caballo nerfed a roller to third but the throw to first was awry, scoring pinch-runner Bixler.

Lefty Rex Brothers, who can bring that freaking ball, who reduces lefthanders to flailing Nancy Boys, who had all the advantages, was facing Lefty Bogusevic because Mills’ options were a lot like the Easter Bunny. Bogey, with all of 19 plate appearances against lefties in his career, with a .118 batting average against them, with a snappy .118 slugging percentage against them, promptly screamed the first pitch into right for the winner.

Redemption. Rebirth. Resuscitation. Indeed.

Myers came on for the ninth and New Astro Killer Cuddyer doubled. With two out, Helton drew a pinch-hit walk, but Colvin bounced out to end the game and send the Astros over .500 for the first time since 2009.

Attendance was announced as 14,195 paid. I can imagine how I’d promote a game on Easter Sunday, but it would probably result in a crowd even smaller than the 5000 or so who actually showed up. I don’t know how they did it in other cities, but they did draw more fans.

Screw ’em – the ones who showed up saw a good one, and they saw a team that is trying to win instead of searching how to play well enough to not be embarrassed. There’s a big difference.

Go Astros!

Rockies 19, Astros 3

W: Millwood (4-3)
L: Harrell (0-2)

As Norm MacDonald used to say, “It’s the anal rape.” Deliverance was visited on the Astros in their last Sunday game of the season, ironically falling on Fan Appreciation Day. They trotted out all their finery to excite the crowd, and it was ripped to shreds of mud and blood by the hungry jackals from Colorado.

Squeal. Squeeeeeeeeeeal!

A franchise-record 25 hits for Colorado, just one less than the Astro record for hits allowed. A tie for its largest margin of defeat. Not quite a scorched-earth embarrassment; the tiny flower sprouting among the ash is that the team did come up with three runs on seven hits, though all were singles.

Nope, this one is all on the pitchers. Starting with Harrell, who had to be too fine and ended up losing command all the way through the next three pitchers, until Abreu worked a scoreless ninth, this was a sideshow right out of Grand Guignol and no blood could be saved or spared. Harrell opened his veins for three earned and five overall; AnRod retched up four, Pendleton was hatcheted for five, Cedeno disembowelled for five as well.

Is it getting better, or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you, now you got someone to blame?
You say one love, one life, when it’s one need in the night.
One love, we get to share it
Leaves you baby if you don’t care for it.

This is my last recap of the season. Thank you so much to those involved for floating my name, approving me, putting up with my missteps and letting me ease back into writing while knocking off years of rust. Special thanks to everyone who read these, and those who found something within to comment on or relate to. They’ve been fun to put together and a weird chronicle of a piece of this season for me. I know that I come up short to the task, but I’ve tried to write up to the level of everyone on the site. I promise to do better next time.

My kitty says hi. She says thank you with her eyes.

Did I ask too much, more than a lot
You gave me nothing, now it’s all I got.
We’re one, but we’re not the same.
Well, we hurt each other, then we do it again.

You say love is a temple, love a higher law
Love is a temple, love the higher law.
You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl
And I can’t be holding on to what you got, when all you got is hurt.

This has been such a difficult season. We’ve seen hope die far sooner than it should have, and then subjected to its carcass being dragged through the streets for months. The brief glints of hope throughout have then been snatched away and tormented in front of us – new owner not approved, ex-players seeming happier in new places with playoff teams. The new kids brought in provided light in the pit, two months of a new kind of hope even as the vulture known as the American League perches nearby and waits for its opportunity to come.

One love, one blood, one life, you got to do what you should.
One life with each other: sisters, brothers.
One life, but we’re not the same.
We get to carry each other, carry each other.
One, one.

In the off-season, think back to this journey we’ve all taken from the light, through the darkness, and hopefully back into the light. Know that we all experience it in different ways and yet the same; we’re all joined in our stake in this community. Not just as Astro fans, or baseball fans, but in a larger scope of people with different backgrounds and beliefs and yet we pull together with common elements to build and nurture something. Our campfire of humanity, that we all warm our hands over in our own ways. If you see someone in need of even a simple word of kindness, do what you can to help. Be that light of grace to lighten someone else’s burden if you can. You can make an important difference in someone else’s life just by caring.

