Ten Run Field

Posted on June 19, 2013 by Ron Brand in Featured, Game Recaps

Astros 10, Boozy Seligs 1

W: Lyles (4-1)
L: Figaro (1-1)

Contributed by Reuben

Everyone should be particularly thankful that the Astros won tonight, because not only does it save you all from another rambling, whiny, angry recap of a Tuesday loss, it also probably saved you, and me, from another embarrassing, cringe-worthy headline like “Mirage of Figaro”.

This was a great game for the Astros. One that just leaves you with a nice, peppy feeling all around. They trounced their hated division rivals, er, interleague strangers, the Brewers. Carlos Pena hit a moonshot 3-run HR. Marwin laid down a sweet squeeze bunt. Paul Clemens pitched two whole innings without giving up a homer. But tonight was all about…

Unable to complete the sweep

Posted on June 18, 2013 by BudGirl in Game Recaps

White Sox 4, Astros 2
W:Jones (3-4) L: Norris (5-7) SV: Reed (20)
recap
gamezone

Well, one bad inning and Bud takes the loss. But, I still think the Astros had a great series against the White Sox. I didn’t see any of it since I was not at home, yep, the Comcast Sports Network got me since I was at my parents in San Antonio.

Three out of four is still pretty damn good.

Last week I recommended that to get the best information check out the Bus Ride. OSF has a great list to track signings. I totally recommend you check both out often.

Good Stuff
Sunday night I went to a NBA Finals game. OMG it was so much fun. I am finally getting my voice back. Spurs fans are very loyal. I knew I didn’t like LeBron James prior to this series, but geez, he is a whiner. And the Heat dives more than Greg Louganis at the Olympics.

The Proteus

Posted on June 18, 2013 by Ron Brand in Featured, Series Previews

When you take this stuff day by day, you live and die with it in the beginning. After a while the ups and downs get smoothed out a little, even if there are more of one than the other. As long as expectations are not shattered, things don’t stray too far out of whack, well then the little anomalies are more like gravel in the road than speed bumps that you notice and slow down for.

Then one day you wake up and you find out that a scientist in Eastern Europe has perfected a way to shrink individual atoms on a permanent basis. In a coma as a result of an assassination attempt while being spirited away to the West, it’s has fallen to the CMDF (Combined Miniaturized Deterrent Forces) to remove the clot on Dr. Benes’ brain so the Forces of Truth and Liberty may profit from his discovery.

In much the same way that you might feel about the concept of Raquel Welch as a scientist with a certain amount of ability, you might be surprised to learn that since May 15, the Astros are 16-15. It is true. Welcome…to the Fantastic Voyage.

I’m not suggesting that this team is really a better-than-losing-half-its-games team, no. It’s just that some things are beyond completely unexpected, and even though there’s no way that reality applies here, when the girl smiles at you, even for an instant, you do feel like things are better than they really are.

They sure as hell aren’t doing it with the bats. Over the last month that .233/.285/.380 is below this season’s average by a shade. No, it’s the pitching. Over the last week, team ERA is 2.25; over the last two weeks, 3.23 and over the last month, 3.43. In June, opposing batters have a .665 OPS against the Astro staff.

Of course, most of this is really just the result of a couple of win streaks. From May 27-June 3, the Astros went 7-1 against Colorado and the Angels. June 12-16 they were 4-0 against Seattle and the White Sox. These two streaks bookended an 0-6 stretch against Baltimore, Kansas City and Seattle. There was one 7-2 run through the entirety of 2012 and it was in mid-May, so that year-long stretch of badness shows this latest example of success as the Colossus of Speed Bumps that it is.

I know this isn’t sustainable. Not many of their pitching numbers are, especially among the starters, so no one should misinterpret this as anything more than it is, a manifestation of luck. All I’m saying is that she smiled at you and didn’t look away when you noticed. Go over to her table. Buy her a drink. Right now, in this moment, you’re Superman. Enjoy it while you can.

***

It says a lot, too much really, that year in and year out when we think of the Brewers we think of pure, unbridled hatred for that steaming pile of shit who used to own that team. The shambling, mumblemouthed heyboy who cheerfully takes every single arrow he can get in front of while he searches for more ways to debase himself in service to the Dollar and the rich men who jerk his strings. High atop his shine box, he is proud to take a public teabagging if it means that his masters enjoy even a slight increase to their control over revenue streams. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s shown the restraint he has in not pursuing even stronger methods of Almighty Buck Enhancement for the Lords of Baseball. Why pace this march? There’s money left in wallets all across America, and no end to the suckers who’ll gladly give it over!

