By Taras Bulba
Astros (30-39) at Angels (44-26)
Angel Stadium of Anaheim
AKA “The Halo” “The Horns of Hattin”
Monday, June 17, 9:05 CDT-FSN
Tuesday, June 18, 9:05 CDT-KNWS
Wednesday, June 19, 9:05 CDT-FSN
Houston completes its tour of the American League West with a scratch and sniff of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim and Greater Orange County, a team that has raped and pillaged its way to a record in major league baseball second only to the Red Sox. Yeah, they’re a bunch of Angelinos, fond of doing lunch and using “babe” a lot in sentences, but this team has been a juggernaut, going 27-9 since May 9th after some early season injuries. Sterling starting pitching, a solid bullpen, and serial raking occurring throughout the lineup has meant bad news for opposing teams. However, a couple of injuries on Saturday to their number five and six hitters (Garret Anderson and Casey Kotchman) may slow them down a bit. At least it will give Scioscia something to do and keep him a little busy ( managing a real good team in the Arena League most often finds him already passed out under the buffet table before the game has even ended). So, what’s so good about the Angels? The team is fast—both in the field and on the bases (they lead the AL in steals). Left fielder Reggie Willitz and and centerfielder/HGH enthusiast Gary Matthews, along with third baseman Chone Figgins provide speed at the top and bottom of the lineup. Orlando Cabrera is having a banner year at short, both in the field and at the plate. They’ve got solid catchers in Mike Napoli and Jose Molina and a young star in Howie Kendrick at second. And then there is Vladimir “Salahadin” Guerrero. Like Moises Alou, he enjoys urinating on his hands and knocking the shit out of the ball. Vlad is not picky about the strike zone—he’ll hit the ball wherever. He’s not fond of speaking English and can take some curious routes to balls hit to right field (is there a correlation?). But he can damn sure come up firing when he gets to a ball hit his way. That means you, Lance Berkman. Pitching wise, the Angels are looking impressive, with Lackey, Cologne, Escobar, and Santana anchoring the rotation and a bullpen that has exhibited real shut down effectiveness with Shields and Carrasco setting up Francisco Rodriguez. They are exactly the type of club that can dominate—they can score and they can defend.
You’re not in Kansas City, Dorothy Astro. Better add some steak to go with the sprouts if you want to beat these boys.
By ‘strosrays
SMELLS LIKE TEAM SPIRIT
Here we are now, entertain us
Mariners (35-28) at Astros (27-39)
Minute Maid Park, 501 Crawford St., Houston, TX 77002
a/k/a “The Heart-Shaped Man In A Juice Box”
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▪Friday, June 15 (7:05 p.m. CDT) – FSN
▪Saturday, June 16 (6:05 p.m. CDT) – KNWS (Kick-ass Nine Watt Signal)
▪Sunday, June 17 (1:05 p.m. CDT) – FSN
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Fell On Black Days
Whatsoever we’ve feared has come to life. The Astros, who admittedly had some pretty obvious holes coming into the 2007 season, have verified about ten times over by now that they are, at best, presently a mediocre team. Any sliver of hopeful news, or brief interlude of good play, is almost immediately followed by some depressing reminder that this team ain’t going anywhere anytime soon. Two steps forward, three steps back.
Well, it is depressing if one thought they were going anywhere in the first place. And we won’t even get into the agonizing, vein-popping daily hell the fans who know better than Tim Purpura and Phil Garner and everybody else combined are going through. The season could’ve been saved if those idiots had only listened! Instead, their little conspiracy of mediocrity has prevailed once again. Goddammit! Line up the bastards, all we want is the truth. It is enough to make one want to call up Rich Lord, or Charlie Palillo. How would we know that this could be our fate?
On the other hand, the world weary, cynical Astros fan who expects nothing good to ever happen, in a fear-driven attempt to protect himself from any disappointment at all (God bless, what a sensitive mess), is no better than the hot-headed morons who think they know the answers, if only someone would fucking listen.