Sometimes I feel like I don’t know
Sometimes I feel like checking out.
I wanna get it wrong
Can’t always be strong
And love, it won’t be long.

Baby, baby, baby, light my way.
Oh, come on, baby, baby, baby, light my way.

Unless, of course, it’s DoRay.

After the game, they let the kids run the bases. Hundreds of pixies piled out of the stands and lined up orderly for that burst that makes childhood seem so pure and beautiful to the adults. Toddlers and preteens alike, all sharing in the joy of circling the bases, all with their individual motivations, secret loves and excitements.

If they let them run another thirty minutes, they might score as many times as the Rockies did.

Astros 3, FTC 2

W: Myers (6-13)
L: Dempster (10-13)

Fucking Fox. I guess football is too damn big so 11 of the last 25 games, and all of the weekend games except for the very last Sunday in September are broadcast on that pipsqueak tin can network in Houston only. The network that isn’t good enough for football is good enough for the crusty leftovers that are Your Houston Astros.

So. Another invisible game, to those of us in the ridiculous MLB-restricted viewing area, anyway. Gameday is more reliable than DoRay, which satisfies about as well as a continually interrupted dry-humping that never finishes, just stops and starts until frustration kills the whole thing off. Bastards.

A steady drizzle was the backdrop for a game that featured four runs scored in the first inning, followed by zilch until the bottom of the eighth. The Astros put up three on Martinez’ RBI single and a two-run single by Barmes. Myers gave up a run to Castro, who scored on a sac fly by Carl LaFong – Capital L, small A, capital F, small O, small N, small G…I hear he’s interested in an annuity policy, the public are buying them up like hotcakes…

Myers continued his strong second half by facing another bunch of weak-ass malcontents and misfits, but it’s always nice to stick it in the eye of the Jack-Legged Swine of the North Side, regardless of the circumstances or serendipity.

The bottom of the eighth found the young, husky and hirsute ponces down 3-2 with Castro on first. Pena smacked a shot to left that hit the wall below the basket and caromed back to Martinez. Initially ruled a home run, the gay celebration was stuffed when the Stark Fist flexed and the call was overturned after review.

Arguing that the lackadaisical Castro would’ve scored when the ball hit the wall, Mike Quade was tossed for the seventh time this season. This is his best chance for an HOF bid, as he tied former Chi skippers Johnny Evers and Frankie Frisch for the most ejections in a single FTC season.

After an hour-long rain delay, Melancon nailed it down in the ninth. Tomorrow, it’s the Dickities in Skyline Chili Land. Since it’s a weeknight, we might actually get to see this one.

Brewers 4, Astros Nada
W: Marcum (12-5)
L: Rodriguez (10-10)

Another Sunday with another nemesis, another day of the Astros not being carried on my cable system. We had plenty going on, what with the massive wild fires elbowing their way through our lives like Diana Ross shoving Mary and Cindy aside, but still we soldier on.

By some accounts a game was played today, or at least a score was tallied and adjustments were made to team records. Home Wandy did make an appearance and showed us a new version, First Two Outs Wandy and Shit, They Just Get Mad With Two Outs Wandy. First Two Outs Wandy kept the division-leading bullies scoreless through his six innings. Piss It All Away Wandy was touched for three runs on two homers however, and EDR gave up the other run in another two-out situation. Shawn Marcum continued Milwaukee’s spell over the Astro bats, clearly fashioned from wood felled in an uninhabited forest. Houston didn’t manage a hit until the sixth, and then only added two more over the final three frames. Although this game featured the return of Brett Wallace to the starting lineup, their filled chambers of runs to come have given way to little more than dusty farts, silent and powerless.

