Dodgers 7, Astros 0

W: Kuroda (8-14)
L: Lyles (1-7)

Sure, I could talk about the futility. One run scored in the last 38 innings, one run in a three game series for the first time since 1988. I could go on and on about the same old stuff – the pitching isn’t good enough, the hitting is less than mediocre at best, anything situational is purely by accident, the catching is a joke half the time, the outfielders can’t throw – but all that is just repetition. We already know these things and the season still has a quarter of its length to go. I know you can already feel what it’s doing to you, there’s no reason to slide it all the way in because I don’t think you can take it right now. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later.

People started caring about what they eat
And people started smiling at everyone they meet
And people started looking for good instead of bad
Realize what they could lose and what they always had

Lyles may be feeling the effects of a long season on his abilities for the first time in a while. His command continues to be spotty and his command is his best weapon. Despite that, he was better than today’s results, at least until the sixth inning. The Dodgers took advantage of mistakes, but a tired 20-year-old is going to make them.

People started growing, instead of being crushed
And people started slowing down instead of being rushed
And people started looking with very different eyes
And this information now comes as a surprise

Altuve continues to get hits and he’s making the plays at second. If he can adjust to the inevitable changes major league pitchers make to him, he’s going to be the Astros second baseman for a while. He’s got great bat speed and that short swing and stature enables him to cover the plate well.

Good morning here’s the news and all of it is good
Good evening here’s the news and all of it is good
And the weather’s good!

Paredes made two outstanding plays in the field. The first was in the stands on a foul pop that kept a tough inning from becoming a disaster. The second was his spear of a hot smash over the bag on its way to the left field corner, but Paredes’ dive to his right gloved the dart. His throw to first was a one-hopper that didn’t get the runner, but it showed range and hands that we’d heard might not be there, especially range to his right. He’s got an absolute gun for an arm too.

And people started feeling that better’s on the way
And people started feeling some peace and calm today
And people started liking the way that good life feels
And every precious moment becoming what is real

Bogusevic has discovered a power stroke and maybe things are coming together for him. He’s hitting .288. Paredes is hitting .283, Martinez .250 with real power, Altuve .333. They’re all kids, fresh with the excitement that was missing from the team earlier and they’re getting a crash course in major league competition. It’s going to be baby steps from here, little victories within a framework of losses while they skip that development we don’t get to see and instead play it out in front of all of us. Night after night.

It’s easy for me to curse the darkness. Sometimes you have to make sure there is still some light out there as well.

Good morning here’s the news and all of it is good
Good evening here’s the news and all of it is good
And the weather’s good!

Brewers 7, Astros 3

W: Greinke (10-4)
L: Norris (5-8)

The house is quiet, except for the occasional jangling of the tags on the dog collars when they shift in sleep on the couch. Everyone’s gone for the weekend, leaving me here to watch the Astros and fill in the rest of the time in the usual manner, stringing out indecision over whatever other pursuits I’d rather do than some sort of needed chore, so that I can savage my psyche later for not getting those things done.

Times like these, the quiet tail ends of slow weekends, are prime opportunity for reflection. In my case, reflection is a dark, evil road that can lead me to painful examinations of the minutiae of failure and regret. The first step is to put on some music, something that draws the demons out of their lairs with the scent of food. Maybe a disc with a particular song that reminds me of someone? Maybe something less specific but darker? No, why not stand up and call the demons out. I think I’ll select the cool, smooth cylinder of a familiar, pervasive, unsolvable, everpresent and immutable anguish. Something that celebrates and illustrates just enough of the pain so that I can fill in the blank spots with my own and fire up a special hellbrew for the evening.

Echoing words, voices, thoughts
Remembering what you forgot
And I was just hanging out

It starts out playing on those tones we all know too well, the searing imbalance of unrequited feelings. Ah yes, l’amour. L’affect de la coeur. The smooth, slow ramping up with the lyrics that are just specific enough to slice into that first layer, just sharp enough to let the blade slide under and pull the skin up, just a little bit…right there…

So that the next song can slide all the way in and fill the vein, fill the paths all the way to the heart, all the way to the brain. That delicious darkness, that overwhelming burn that is your story, my story, our story and it hurts, hurts to remember it and dredge it up and replay it over and over and over. What is it that makes this pain call me back? What is it that makes it irresistable? Replaying the pain, feeling the confusion and the hurt and the anger all over again, the sickening knot that doubles me over, wrenches me from mouth to crotch in some circular spasm, tendrils of shame and sadness wrapping around me and tightening with every line in every verse.

And all at once it’s not important
What fell in place just falls apart again, I guess
Not having, I can only hope
It’s only time and you know I’ll wait

I know that I love this pain. I seek it out in so many ways, some finely tuned and some blunt approximations. Now that the mad rush is raging, it’s a matter of sustaining it. I may feel sick, I am certainly aware of the pool of sludge I’m bathing in, but knowing that gives me the fuel to hate myself that much more, to feed this weakness and shame and be energized in some strange negative way by it. I don’t take pride in being broken inside but now it feels like some kind of exotic animal that needs to be taken out for a few paces around the block and if someone notices the shiny edges of the darkness then so much the better. Look at me as I disappear…

Sometimes there’s enough fuel to last for days. I have my favorite means of feeding it, to be sure, but it’s rare that I can afford to devote days dancing on the knife-edge of this particular madness. And madness it is, make no mistake about it; I can’t begin to count the number of times the cool blade has cleaved so close to devastating my life and those around me.