No, it’s time to look forward. The past is over. No reason to let bad feelings fester.

Milwaukee Brewers vs. Houston Astros
Tuesday, June 18, 7:10 PM, Minute Maid Park
Alfredo Figaro, 1-0, 3.47 vs. Jordan Lyles, 3-1, 3.48
Promotion: Coca-Cola Value Days

Milwaukee Brewers vs. Houston Astros
Wednesday, June 19, 7:10 PM, Minute Maid Park
Kyle Lohse, 2-6, 3.84 vs. Erik Bedard, 2-3, 4.82
Promotion: Coca-Cola Value Days

Milwaukee Brewers vs. Houston Astros
Thursday, June 20, 1:10 PM CDT, Minute Maid Park
Yovani Gallardo, 6-6, 4.41 vs. Lucas Harrell, 5-7, 4.48
Promotion: Drawstring Bag Presented By MLB Network

Hot damn, a drawstring bag. Perfect for slipping over our tormentor’s head before he’s knocked unconscious with a hammer and thrown in the trunk. You don’t have to drive far in this town to find an overgrown, swampy area thick with mosquitoes and growth that hides the abandoned cinderblock storage units. He won’t miss the lack of air conditioning or light, because there’s a gap in one of the boards that covers a sliver of the ceiling that pulled away when the soft ground settled. Those rats? They’re his friends. They give him little kisses at night, on his toes, his thighs, his fingers, his ears. The kisses stung in the beginning but not so much anymore, not when his stomach has distended from the meager scoop of cold, maggoty cereal that is dropped into his dark little domain from time to time. Not like time means anything any more – it’s been more than weeks, but there’s really no way to know how long he’s been here.

Too weak to try to make any noise, he sometimes thinks of when his arms will be able to slip out of the zip ties that are laced through the metal cables that hold him in the box. By then he’ll probably be too weak to stand though, and that sliver of daylight was already out of reach when he could stand upright. And it’s so hot in here.

The first few times they slid the locks and came inside to piss in his mouth it stung so badly he convulsed across the floor and sobbed until the pain from where they had cut out his tongue had subsided. Watching the rats nibble bit by bit on the lump of flesh in front of him left him strangely detached. After the full day of throaty noise he’d managed to howl through the swelling and agony, of course. Now he welcomes their visits to give him water, because it’s so hot, so hot in here and his throat hurts so much…

Sometimes it’s not nice when my mind wanders.

Astros Wipe It On The Sox

Posted on June 16, 2013 by Ron Brand in Featured, Game Recaps

Astros 5, White Sox 4

W: Keuchel (4-3)
L: Santiago (2-5)

I was going to write something about fathers, and kids, and how good they can make you feel, especially when you’ve had to give over control and trust that they’ll use what they’ve learned from being around you to be good people.

I’ve written about generations of baseball fans, passing down the game and its enjoyment. I’ve written about fathers who were terrible people, visiting all kinds of torment and horror on their children. But as I sit here in the evening, after relaxing and hanging out with my kids all day, I don’t think anyone wants to hear any more of my skewed angles or bullshit. Some of us had good days today, some of us had different kinds. I miss my dad, but I’m good at burying things so I work harder at making my kids happy. I hope most of you had good days today, and that the ones who didn’t can get past them well enough.

So today’s focus will be that the Astros won, again, over a White Sox team that you might expect would’ve beaten the crap out of our lowly nine. Except looking at the W/L records you’ll see they’re only two wins better, at 28-38. Certainly in the neighborhood of 26-44, but farther away from the vacant convenience store and what’s left of the chicken place that burned down.

Houston took a three run lead in the second on a whistling double in the corner by Dominguez, clearing loaded bases. The Sox scraped together two runs in the sixth and seventh, both on leadoff triples, but otherwise their bats were quiet, with eight baserunners through seven innings.

