throws like a girl

Listen, Astros: You are not for real.

Twelve wins in the last fifteen games, 43 Astros run scored in the last four days, and you are thinking of the NL wild card, aren't you? Listen, people, those wins came against the flailing, self-destructing Phillies, plus one against the hapless Cincinnati Reds, who even at six games under .500 are still playing eight games above their Pythagorean standing.

Yes, it is true that the Astros went 4-3 against the dreaded Cubs, but let's be honest. That didn't have as much to do with the quality of the Astros' play as it did with the Cubs' sudden recollection that they are the Cubs and there is very little time left in this season to start shooting at their feet, if you'll pardon a strained metaphor.

Listen, people. Not only do your Astros have to start playing better than they have played since April 9-May 9, when they went 19-9 against some mostly crap teams (sorry, Cincinnati) and the pre- 1927Yankeesesque Cardinals. But also the Cubs have to suck. Yes, I know they can do it. But the Giants also have to suck. And specifically against Houston. Do you know that Houston has personally gone 4-17 against the Giants since 2001? Houston will have to sweep them in September.

Did I mention that the San Diego Padres will also have to suck?

And what would Houston do with a postseason anyway? With 60 percent of the original starting rotation lost to injuries or suck, and the bullpen so spotty in places that it makes me want to cry (I am looking at your sorry ass face, Mike Gallo), I am betting this: Gone in three games. You've been there before, right? We've all been there before. I mean, yes, after this craptacular season, you might be thinking that getting the wild card would probably be as satisfying as winning the World Series in other years. You would be wrong. It would be exciting for about two days, and then the games would start, Atlanta would sweep our asses, and you will be exactly where you were in 2001, specifically (if you are me) lying on top of your desk on a Friday afternoon moaning incoherently to the tune of the Tomahawk Chop.

And so I say this to you. Do not start believing. Don't do the math. Don't listen with bated breath to tonight's Reds game, hoping that 5.62-ERA Brandon Backe can reach deep within himself and pull out a decent performance. You are only going to hurt yourself.

Pray for a loss tonight, people. Do it for me.

Another season crashes to an end.

It seems that Roy Oswalt will be fined but not suspended for his plunking of Cubs catcher Michael Barrett last Sunday, which good for him, but more importantly, it means that tomorrow's game will be an Oswalt/Kerry Wood rematch, and I am wondering how exactly I can get out of work mid-afternoon to watch it for myself.

I'll let Oswalt have the last word on the State of the Oswalt/Wood Union:

"I think it's good because it's coming down to the end of the season and (Watson) realized we're trying to make a run right here toward the end ... I guess he saw both sides of the game and made his decision from that. The good thing about that is he's not for one or the other. He tries to see it as fair as he can."

Which sounds nothing like an apology, does it?

I'm taking you with me this time.

Houston has just finished sweeping Philadelphia for the season, a first in my experience as an Astros fan, which seems to have been largely defined by Philly, Atlanta and San Francisco beating the pants off my team five games out of six every year. I listened to all three games, but listlessly, I confess, because my mind is still on the Cubs series last weekend, and the one that is coming up.

In that way, my experience with Philadelphia this season has been something like that of a person who has been fixed up with someone really wonderful and charming, but who is nonetheless still preoccupied by her bad breakup with Mr. Wrong in Every Way, and though I am smiling and nodding at Philly's impossibly hittable bullpen and surprisingly anemic bats, my mind is elsewhere. Specifically on those assholes from Chicago.

So let us talk about Chicago.

Gentle readers, there has been an unspoken subtext to my rantings this season, particularly my rantings about the motherfucking Chicago Cubs, which is that your intrepid correspondent has spent most of this season falling in love with a Cubs fan. No, really, gentle readers: Feel my pain. I fall in love with a Cubs fan, and said fan's team turns around and immediately begins walloping the tar out of my Astros. Naturally, this makes all those Astros losses even more bitter, and the actions of Cubs fans the world over even more loathsome. Cubs Fan, I keep thinking, if you really loved me, you would let my team win a game every once in a while.

Let it be noted that Cubs Fan is a jewel among Cubs fans: sympathetic, kind, not given to gloating. We have tried many methods to get through those terrible stretches when the Cubs and Astros play each other. First, I stopped speaking to Cubs Fan. The next series, we agreed to stop speaking on purpose, in advance, in the hopes that we might miss each other enough over the four days our teams faced each other that I would not care so much that Cubs Fan's baseball proxy had humiliated my baseball proxy. Finally, this series, we agreed to attend the games together.

I don't know what we were thinking.

Houston 4, Chicago 3

I didn't hold out a lot of hope for this matchup, I confess -- major-league-unproven Brandon Backe versus Mark "I have calves like rump roasts" Prior. Seems like a sure recipe for Astros disaster, does it not? Cubs Fan has a mysterious grudge against Prior this season because he lacks a certain, I don't know, testicularity that you can find even in the admittedly flimsy Andy Pettitte, who gutted out another 200 pitches after shredding his elbow for the third time. Cubs Fan assured me that an Astros loss was not the foregone conclusion I was expecting, but you know? I have noticed that Cubs Fan gets a lot of pleasure out of anticipating tragedy and woe for the Chicago Cubs.

