Cubs 3, Astros 0
W:Wood (3-3) L:Rodriguez (6-6)

Sometimes if you revel in a dream, a fantasy…sometimes it becomes reality.

In the spring before my last year in college, I got engaged. In retrospect it was stupid, but at the time everything in my life was accelerated. I couldn’t wait to graduate, get a real job, get married, start the rest of my life. Everything I did was on a compressed timetable, all of it was moving at the fastest possible pace because I needed to get out and get on with it RIGHT NOW.

I was so proud, young and in love
Head in the clouds, a gift from above
I held your hand all through the storms
Nowhere to rest, nowhere to run

You’ve got to hold me, hold me, hold me
Baby, try to understand
You’ve got to cool me, cool me, soothe me like nobody can
Like nobody can
Teardrops must fall
Teardrops must fall
Teardrops must fall

The Astros are struggling in a month-long Tar Pit. As hopeful and defiant as they have been in stretches this season, they are now at the mercy of their own weaknesses and the long season is in danger of becoming their enemy. The bats have been silent for a month now. Young teams spend their growth learning how to not lose a different way each night. This team is making strides in that category, because they seem to be settling in to losing by virtue of having no offense at all.

They’ve forgotten how to take pitches. The walks they got earlier are gone, replaced by swings outside the strike zone and their conjoined twin, taking pitches for strikes. This isn’t a run of bad luck, it’s a run of bad hitting and poor discipline.

The piece-of-shit Cubs, in free fall and in last place, took the broom to Houston today and spanked them like it was Fantasia. Bewitched by their own impotence, this team is a threat to be no-hit every night.

***

My fiancee went back to Houston for the summer, and the plan was to get married when she came back. Inseparable as you’d expect two teenagers who were perfectly matched to be, we’d decided that spending those couple of months mostly apart was a good thing, a difficult but ultimately strengthening move. I took the separation as a benediction for two months of debauchery and in the middle of all of that was Sheila.

Sheila was a nice girl, and she didn’t do what bad girls did. We’d caught each other’s eye working at a restaurant and with Dawn out of town we were free to get to know each other a little better.

I told her at the beginning that I was engaged, and that nothing was going to change that. Whatever happened between us was something we did, knowing that it had an end in a little less than two months and that end was a wall, final and immutable. She agreed and in a couple of weeks we’d gone from hanging out with each other to seriously making out every night. Still, this pretty Irish girl had boundaries too and her resistance to my persistence was admirable, if not entirely honorable. After all, I was engaged.

By week three she was spending the night half the week and I was showing her everything I’d learned in my too-fast apprenticeship to my life. Devouring the entire canon of John Holmes, I knew pacing, some interesting positional varieties, and the best Dirk Diggler-esque lines designed to heighten the mental aspects. On the off nights I’d go to the clubs in search of prey, pressing hard against all the boundaries I had left before August rolled in.

The whirlwind of the summer spun faster and faster, the tighter circle becoming a hidden metaphor for my life. Acceleration wasn’t enough, it had to build exponentially while I juggled as many different items in the thin wild mercury as could possibly be suspended in the blink of an eye. Drugs, work, women, music were the raging streams, their currents powerful yet flowing into each other all hours of the days and nights, becoming one elemental force. There was no longer a separation, but now a single roaring blast from the alchemy of that summer and the compression of years into weeks.

Sheila was spending most of her time at my place by mid-July. Not quite moved in, she’d go to her place every day but more often than not we’d end up back at my place for the night. I enjoyed this, she was that rare girl who not only was easy to get along with, she was also very pretty, and completely comfortable with this temporary arrangement that we were mining so deeply. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my last free summer.

We walk the street, and I hold your hand
As we stroll along, I can’t understand
How a love can live in this desolate land

Broken windows, and broken hearts
You are cheated before you start
Was there ever a chance?
No, there was never a chance

Wandy pitched pretty well, as have the starters for much of this run of no runs, this spell of no hits. If the only way they can tie is by pitching a shutout, well, that’s a taller order than most staffs can fill, let alone this cast of the Weird and the Damned. Wandy only gave up five hits in seven innings to this brutally awful Cub team but when you have no margin for error you have no chance to win and that’s what happened out there today.

