Astros 7, Phillies 6

WP: Wright
LP: Bastardo

Down the street the dogs are barkin’
And the day is a-gettin’ dark
As the night comes in a-fallin’
The dogs’ll lose their bark
An’ the silent night will shatter
From the sounds inside my mind
For I’m one too many mornings
And a thousand miles behind

So now we’re done with Philadelphia. They aren’t going to miss us, not going to be upset because the Astros will be gone from the NL because Houston is 35-23 against them since 2004, 18-15 in the last five seasons of free fall.

It’s a little like a divorce with children. Even though she’s sent Wade packing, the Astros still carry the fruits of their union forward; in this case most notably in the form of Jonathan Singleton, one of the great hopes for the future.

Lyles started this one by giving up a double to Rollins, who scored after two sacrifices. Halladay didn’t have his best stuff by far, but then again he was facing the Astros, tonic for weakness all season long. He held them down until Moore took an outside fastball to the opposite field for a 2-1 lead.

Lyles pitched well through most of the fifth, striking out Martinez and Halladay to lead off that frame but then Rollins singled, stole second and went to third on a bad throw. Pierre doubled him in to tie, followed by an intentional walk to Utley so Lyles could face the lumbering and still somewhat off-balance Ryan Howard. Howard smacked an offering to the wall in left for a double though, scoring both runners before being thrown out trying to stretch it into a triple.

That 4-2 lead held up for another inning until Corporan crushed a splitter that didn’t break sharply off the facing in right. Halladay was clearly gassed by this point but he regrouped to get Greene looking.

Tony D pressed the only advantage he had by opening the floodgates, swamping the Phils with waves of substitutions, wearing them down in a battle of attrition and hoping for luck to roll his way.

From the crossroads of my doorstep
My eyes they start to fade
As I turn my head back to the room
Where my love and I have laid
An’ I gaze back to the street
The sidewalk and the sign
And I’m one too many mornings
An’ a thousand miles behind

It happened in the bottom of the seventh, when Manuel was manuvered into replacing Bastardo with Aumont, who has been nothing short of completely unreliable. Without retiring a batter, he gave up a bases-loading walk, then cleared them by serving up a double to Maxwell and a single to Dominguez, turning the score to 7-4 in favor of the Good Guys.

The waves continued, as Cedeno struck out Howard and then was replaced by Mickey Storey, whose 69-80 mph arsenal and shaky command plunked Ruiz and gave up a single to Mayberry and a double to Brown. Lopez was called upon and he nailed down the five-out save. The Phillies have all but shit the bed in this wheezing gasp of a bid for postseason glory, and they can take no solace in the knowledge that they beat themselves while facing the weakest team on their schedule.

It’s a restless hungry feeling
That don’t mean no one no good
When ev’rything I’m a-sayin’
You can say it just as good.
You’re right from your side
I’m right from mine
We’re both just one too many mornings
An’ a thousand miles behind

Philadelphia takes its spot in the rear view mirror now, and the Astros go on the road to St. Louis and their last visit to Missouri as Senior Loop denizens. Pull back the curtain in the Game Zone and follow along.

Astros 5 Phightin’ Phillies 0

by Mr. Happy

Well, I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would go meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

Oh, you can’t always get what you want
Oh, you can’t always get what you want
Oh, you can’t always get what you want
Oh, you can’t always get what you want
Oh, you can’t always get what you want
Oh, you can’t always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You get what you need

On a night in which he should definitely have gotten his ass down to the Powerball store to load up on tickets, one very lucky Dallas Keuchel scattered five hits and sprinkled in four walks (and throw in a hit batsman—whole lotta traffic) in his 5.1 innings and 95 pitches (48 strikes; 47 balls) of work, but, and this is a huge but, he allowed no runs for his second win of the season against seven losses. And he, a .111 hitter, got a hit and scored a run. How rare is that?

How did Keuchel and co. do it? Let’s go to your Powerball numbers. The number “13” was big tonight, for that was the number of ground ball outs Keuchel induced, versus only one fly ball out, and that one was in the first inning. The number “10” also was critical, for that was the number of unsuccessful at-bats the Phightins had tonight with runners in scoring position. The number “12” played a part, which was the number of LOBsters the Phillies had in the ball game. Lucky number “7” came up big tonight, for that was the number of runners in scoring position that the Phillies left on base (and also the number of wins the Astros already have in September, against seven losses-.500 baseball), including “3” left on the third sack.

The Astros scored all the runs that they would need tonight in the first inning, courtesy of a Justin Maxwell two run dong, his sixteenth of the season. As noted earlier, the number “10” was in the mix big time tonight, which was the number of base knocks that the Astros garnered. This leads us to your Powerball number, which is “5”, the number of runs the home nine scored. The normally un-clutch hitting Astros were 4-13 w/RISP tonight, and they scored four runs with two outs in the inning-this is a .212 hitting teams with two outs and runners in scoring position. But not tonight.

The Astros try again to avoid loss number 100 tomorrow as they go for a series win with Jordan Lyles taking the bump against Roy Halladay. The Game Zone was lively tonight, although I caught some flack for telling the truth about Dallas Keuchel. I can take it. We indeed got what we needed tonight-a win.

Phillies 12
Astros 6

by NeilT

I was 11 when I found my older brother’s porn stash in the hayloft. There was a John Deere tractor brochure, a 7R with an air-conditioned cab, and a couple of Philadelphia Phillies baseball cards, Jimmy Rollins and Chase Utley. I don’t know how he got that stuff, but every boy in Lancaster County knows who the Phillies are. It’s English, and it’s wrong, but there is something so exotic about baseball. It it’s modern, just like that big John Deere tractor. 