Keuchel is either enjoying the same success that Jeriome Robertson had in 2003, or he’s found some magical way to make every metric shut up. He’s not beating himself with walks, and he’s getting batters to hit his pitches. Luck, voodoo, small sample size – whatever it is, we’re in the middle of that bubble right now so look around and enjoy it while it lasts.

In the bottom of the seventh, Castro raked a two-run job off of Thornton for a 5-2 lead. This became necessary insurance when Veras was touched for a two-run reply by De Aza in the ninth, but Veras was able to hold on otherwise for his 14th save.

The Astros go for the sweep tomorrow night.

Platitudinal Adjustment

Posted on June 14, 2013 by Ron Brand in Featured, Game Recaps

Astros 2
White Sox 1

Contributed by NeilT

Except for Wednesdays, it’s been a tough couple of weeks, with the Astros going 3-7 in their last ten games. It could be worse though. I tried to turn things around last Saturday by bringing back Astroleena, but then I was informed by a very good source that I’d misspelled her name: Astrolina, not Astroleena. Fail. We have to move on.

But it is what it is, and since we’re playing the White Sox, and since the White Sox are just about my favorite team ever, what with Disco Night, gangster styling, and baseball shorts, I thought it was time to work smarter, not harder. After all, there is no I in team, and this has to be a team effort. Last week saw Fredia criticizing Porter for how he staffed the bullpen, Ron Brand criticizing Porter for how he used the bullpen, everybody criticizing Chris Carter for his very occasional strike-outs, everybody criticizing PeteM for showing up, Mr. Happy surely criticizing some pitcher, and JimR surely criticizing Mr. Happy for criticizing some pitcher. Even this series’ preview seemed to me to be a wee bit less than chipper. C’mon, people! Too much negativity, man! Happiness is a choice! It’s time for some positive vibes, and that takes serious platitudinal adjustment. It’s time to repress those individual downers for the collective good!

To help things along, this recap is well-stocked with useful and positive catch-phrases that you should try to work into your daily postings. Perception is reality, and use of these handy phrases will infiltrate the team psyche and guarantee success on the field. Just think positive: As fans you have a responsibility. Failure is not an option.

This is a season where you have to look on the bright side. The Astros are rebuilding, and time will tell, but it will all be worth it in the end. Their time will come. Patience is a virtue.

It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.

First Inning. Bedard pitching. Don’t let it eat at you. Three up, three down.

Sale for the Sox, Barnes strikes out, Altuve singles and steals second, Martinez and Corporan strike out. Three Ks. What’s done is done. Get on with your life.

Second Inning. Konerko BB. Dunn BB. Viciedo F7, Keppinger L5, Wells 1B, Flowers K. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

Chris Carter Ks. Own it and move on. Cedeno L4, Paredes 5-3. It could be worse.

Third Inning. Three up, three down. This is better than it could be.

Dominguez 1B, Crowe Ks, Barnes Ks, Altuve 6-4. It wasn’t meant to be.

Fourth Inning. Konerko 2B, to 3rd on passed ball. Dunn rbi sac to 9. What’s done is done. Viciendo L 9, Keppinger F8. Something will turn up.

Sox 1, Astros 0. The only thing to fear is fear itself.

Martinez F8, Corporan K, Carter L6. Don’t linger on the past.

Fifth Inning. Wells walks, Flowers Ks, Becham Ks. Ramirez 1b, Wells to 3rd. Take it one day at a time. Rios Ks.

Cedeno to 1rst on E6, Paredes K, Domingues F9. Cedeno to 2b on wild pitch. Crowe walks. Barnes to 1B on E6, Cedeno scores. Altuve 1B rbi, Martinez Ks. If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Patience is a virtue.

Sox 1, Astros 2. It all comes out in the wash.

Sixth Inning. Three up, three down. They’re in a better place.

Corporan Ks. Carter Ks. Just don’t think about it. Cedeno F8.

Seventh Inning. Cisneros in for Bedard. Keppinger F8, Wells 4-3, Flowers 1B, Becham 1B. Let it slide off your back. Ramirez 5-4. You just need to believe in yourself. A nod’s as good as a wink.

Paredes Ks, Dominguez 4-3, Crowe 1B, steals 2nd, steals 3rd, Barnes Ks. It wasn’t meant to be.

Eighth Inning. Rios Ks, Konerko 1B. Blackley for Cedeno. It’s always darkest before the dawn. Dunn 3-6 double play.

