I caught myself with a little voice in the back of my head hoping the Astros would blow it to the Twins. That is an evil voice and a voice that is trying let the Goths into the Astros’ Roman Dynasty. But I can’t help but say that voice had a very solid reasoning. Remember how Chuck McGill was right about Jimmy the entire time? (“He defecated in a sunroof!”). I’m worried the voice may be right about the Astros.
Call me a fake fan if you want, but I remember getting Helmet Sundays as a kid in the 300s section of Minute Maid (I was still calling it Enron at that point). I can tell you all about Wandy Rodriguez. I get excited when I have a chance to bring up willy Taveras and no one knows who I’m talking about. Hell, I even remember Morgan Ensberg talked about how he would’ve been a banker if he wasn’t a baseball player. I have signed balls from Craig Biggio, Jimmy Wynn, and even 18th-inning hero Chris Burke.
This is not me trying to flex my ball knowledge, this is me saying I genuinely care about this team. And I have for a very long time. And will for a very long time. I happily talk about the “Dark Arts” like it was a good thing because I’m so used to defending this team.
Do you remember when Houston got clocked by Hurricane Harvey, and the Astros asked our in-state brethren for a little scheduling help? You know, because the city was still underwater. And the Rangers said no and made us play in Tampa instead. I cannot lose to those guys. When Houston was showing its best, “Arlington” was showing its worst.
The Rangers are incredibly hot right now. Did they Man City their team together by spending half a billion? Sure of course they did. But they’re running through teams in the postseason. And while the Astros have been good, I’m somewhat worried they’re not good enough. I want to believe, but the oldhead Houston sports fan in me tells me the time has come for the dynasty to end. But it can’t be at their hands.
They’re the little brother. They’re the one strike away crew. They’re the team the Lance Berkman made sure wasn’t the first World Series-winning Texas team. The Rangers are the team we point and laugh at. But right now, they’re looking like the second-best team to win (outside the Phillies, and that’s another blog for another day).
The offense is too hot and cold. I’m old enough to remember almost blowing the division because the Kansas City Royals, a team who’ve apparently been blood sacrificed for the Chiefs, are a giant slayer in the Zach Grienke derby. The bullpen scares me, and I’m also old enough to remember when Pressly worried me every time he went to the mound (I can’t do Lidge 2.0). This team has been so hit or miss this season. Maybe I’m too focused on the early-season woes that I’ve forgotten this is a 90-win team. But it just feels too perfect for the Rangers.
I’m incredibly hyped for the Battle for Texas, but I also am somewhat scared. I have sent way too many gloating texts to Rangers fans over the past month. They all know where I live, and they know that can kill me with words (see The Tempest; this is a joke just for me). So, Astros, for the love of God, don’t lose to them. I’m not asking you to destroy them; just don’t lose.
Have faith. In Dusty we trust.
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