My parents were having trouble then. Father was busted for refusing to use the slow moving triangle on the back of the buggy. “English,” he said.  Mother’s jellies weren’t jelling. It was tough at home, and I grew up tough and a little bit wild, and that stash of porn made me wilder.

You grow up wild and Amish you sooner or later come to a bad end. At the barn raisings I’d be the tough guy, preening for the girls, reminding the other boys that the Philadelphia Phillies had finished with a .300 or worse season record 6 times, 1928, 1938, 1939, 1941, 1942, and 1945. They were the first major league baseball team to reach 10,000 losses, in 2007. One day one of the other boys laughed and said, “oh yeah, what are you going to be, an Astros fan?” I didn’t know what that was, but I was a rebel, so I made it mine. I was an Astros fan. 

Things finally came to a head at home this year. I would go into town and hang out with English girls, drinking coke and eating French fries. There was this one night, last week, I was high on corn syrup and eating twinkies straight from the cellophane, blasted out of my mind and the next thing I know it’s 10 pm and I’m at the movies, holding hands with this girl named Tiffany, eating popcorn with this artificial butter on it. I was fried, man, and Tiffany was making a scene and the cops came. I got into it with the cops and next I know I’m busted for Amish in Possession of Artificial Sweeteners. When they finally dropped the charges, father told me no more. If I couldn’t be simple, I couldn’t be home. 

So yesterday I took off for Philadelphia and at Penn Station asked a cop where I could watch the Phillies play the Astros. “Hooters” he said. So I went to Hooters and ordered some chicken wings and a pop and watched my first major league baseball game.

I think I’ve had enough of the English life. I think I’m going home to Lancaster County.

Astros 6 Phightin’ Phillies 4

By Mr. Happy

Tonight’s ball game was sweet. It is a rare bird this season indeed. For the first three innings, it looked like the Phillies were going to win in a walkaway, leading 4-0, as the home nine were making a pretty meh pitcher, Tyler Cloyd, look like Cy Young du jour. That all changed in the fourth frame, when, with two on and nobody out Matt Dominguez found the Crawford Boxes to his liking, cutting the Phillies’ lead to 4-3, which chased Cloyd.

Meanwhile, Lucas Harrell, who apparently didn’t appreciate HPU Bill Miller’s strike zone tonight, bent but didn’t break, exiting the ball game with two outs in the top of the sixth inning, getting tossed after Tony D had given him the hook. That’s a belt and suspenders way to get a pitcher out of a ball game.

The game stayed 4-3 Phightins until the bottom of the eighth, when the Astros erupted for their second three run inning of the evening. This inning was highlighted by Jed Lowrie’s pinch hit two run double, which plated one Jordan Lyles with what ultimately was the winning run. Lyles had entered the game as a pinch runner for Scott Moore, who took one for the ball club off of the foot.

In the ninth inning, Wilton Lopez gave up a one out single to Ryan Howard. However, he induced Domonic (who spells his name unusually) Brown to ground into a game-ending 3-6-1 twin killing to preserve the win for Wesley Wright, who wins for the first time this season, going to 1-2. That was Lopez’s fifth save. The Astros now stand at 46-98, and Tony D is 7-16 (.304) since replacing Brad Mills.

It was an excellent day for Mr. Happy at work today, and it was culminated nicely with an Astros victory on a night in which he had recap responsibility. I received my first paycheck in over six years today, and I must say that it feels great. I love this job; I get up early and get in early too. There’s just something to be said for a daily routine after not having had one for many years. It’s quite comforting, and I like it a lot. The Game Zone was particularly active tonight, which was great.

Cubs 5, Astros 1

By Sphinx Drummond

I like the way some have incorporated popular songs in their recaps. It seem as though there is a musical piece for any and every circumstance. If there is a story to be told, chances are it has been told in a song.

In 1952 composer John Cage released his most famous and most controversial composition, 4‘33“ (pronounced “Four minutes, thirty-three seconds”). Conceived over a period of years it is more challenging for the listener to hear than it is for any musician to play.

In 2012 the Astros began marketing major league games at their home field Minute Maid Park but infamously and controversially refused to supply a complete team of major league talent. Conceived over a period of years, the move by the Astros to use minor league talent at the major league level was/is more challenging for the fans to watch than it is for the players to play.

John Cage, unlike anyone within the Astros’ brain-trust, was an artist.  Not an artist in the traditional sense, an experimental and avant-garde one. His famous piece is 4 minutes and 33 seconds of ambient sound as the musicians are instructed to merely hold their instruments, do nothing, and allow the sounds of the concert hall to be the music. A man clears his throat from the back of the auditorium, a woman fidgets in her chair, another person flips through the program. So it’s not 4 minutes and 33 seconds of silence–that wouldn’t be music.

The Astros’ players aren’t instructed to just hold their glove, bat, or ball, and do nothing, while allowing the everything around them to happen without their influence, it only seems that way. So it’s not really nine innings of nothing happening on the field–that wouldn’t be baseball.

There was a scary moment in the eighth when Mickey Storey took a liner that hit him three times like some kind of magic bullet. Lucky for him it his hand and shoulder before his face, much of the impact had been absorbed by the first and second blows before the last one smashed his grill. After what happened to Brandon McCarthy, it was a relief to find Storey wasn’t seriously injured.

At least the Astros avoided a sweep in the Cub series. Now the red-hot-suddenly-fighting-for-a-wild-card-only-three-games-back Phillies are in town for a four game series. Maybe the Astros can silence the Phillies hopes and dreams of a wild card.