Altuve F9, Martinez 4-3, Carter Ks. You have to know you limitations. Keep a stiff upper lip.

Ninth Inning. Veras in for Blackley. Viciedo F7, Keppinger BB. This is just a bump in the road. Gillaspie F8. Flowers Ks. Good things happen to those who wait.

Bedard pitched a nice game. 14 strikeouts for Sale, who pitched a complete game. 3 Ks for Carter. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.

All things must pass.

DEAD

Posted on June 13, 2013 by Dark Star in Featured, News, Series Previews

June 14-17, 2013

Chicago White Sox (28-35) vs. Houston Astros (23-44)

Minute Maid Park
501 Crawford
Houston, TX 77002

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SCHEDULE
• Friday June 14, 2013 — 7:10 p.m. CDT

• Saturday June 15, 2013 — 6:15 p.m. CDT

• Sunday June 16, 2013 — 1:10 p.m. CDT

• Monday June 17, 2013 — 7:10 p.m. CDT

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DEAD

If somebody is haunting your mind
Look in my eyes, let me hide you
From yourself and all your old friends
Every good thing comes to an end

I’m taking a rain check for this here Series Preview. I hope it is okay with you.

I wanted to quit this fucking Series Preview gig altogether, here at Orangewhoopass. I grew to fucking hate the process; and – even more – to hate myself for not being able to steadily produce within it. And I just wanted to fucking quit, altogether; but I could not bring myself to do it. I still want to write stuff here, and enjoy it, and have other people enjoy it.

But I just cannot do it right now. Not this time, anyway. I hope it is okay.

I was out fishing last weekend; out in the Gulf of Mexico with a friend of mine, on his boat. Fishing for black drum. We caught a few of them, too.

At one point, not much was happening, and I was just sitting there in a chair on his boat, just kind of contemplating the sea water as it floated by. Meditating. Thinking about how my life had drifted by, mostly; just like this sea water was drifting by. Pretty and blueish green (we were 18 or so miles out from Bolivar, near some unmanned gas rigs) it was, but even so, mostly unnoticed. Mostly not worth noticing.

It was the violence of life that usually roused me from my somnolence along the way, at least temporarily.

Back in pre-school, they always told us about the happy times, and the gaiety of life … but, as I recall, no one ever spent too much time on the violent aspects. How you could be going happily along, then suddenly – like a great shark rising unexpectedly out of the water to take away your catch, just as you were about to boat it – the violence would rise up and snatch your best friend away when he was 9 (under the guise of some kind of cancer); or kill you cousin, or brother; or make your dad a drunk and ruin your home life forever. It never fucking failed.

It never fucking failed.

I would be roused to the utter ugliness of existence, but I never had the energy to buy into it for too long. Sooner or later I would succumb to the enticement of happiness and gaiety, once again, and believe that my life was truly charmed, and idyllic.

Until the shark jumped up again, that is; exploding through the water’s surface to twist and writhe ever so briefly in the silver sun, before snatching away my happiness again, and pulling it down, down, down … down into the darkness of the water’s depths.

That is what makes me not able to do this right now. I hope it is okay.

I’ll be happy again, though. And, next time, I promise … I’ll do better.

I hope it is okay.

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PITCHING MATCHUPS
Friday June 14, 2013 — 7:10 p.m. CDT
CHICAGO – Chris Sale, LHP (5-4, 2.68)
HOUSTON – Eric Bedard, LHP (1-3, 5.34)

Saturday June 15, 2013 — 6:15 p.m. CDT
CHICAGO – John Danks, LHP (1-2, 4.13)
HOUSTON – Lucas Harrell, RHP (4-7, 4.52)

Sunday June 16, 2013 — 1:10 p.m. CDT
CHICAGO – Hector Santiago, LHP (2-4, 3.12)
HOUSTON – Dallas Keuchel, LHP (3-3, 4.37)

Monday June 17, 2013 — 7:10 p.m. CDT
CHICAGO – Jose Quintana, LHP (3-2, 3.86)
HOUSTON – Bud Norris, LHP (5-6, 3.87)

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DEAD

Someone was ’round here asking questions about someone who looks like you
I said I don’t know where you are
He said that he was going to be back
So I told him where you are

I was dead, just this one time. In college.