***

One night towards the end of July, we were on the couch fooling around as usual. I had her shirt off, fingernails lightly caressing the backs of her arms while our tongues danced in between bites of full lips. I remember her smell, fresh and clean with a growing hint of spice. Her pale, freckled skin was a direct contrast to my fiancee’s tan, and her softness was unusual to me, a special gift. She broke the kiss and said something about a day in August, some place she wanted me to go with her to. I smiled and told her that I was going to get married in August, and we both knew that.

We kissed again, but she was different. I knew it was going to come to this, despite the fair warning. She stiffened, and I could tell that she was caught in that dim fog between what she knew and what she wanted. Her relaxation was evaporating and then I felt the tears on my lips.

The perfume burned his eyes
holding tightly to her thighs
And something flickered for a minute
and then it vanished and was gone

Carlos Lee took his time deciding whether he should go to Los Angeles until the Dodgers pulled the offer and made up his mind for him. Word is that while on the plane to Pittsburgh he was coming closer to deciding, thinking maybe that he should accept it. This is the typical reaction time we’d come to see in left field, but he seemed to be so much sharper when he was playing first base. Fan reaction among TZ dwellers is mixed but no one appears to be happy that the punchless big man is going to hang around a little longer. Maybe he’ll end up in LA, maybe he’ll get dealt somewhere that his no-trade doesn’t disallow, or maybe he’ll be showered with boos when he plays out this last season as an Astro. I’ll remember him fondly as a terrific professional hitter, one who never had the real adulation of the fans but who delivered regularly for years. The selfish side of me wishes he’d taken the trade so that the Astros could start working on the Brett Wallace Experience. Time will tell. Time heals all.

Remember that neither Romeo nor Juliet survived the play.

by Austro

June 30, 2012

FTC 3, Astros 2

WP: Matt “Please Trade Me” Garza
LP: JA “Watch Me Work” Happ

I recently started a new job, and one of the benefits is that it keeps me off of 183 and MoPac. Every morning I wind my way around over to the Burnet and Anderson area, and I go past a couple of bus stops near the office. At one bus stop in particular, there is always one or two blind people waiting for the bus. And this week I noticed something interesting: on three or four occasions there was a blind person walking down the sidewalk, tapping in front with his white cane, trailed by a sighted person. This person wasn’t walking alongside offering her arm, but rather trailing behind silently. My guess is that she is an instructor of sorts, helping the blind person get the hang of navigating the area.

I bring this up because I’m thinking of inquiring about borrowing two or three of the blind people to use as courtesy runners for the Astros. There is absolutely no chance that they could do a worse job than the Astros themselves, and they might well be an improvement. Today’s game brought more baserunning slapdickery, the “highlight” being JD Martinez — who apparently hasn’t been told that there’s a very good reason he’s not competing at the Olympic Trials up in Eugene — deciding to go first to third on a single to left field. Yes, Soriano is a horrific defender, and it makes sense to exploit that when possible, but in this case even Soriano was going to win. That realization evidently crept into JD’s consciousness about halfway to third base, so he compounded the error by stopping and trying to go back to second base. You can probably guess how that worked out.

The 5th inning turned out to be the decisive inning. Happ led with a single, and Schreefer, as usual, failed to move him up. But then Lowrie bunted back to the mound, and Garza did a spectacular impression of a flying walrus, crashing and burning as he tried to field the bunt. It looked like the Astros might be about to get a gift from the Cubs, but then Lee grounded into a double play in spite of the fact that the Cubs took about 30 seconds around second base. Hopefully the Dodgers weren’t watching that.

Valbuena led off the bottom of the 5th with a walk (one of four issued by Happ) and was sacrificed to second by Garza (see how that’s done, Schreefer?). Then Castro hacked a miserable opposite field single to left, scoring Valbuena. Up came the 30-year-old wunderkind Rizzo, and he deposited the ball in the right field stands, scoring two and giving the Cubs the lead and, ultimately, the win.