The best part, the really good part is when it burns itself out. I can recognize it, see that the fire is banking and I know that it will be over soon, like that roller coaster ride that loops the track twice so you know what’s next. After the inadequacy and helplessness fades into smoke there is a quiet peace that is more welcome than joy, cleansing and cooling me. The sun does come up in the morning and the overgrowth that was threatening to slip outside has been burned back a bit.

Somehow, this beast hasn’t consumed me; it answers my call and it heeds my leash. The question is, will I someday turn it loose? I hope not. I know what it can do.

In your dreams you’ve seen it all
Through a window so far off
Remember watching while your
Lightning blue eyes reflected sunrise

Through the dawn I’d seen it, too
I caught a glimpse I thought was you
And I was overwhelmed
Lightning blue eyes against the daylight

——————–

Hey, 40 games under .500! So what. Big deal. It’s not a measuring stick, no more than anything else. We all know this team is bad, so bad that they sold off what others would buy just to get some teasing hope for the future. 40 games under, 50, 35, it doesn’t mean anything in the Grand Scheme.

The parts that do have meaning are that August is a cruel and difficult month in baseball, especially if you’re on a team that is playing to see if some of the guys from the minors can earn spots with the big club going forward. The grind of the season gets magnified in August, so when Norris can’t get his pitches over or when Happ’s baby steps forward put him back on his ass, those things become the bright snapping flags waving in the continual stiff breeze of losing.

The Brewers, sweeping their first series at Minute Maid, scored six of their seven runs with two outs. Again, they seemed almost nonchalant in their scoring, confident that they would win and so did just enough to kick the Astros around without having to stretch. Milwaukee is a good team and the clear differences between them and the Astros couldn’t be more pronounced. Folks, if you were wondering what it would look like to see the differences between a good minor league team and what it takes to win in the majors, look no further because you’re seeing it night after night in Houston.

Greinke didn’t dominate with good stuff, he was staked to a good lead and was able to throw what he wanted to when he wanted because he knew the Astros wouldn’t threaten. Indeed, the usual miscues on the basepaths and failures with runners on proved him right and kept the home nine from even appearing to be in the game.

The youth movement continues. Altuve got two hits, drove in one and scored by running through a Dave Clark stop sign. Bogusevic got a pinch hit and scored a run; Downs broke his schneid and Lee drove in two. Martinez looked capable in left, and Shuck has a good eye at the plate.

Them’s the turds to be polished on this evening, before they jet off to face an Arizona team that is fighting the Giants for first place in the NL West.

In the night your love’s a beacon
That’s the light l’ve been seeking.

I’m pleading, baby take away the pain.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Dickities 3
Astros 4

W: Melancon | L: Ondrusek

Having jettisoned two of the tenured stars of the last few years for a parade of prospects, the Astros had some holes to fill to field a team when they met the pimply, misshapen asses at Minute Maid Monday. The two recent call-ups combined with another young gun to create some large excitement in a 10-inning walk-off win. Who are these guys?

JD suggested “Hello! My name is…” stickers for the youth movement but fans who didn’t know them found out pretty quickly who they were. Facing Arroyo in the 2nd after a Carlos Lee walk, recent AAer J.D. Martinez blooped a high pop-fly to shallow center that landed between 3 converging Reds. In possibly the most ridiculous baserunning boner on record, when the ball was scooped up by Stubbs, Lee was inexplicably rounding 2nd. An average throw to 3rd caught Lee by 8 feet for the 1st out. After Barmes singled, AA call-up Jimmy Paredes stood in for his 1st major league at-bat. With a 2-2 count, he patiently found Arroyo’s K pitch and sent it deep to the RCF gap for a 2-run triple. Q added a double to roughly the same spot in RCF to score Paredes to put the Astros up 3-0

Bud got banged around throughout his 5 innings but held off the damage to 3 runs before leaving with a blister issue. The bullpen did an uncharacteristically good job holding of the Reds to 1 hit for 5 more innings as this one stayed locked at 3 until the bottom of the 10th.

Q started the festivities off with a single off of Ondrusek. PH and the man that is Angel Sanchez followed with another base hit and the “crowd” started to stir. With Bogusevic up, the Dickities decided to load the bases and draw the infield in a bit to take their chances on a play at the plate. Young Jose Altuve slapped a liner past Ondrusek that appeared to be headed into CF but Brandon Phillips made a diving play on the infield grass and gunned it in to Hanigan at the plate. The throw looked to beat Q to the plate but the ball bobbled out of Hanigan’s glove and Q was called safe. Game over!

As the team crowded around Q and Altuve jumping around like they just won the division, I thought to myself how much I enjoyed this game. I pretty much turned off the last one I watched. Despite the moves that were made and the gnashing of teeth that accompanied them, I still love the Astros and if these are the Astros now, I love ’em, too. Thanks for the excitement, kids!