Saturday, October 28, 2006


You have to be an Astros fan to understand. It’s that simple. I am not advertising hatred. I am not advocating the grudge. I am simply stating a fact. We were headed to the World Series. It seemed to be the final inning. We had our best closing pitcher blazing strike after strike. He hadn't given up a run in like 30 games. It was a sure thing. Lance Bergman had hit the Hero's home run to send us on our way. The feeling in Houston was overwhelming. Every gas station that you entered you would find customers, who normally would not trust one another, hugging and high-fiving -glued to the radio. It was truly THE city of Brotherly Love. There wasn't a time in Houston's history in which it more closely resembled a Christian society. The Hurricane Katrina relief effort... Child's play to the good will floating around that city.

Until, he came to bat.

Albert Pujols. A name that no one in Houston will ever remember without a certain sick feeling accompanying. Just mention his name in public and you might as well have passed gas, burrito-supreme-with-extra-guacamole-style. When Pujols hit the grand slam that prolonged our World Series journey for another game he did more than prolong our journey. We never quite recovered. We limped to the series and couldn't catch our breath. He robbed us of our home game victory and eventually the world title even though we beat the little girly birds the next game at their hometown. The home of the largest half-finished McDonald's sign.

And he couldn't just hit any old run of the mill home run. Noooooo. He had to hit a homerun that smacked the upper back wall of the stadium. I half-expected it to hit the lights and cause an explosion with all the other lights in the stadium.

So do I rejoice with the Cardinals? Nay. I do not. When I see a picture of Pujols leaping for joy, I can only share the association with a certain Lennie in that Steinbeck novel when he was joyful over the dead bunny in his pocket that he insisted on keeping and petting.

I will never forgive the Cardinals for that night. I will now and forever be, an enemy of the Cardinals franchise. Some day you'll get yours Al. It's a' comin'. ha....ha ha. HA HA HA MUHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!! (evil diminished chords play and laugh fades into echoes)


Kat said...

Preach it.

My sweet husband has some sort of weird theology that convinces him to root for the team that beat "our team" ....something about it's best to lose to the eventual winner type thing...

I'm more along the lines of the "I hope the next team pummels them into the ground."

In any case, I feel asleep during that last game of the world series so I missed all the leaping, hugging and bunnies.

Kat said...

Make that I "f-e-l-l" alseep.

Seth Ward said...

I'm with you there Kat. I'm with you. Pummel. Bigtime Pummel. Down into the dust from whence they came.

Next year... next year.


Chaotic Hammer said...

Huh. Huh-huh, huh.

You said "poo-holes".

Huh-huh, huh.