…or, How Kylie Feels About Being Mathematically Eliminated.”
That’s a title I recently used for a short story, minus my name of course.
I can’t lie. I will always, always love my boys, win or lose. But nothing hurts like being officially eliminated. Last year it didn’t matter because they sucked so bad that the playoffs weren’t an issue. We all started this year out with big hopes and were very disappointed very quickly when things came out of the gate without the requisite “bang.” After the All-Star Break, things turned around. These last few weeks were like a honeymoon with a team finally playing as a cohesive unit and winning games.
And then the hurricane came. Drayton didn’t believe that it would come our way, and the suits in charge took too long to make a decision. Men whose families and property were in danger were expected to play games at a hostile “neutral site.” We were no-hit and our momentum destroyed in Miller Park, which might as well have been Wrigley Field.
We should have played somewhere like Arlington, for example, but complaining about that won’t get us back into the race. Nothing will. I just wish our playoff fate didn’t depend on other teams’ failures. We could win every game left in the season and still not make it. I really hope they have a fanfest. I can’t stand to let it end this way, especially without having tickets to the last two games. It just kills me to have come so far, accomplished so much without really accomplishing anything.
In the long run, which is what is important anyway, we have accomplished so much. We have improved significantly since last year, which was a year of epic disappointment. We had a good draft, signed our players, and made some very important deals. The Randy Wolf trade looks ten thousand times better than it did when it was made, and as much as I hate LaTroy Hawkins, he’s been a boon to the team.
This is different than watching the Rockies in the World Series. That was just sad because they lost all their momentum and tanked. The Astros regained their momentum, but unfortunately, outside circumstances stopped them in their happy tracks.
I hate that nobody on any of the major networks gave us credit. All the Wild Card coverage on ESPN was focused solely on the Mets and the Brewers. Just because it would have been difficult does not mean it would have been impossible.
I love Brian Moehler. Seeing his interview now on FSN makes me want to cry because he sounds like he’s going to cry. This is what these guys live and breathe for. The only analogy I can make in my own life is like working towards my degree and having someone snatch the diploma out of my hands on graduation day. It’s heart-wrenching.
I love my boys. Win or lose, they’re still my boys. I will always love them, and I am so proud of how far they have come and how far they have fought and will keep fighting, because I know they will not give up just because it’s over.
How better to go down than with a walk-off? We’re Texans. We ain’t ever giving up. We’re going out with a bang, damnit.
I love you, Astros.
…I’m sort of kind of backish.
Although I did get sick again, even after recovering from the first bout.
Anyway, I haven’t really been paying too much attention to baseball at all–too focused on school–but here are some tidbits to get you through this week until I fall back into my routine.
Poor Dan Uggla. Since the All-Star Game, he’s been batting .189 and has made a ton of errors/screwed up a bunch of plays. I really want to reprise my “Oh, Dan Uggla…” entry and just cross-country hug him. Obviously he’s been very stressed out since then, poor baby deer.
That’s really the only explanation I can come up with. I mean, he was kicking butt and taking names before the Game, and once he reverted to the early stages of Little League during the ASG he just has NOT been his wonderful, Uggla-y self.
I miss the old Danny Uggla.
Good job last night, Astros. Despite the hitters making a very subpar Randy Wolf look passable, we pulled it out and really gritted our teeth for this win. A job well done, boys.
Also a good job to the Rockies. We might actually… oh my God… finish above or near .500 this year. Don’t worry, I just knocked on wood. I am the most superstitious girl you will ever meet–I still maintain that the reason the Rockies got swept in the World Series because I wasn’t wearing my medal… or my purple socks.
Anywho, time for some ice cream and sleep.
…with Denver, Colorado, USA.
Oh my Lord.
First, let me address the Astros: I understand the Randy Wolf thing now, thanks to Richard Justice. Either we have a no. 5 starter for next year, or we get prospects if he leaves. But I do NOT understand the LaTroy Hawkins thing. I hate him because he threw at Luke Scott. Sure, he was a Rockie, but NOBODY THROWS AT LUKE SCOTT. NOBODY.
Then the rest of the world: Pudge, wtf?! Farnsy cried? Ken Griffey, double wtf? And MANNY TO LOS ANGELES? CRAPOLA ON A STICK.
Now to Denver:
First of all, I love the Rox. I was so happy to be able to listen to the games (couldn’t watch because we were going to dinner with family all over the place).
But aside from just their MLB team, I love the city. Downtown was so much fun. D’Deli in Golden was fantastic, and Avenue Grill on 17th is my new favorite restaurant. Ted’s Montana Grill in Littleton was also really good.
Visited the Mint, the school (love it! must go there), the geology museum, and the Zoo. But most importantly, I went on a tour of COORS FIELD:
Really. I loved it. Loved the school. Loved the city. The people weren’t particularly nice, but they were nicer than in California.
More about actual baseball later.