Now that they’ve rolled over to a 3-12 season record vs. Milwaukee, your Vichy Astros travel to Steeltown to inflate the egos of yet another team in need of a little tea and sympathy. Perhaps they’ll even show it to us on TV, like some kind of soft-core hotel porn channel. By now we’ve gotten used to the promise of the Sunny Leone / Tori Black thesp-off, only to settle in for another forty minutes of sweaty man ass bobbing across the frame, providing the interpretive hula to the repetitive MIDI riffs that serve as soundtrack for a little ‘solo time.’

Get comfortable with yourself in the Game Zone.

Astros 4, Giants 3 (11 innings)

W Melancon (7-4)
L: Ramirez (2-3)

At least for today, they are. 6-6 over their last twelve, splitting a long series with the defending World Champions, this might be a sign that the youngsters injected into the moribund Astro lineup are breathing life into the club. Sure, it’s a small sample, but the OPS of the new guys is significantly better than many of the players they replaced:

Downs .879
Martinez .882
Bogusevic .896
Paredes .741
Schafer .776
Altuve .679

Norris had perhaps his best stuff of the year, a 95/96 mph fastball with control, a good change and a snappy slider. Cain was just as good, and both pitchers were facing some of the weakest offense in the league. Through six, both were in command of the quickly paced game.

In the seventh, Norris got squeezed a little and gave up an excuse-me but timely long single to Huff that drove in the tying run. A sac fly later gave up the lead to the Giants. In the top of the eighth, Schafer had a terrific at-bat, fighting off pitches and taking close ones before singling in the tying run with two out.

In the tenth, Michaels, pinchhitting because he hits lefthanders, doubled off of Affeldt and drove in Paredes. The lead didn’t hold though, as Melancon was touched for a run in the bottom of the tenth.

Altuve doubled with one out in the top of the eleventh, and Downs brought him home with a clutch single to center. With the tying run on second in the bottom of the inning, Carpenter nailed down the save by striking out Rowand and getting Fontenot to ground out.

Schafer, Downs, Altuve, Lee and Michaels all came through with big plays, great at-bats, hustling play in the field and on the bases. This was a very enjoyable win for the Good Guys and you can get more detail on some of the crazy plays in the GameZone.

At home tomorrow, the Astros host the Pirates.

Giants 6, Astros 4

W: Affeldt (2-2)
L: Melancon (6-4)

“Oh no no no no no. I insist.”

“Oh I just couldn’t. Please. After you.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I went first. Please.”

“I just couldn’t. Please.”

“Oh no no no no.”

Sunday’s game was a cap to an invigorating six game stretch for the home nine. The new boys have been giving it what they’ve got, and even though they were taking it to the shittiest bunch of loserly fucks in the National League and what must be the most snakebit club in the loop, they did prevail with a 4-2 record in that stretch. Yeah, it coulda been 5-1 because the Giants absolutely refused gift after gift after gift from the Astros but in the end the panda took the bamboo for the win in extrys.

Sosa started and gave up a three-run jack to Belt in the second, but the Astros came back for four walks in the bottom of the second wrapped around a two-RBI single from Martinez and a couple of other hits to take the lead, 4-3. Tied in the eighth and in the middle of a stretch of several innings getting the leadoff runner aboard to no avail, the Giants had the bases loaded but Martinez made the play of the game. He snagged a fly to medium left and threw out a tagging Schierholtz at the plate on the fly, including a fine block of the plate by Corporan. Martinez was 3 for 5 on his 24th birthday, with two RBI but he couldn’t put the ball in play in the bottom of the ninth with the bases loaded. Without that last little bit of mojo, the curse of the extra innings caught up with the Good Guys when Melancon served up a fat cookie to Sandoval, who turned it into the turd of a two-run homer that extended their lead over the Diamondbacks.

Once again the kids looked good though. Plenty of entertainment value in this one, not the least of which is Altuve’s continued March to Greatness. He had a perfect sac bunt and one of the more bizarre pickoff recovery plays you’ll ever see.

After the game, Lyles was sent to OKC for a few days to make room for Schafer. The Astros expect to run out 2011’s clock on Lyles’ arm by using him in relief for the rest of the year. I hope that doesn’t mean working him in in emergency situations, but instead getting him a couple of innings of relief every fourth or fifth day.

Now it’s on to Denver tomorrow.