Hello, Astros!

I didn't deliberately set out to skip last night's and tonight's games, but it largely worked out that way. Last night, I went to a party and impolitely hushed every single late-arriving guest who wanted to update me on the score in the hope that I would catch the game on archive. This worked until I arrived home and was almost immediately informed that Oswalt got the win and Ensberg finally hit a home run. Which was great -- usually when I try to maintain total radio silence, I end up coming home to find that Oswalt has suffered a major injury and Jeff Kent's leg has broken off and the Astros have lost 20-0. But it sort of sucked the life out of my plan to watch the game.

Today, I went to an afternoon movie with a friend, figuring we'd be done in time for me to catch the 6PM Saturday start. But then she wanted to have coffee, and we started talking, etc., and suddenly it was nearly eight o'clock. I hopped into my car and onto the freeway; the bottom of the fifth was just starting and the Astros were down 6-1. It was just about the time that I was passing between Minute Maid Park and the enormous Ameriquest blimp circling it that Rangers SS Michael Young bobbled that Bagwell hit, and Ensberg came to the plate. Which you must know already what happened then: He hit his second home run of the 2004 season, a grand slam.

The inning continued for close to 20 miles, all the way to the freeway exit to my neighborhood. When it ended:

Houston 8
Texas 6

And none of those were Carlos Beltran's, thanks very much.

...

Of course, now the score is tied again; in the bottom of the sixth, the bases are loaded with one out, and easy-out Raul Chavez is at the plate. Only Chavez hit an RBI single in the last inning; only this is suddenly the team I remember from April. What's it going to be, Astros? Are you for real?

Nine pitches later, a groundball to short! Two runs in! Chavez runs out a bobbled GIDP and is safe!

...

Tonight, you are for real. Welcome back.