My roommate Rusty and I locked (well, barricaded) ourselves into our dorm room for a week once, my sophomore year, and did purple micro-dots, for a week. Never once left our tiny dorm room. Never bathed, or ate, once. For a week.

We were dead. Dead.

We saw hideous things in that time. I know I did, anyway. At any rate, whatever we were, neither one of us was real keen to go outside then. We were too fucking paranoid.

We finally came out of it. Me, first. I walked down the hallway of the dorm to the communal shower, with a towel. And I took a fucking shower. I bathed myself; and as I washed myself in the water, I realized how crazy it was to stay holed up in a tiny room for a week, doing powerful psychedelic drugs, and not eating or bathing or even sleeping very much. When I was done with my shower, I walked back down the hall to our room, and I convinced Rusty it was crazy, what we’d been doing; and eventually, he emerged, too.

In a way, I think we bonded, Rusty and I did … relying solely on each other in that scary fucking room, for a week.

Didn’t do me a lot of good, though; to bond with Rusty. He didn’t last too long, after that. He wasn’t all that reliable, anyway. And he was dead before I knew it, about the time I was settling down to get married the first time, and raise kids.

Gone.

His bones have been moldering in the ground for close to thirty years now. Nothing left of him. Nothing.

Just what I remember. That is all that holds him to this earth at all, anymore.

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PROMOTIONS
Friday June 14, 2013 — 7:10 p.m. CDT
Big and Bright Friday Nights – Fireworks and T-Shirts! Fuck, yeah! What more could you want? Fucking fireworks and fucking T-shirts! Fuck, yeah!

Saturday June 15, 2013 — 6:15 p.m. CDT
Orbit Bobblebelly – Fuck, yeah! Awesome! An Orbit bobblebelly! Fucking hell yes!

Sunday June 16, 2013 — 1:10 p.m. CDT
Picnic in the Park – No fucking little kids running the bases! Fuck, yeah! No fucking bratty-ass little kids! Yeah! Fuck, yeah!

Monday June 17, 2013 — 7:10 p.m. CDT
Coca-Cola Value Days – Nothing! Fuck, yeah! Fucking nothing! Oh, yeah! Fuck, yes!

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DEAD

I met an old mistake walking down the street today
I met an old mistake walking down the street today
I didn’t want to be mean about it
But I, I didn’t have one good thing to say

I have gone through powerful changes through the years, all the while hanging onto my memories of Diane and I.

She was the one who got away. She was the one I never got over, in all of this time. I cannot even explain why.

I loved her and I loved her and I loved her. And then, just like that, she was gone from me, never to return. And I still loved her. Still.

From those crazy days in college, all the way on. I never forgot her, never forgot what it felt like when I saw her walking my way, with just that hint of a smile curling up on the edge of her lip, on the left side of her face.

She was glad to see me, goddammit. No doubt about it.

Goddamn, it made me happy to see that hint of a smile.

I have gone on, and Diane has gone on. I have married, and raised children, and divorced. And remarried.

And Diane has done all the same. And now we are both happy, in our separate lives, forever apart. And we are destined to live on, and to die that way. Forever apart.

I cannot even remember what it was that made me ever think it would ever be otherwise. Why did I ever think we could be happy together, and last, and last? Maybe it was her friend, Cathleen. Upon seeing a Polaroid of Diane sitting and smiling in my lap, taken at a local club we hung out at, at the time, Cathleen had told me, “You two look like you belong together.”

I will never, ever forget what Cathleen said to me that day, or how she said it. It was like a benediction from God. I believed it immediately, with all of my heart.

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Astros lose the series, 0-4.

Strolling the hills overlooking the shore
I realize I’ve been here before
The shadow in the mist could have been anyone
I saw you, I saw you
Coming back to me

Small things like reasons are put in a jar
Whatever happened to wishes wished on a star?
Was it just something that I made up for fun?
I saw you, I saw you
Coming back to me

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DEAD
That is all I have. It sucks, and I know that it sucks.

I have asked myself and asked myself. What happened to me? How did I fall so far? Why is it I cannot even seem to string three or four coherent sentences together anymore, without it all sounding hackneyed and trite?

I am so tired, and I am so destroyed. I wish I was not, but I am.

Fuck, I am so sorry. It is not okay.

It is not okay.

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