One of the hardest life lessons being an Astros fan has taught me is that a good deal of the time, things don’t go my way at all, and there is not a fucking thing I can do about it. There is no recourse, no one I can call and complain to, no one’s ass I can go kick to make it all better. Sometimes, even, you’ll find me sitting by myself, no excuses that I know. I just have to take it, all the better if I can do so with a little grace, and then move on. It takes some time to learn this, and how to do it; to balance precariously between being an angry know-it-all, and a baseball nihilist. Of course, like a surprising number of things one can learn from playing and/or being a fan of baseball, this almost existential patience has direct applications to everyday life as well. I used to marvel at my parents’ ability to wait seemingly forever for me to come around, while I was careening around all wild-ass and directionless from about age 14 to 25 or so. But I finally did come around (sort of), and all the while they exhibited this preternatural calm and patience with me, like they knew it would come eventually, all along. The thing is, when I became aware enough to realize what they had so amazingly done, basically having shepherded me (and three equally unrestrained siblings) through the minefield of adloescence and young adulthood, in the anything goes 1970’s, no less, and with a lot of extra crap and obstacles thrown in, all the while maintaining a measure of dignity and not going out of their fucking minds; well, I was awestruck by it. It reminded me of watching a concert pianist, or someone who was really good at woodworking or drawing or some other art that was entirely beyond my grasp. I wasn’t so much impressed by all the hard work and effort that went into mastering the skill, because I couldn’t even imagine myself being able to do it at all. I knew I would never have that kind of patience and wisdom and confidence in the future, and would be more likely go completely stark raving batshit as a parent, myself.
What’s funny is, that sort of worldy-wise restraint began to come to me, anyway, almost despite myself. Having a mouthy fourteen-year-old will test anyone, and I have always been one to swing first and worry about the consequences later, figuratively and literally. So I am a little amazed those times when I am provoked and instead of going off, I hold back and do something infinitely more wise. Where the hell did that come from? I sure did not see it coming.
This is the time for acting like adults, Astros fans. A time for being clear-eyed, and understanding exactly what it is we are looking at here. A time for taking the long view. We are watching a team in a transitional phase that is trying to compete at the same time, bless them. But that is really, really hard to do. There will likely be many more bumps in the road, this season and beyond, before they get back to where we want them, to where we hope they should be. Meantime, we should try and remember what a cool thing it is to be able to watch this team, any team, go out ond play on the green grass every day and night. And that sometimes, the lessons of baseball and the lessons of life do converge. All good things. In their time.Read More
Grunge ball, Johjimi & the pink robots, Weaver manicures his lidA’s 6, Astros 5 (11 innings)
W: Embree | L: Moehler | S: Casilla
Biggio 1-1 (PH) 2,985
OWA contributor Ty in Tampa is flying all over the country sampling beers at every stop and will miss his scheduled recap, and since I am working the graveyard shift this week, this will be short. Not quite the JackAstro classic shortness from last night, but very brief. I was still sleeping through the first 5 innings, so read the GZ for more detail. I think.
Defensive whiz shortstop Adam Everett fractured his right fibula and will miss at least 4-8 weeks after a collision with a horse in shallow left field in the 4th inning of todays afternoon contest against the Oakland A’s and had to be carted off the field. Eric Bruntlett was recalled after the game from AAA Round Rock to fill AE’s roster spot.
The Astros lost the game, too. And the series.
Game Zone thread here.
Astros 5, A’s 4 (11 innings)
W: Borkowski | L: Flores
Pigpen’s path to 3,000: 2,983 (3-5, home sweet home)
AP recap & box score
Astros.com recap (DuBose)
The American League Athletics of Oakland came to town to try their brand of Moneyball on the corner of Texas Avenue and Crawford Street, only to go back to their hotel bankrupt after the Astros light-hitting duo of Brad Ausmus and Adam Everett paired up for the game winning run in the 11th inning.Read More
