When the Astros win like this, it’s hard not to get excited about the team. The starting pitching was cask-aged Mike Hampton, 1998 vintage, the offense was potent with a broad range of contributors, and even the game management was solid, saving us from another hilariously profane meltdown by Mr. Zipp. Everything was perfect. Too perfect.
You see, I’m still having trouble figuring this team out. The whole “just when you count them out, they rebound” thing has become so predictable that it’s starting to feel like an episode of Two and a Half Men (oh, Charlie, you insufferable cad! When will you learn?) Some days, it feels like all the team needs is another piece to make the puzzle complete, and on others, you pray for flesh eating bacteria to devour the entire bullpen and coaching staff (except Clark, of course). Inevitably, I get sucked back in to the optimist’s view. Where’s Jake Peavy’s agent’s number, anyway?
Friday’s game saw Hampton making the Pyroots his bitch (again), throwing seven strong innings that looked like a more wily version of the old bulldog we knew and loved before the Intervening Unpleasantness. Even Fulchino got in on the act, providing two solid innings, saving the marquee (-ish) arms of the bullpen to fight another day. On the other side, Jeff Karsten’s day started pretty well, until his irrestistable suckiness met the immovable object (Q, who took advantage of a rare start to rope an even more rare triple, plating two runs in the sixth). After that, all hell broke loose, with eleven batter in the inning, capped by El Kabong’s grand slam off newly arrived reliever Evan Meek (who will inherit only a trip back to AAA instead of the earth).
When the dust settled, the eleven hitters had scored 7 runs, giving Hampton the foundation for his fourth win of the season, bringing his record to an even 4-4. Fulchino didn’t earn a hold, because that’s a bullshit stat, which even Bill James will tell you.
The Mud and Blood have two more games ahead against the Bucs, one of which is already underway, because I’m a lazy ass and I blacked out last night after reading OregonStrosFan’s brutal Carradine joke in the Game Zone last night. Turns out fits of laughter are another, more productive way to pass out by yourself.
Talk it up in the regularly scheduled Game Zone (already in progress)