The Astros had one more chance in the 6th when CJ walked with one out. Castro followed with a single to left center, but — wait for it — CJ decided to try for third and was called out. He probably was safe, but it was really close and he overslid the bag, and Welke rung him up. That was pretty much the last threat.

Happ pitched six adequate innings, giving up five hits and striking out six but walking four. He could have been better, but he certainly could have been worse, too. The bullpen did fine, but the offense just couldn’t string anything together.

We get one more chance to kick these assholes in the junk on Sunday at 1pm.

*********** Play-by-play notes, for those with a strong stomach *************

1st and 2nd innings:

Sorry, I was busy trying to put out a fire at work. Happ apparently struck out the first four batters.

T3:

JD gets on. #8 (Moore) doubles. Happ Ks for first out. Shreefer knocks a ball through the hole between short and 3rd to plate JD. Lowrie hits to first, Rizzo throws home and Moore is out at the plate. Lee grounds out to 3rd to end the inning.

B3:

Garza Ks. DeJesus walks. Castro goes to a full count, then grounds into a double play.

T4:

Bogusevic leads off, takes the count full, fouls off several pitches, and walks. Johnson singles up the middle. Castro grounds the ball down the 3B line, but for some reason the Cub third baseman is over there. He bobbles the ball but still makes the double play, leaving a runner on 2nd. Then JD singles up the middle, scoring CJ, who waddles around third but scores anyway. Moore singles out into left center, but JD manages to get himself thrown out with some spectacularly bad baserunning.

B4:

Rizzo flies out to CF on the first pitch. JD with a “Rizzo the Rat” reset; I wonder how many viewers get that? Sorifuckingano singles up the middle, but he may have pulled something on that epic run to first base. LaHair grounds out 4-1 (over a diving Lee). Soto walks. Lowrie makes a great diving stop and flip to Moore at second for the force.

T5:

Happ singles to left. Schreefer out somehow. Lowrie bunts back to the mound but Garza crashes and burns and everybody is safe. Lee hits into the most frustrating double play ever; he could be the slowest human ever.

B5:

Leadoff walk for Valbuena. Good sacrifice by Garza. DeJesus makes an out somehow. Castro hacks a ball into right field for an RBI single that he totally didn’t deserve. Fucking Rizzo hits a two-run homer, giving the useless Cubs the lead. Soriano Ks; sit down, meat.

T6:

Bogusevic takes the count full, then flies out to Castro in short LF. Soriano sucks. CJ goes full then walks. Garza out, Maine in. Castro singles to left center, and Johnson decides to try for third and dies. He was probably safe, but he overslid the bag, so he got called out. Maine out, Corpas in. JD strikes out, we suck.

B6:

LaHair grounds out 3-1. Soto doubles off the ivy in LF. Barney flies out to Bogey in short RCF. Valbuena grounds out to Lowrie at short.

T7:

Moore Ks. Downs (pinch-hitting for Happ) flies out to RF. Schreefer flies out to the bunny-hopping left fielder.

B7:

Abad in to pitch. Johnson pinch-hits for whatever rag-arm the Cubs brought in last inning and doubles into the RF corner. Rather than get thrown out at 3rd, he decides to stop at 2nd. Astros may want to take note of that. DeJesus chops to 1st and advances Johnson to 3rd. Castro gets the IBB, first and third with one out. Rizzo Ks. Soriano strikes out; there is a god.

T8:

Lowrie flies out to RF. Lee strikes out looking weak. Bogusevic flies out to deep RF.

B8:

Campana grounds out 4-3, although it was close; that fucker is fast. Carpenter in to pitch. Soto grounds out 4-3. Barney singles to LCF, Schreefer can’t be bothered to pick up the ball, Martinez grabs it and throws to second, but Barney is safe. Winds up being scored an error on Schreefer. The next guy flies out to Schreefer in CF.

T9:

Marmol on to pitch. CJ strikes out on three straight pitches, which has to be a record for Marmol. Castro walks after hitting several balls hard into foul territory; sadly, he failed to kill any CubFan. Martinez flies out to RF. Moore with the Astros’ last chance, which turns out to be no chance at all.