And lo! The Astros took an early two-run lead on the Cubs -- thanks entirely to major-league-unproven Brandon Backe's bat -- and held it until the bottom of the eighth, when Dan Miceli did that thing he does lately where he gets two outs pretty easily, and then cannot finish off the inning. Brad Lidge came in to mop up, and gave up one run. In the top of the ninth, he returned to give up two more, and the lead, and at that point, I just covered my face with my hands and started keening.

Don't worry, Cubs Fan said, it is Latroy Hawkins coming to the mound now, and anything can happen. At the time I took this as more of Cubs Fan's love affair with epic baseball misery, but as it turns out, Cubs Fan was right: Latroy gave up a single, and then pinch-runner Jose Macias, now installed at third base, made a throwing error that I saw with my own eyes but still cannot quite believe. At this point, Cubs Fan leapt up and began pacing angrily on the landing behind our section, and after Brad Ausmus predictably grounded out and pinch-runner Mike Lamb got the IBB, Jason Lane -- my heart! -- hit a sharp single into right field, and the Astros won.

It was the greatest moment of my entire season, but I adore Cubs Fan, and you will be gratified to hear that I was able to keep my mouth shut.

Chicago 11, Houston 6

Until the next morning, that is.

There has been a lot of controversy about this game, about which more in a minute, but an interesting sidebar to this controversy has been the Chicago faithful's refusal to acknowledge that 20,000 braying Cubs fans in the Houston stands can really piss an Astros fan the fuck off. Saturday was pretty vicious, and Sunday was even worse, probably because every Astros fan in the place had made the same mistake that I did on Sunday morning, which was to openly gloat about the previous evening's victory.

"You know," I posited to Cubs Fan as we drove downtown, "last night's game really felt like a cosmic SHUT THE FUCK UP to all those Cubs fans in the stands." Cubs Fan harrumphed in return, and maybe I said a few other regrettable things after that, and the upshot of it was that, when Kerry Wood loaded the bases in the bottom of the third with the Astros already losing 5-1, then struck out Jeff Kent, Cubs Fan cheered loudly and enthusiastically, as if to give up even a single run more to my Astros was asking way too much.

I took the opportunity to go wash my hands and take a long walk around the concourse at that point, and when I returned to my seat after 10 minutes or so, somehow we managed to get through the rest of the game without coming to blows.

On the bright side: My first bench-clearing incident! And then the whole Kerry Wood v. Roy Oswalt saga, which suddenly seems like a metaphor for my entire relationship with Cubs Fan, especially the way in which they continually redefine the terms of their disagreement so that mutual understanding remains absolutely
impossible.

Is the problem that Kerry Wood gets away with shit that Roy Oswalt can't, despite the fact that he has equally impressive stuff? Oswalt says:

"There wasn't even a warning. Our guy (Lane) gets hit right after a home run on the next pitch and there's no warning to him. I throw and hit a guy too, and I don't get a warning. I get thrown out."

Is the problem that Kerry Wood wasn't even trying to hit a batter, and so his own ejection was made under false pretenses?

"Consider the circumstances, what inning we're in, and I'm two outs away from probably the easiest 'W' in my career. Obviously, I'm not trying to hit the guy. My ball was all over the place, all over the strike zone all day long.

"Barrett was set up away, my ball ran in, Kent was diving and it got him. (Umpire Hohn) told me he knew I didn't hit him on purpose but he had to throw me out of the game. I guess I don't understand that."

And then Oswalt gets all pissed off about that.

"He got three chances and I got one. Nobody should get three chances, and (the umpire) was even skeptical then (when he threw out Wood)."

And then Kerry Wood starts arguing intent again.

"I hit a guy (Beltran) in the foot with a slider, that really doesn't count to me, and hit a guy (Lane) in the jersey earlier."

Oswalt is mad because Wood didn't get punished for hitting batters when he was the one who started it first. Wood is mad because Oswalt executed a much more impressive plunking in one try than Wood did in three.

"When Oswalt hits you," I said loftily to Cubs Fan, "you stay hit." You can tell whose side I'm on.

...

What hurts most is that the Cubs just don't take my little team seriously.

Like I said, the stands were tense. My hecklers were screaming themselves hoarse arguing with some drunk Cubs jersey-wearing skank; they implored Sammy Sosa to think of the children who now believed, because of that bat-corking incident, that it was okay to be a big cheater. They taunted Cubs fans about their falling-down ballpark. But with the game hopelessly out of reach in the late innings, their true misery shone through.

WE HATE YOU CHICAGO CUBS! the loudest one of the group yelled. WE HATE YOU. SO. MUCH.

...

I no longer entertain wild card aspirations. I know that 2004 is a lost season, and 2005 isn't looking much better. But here is my vow: It will have all been worth it -- Pettitte's injury, Miller's injury, Bagwell's shoulder, Jeff Kent's largely indifferent play, the losses of Dotel and Hidalgo and Wagner -- all of it will have been worth it if somehow Houston can keep the Cubs from making it to the postseason, too. I adore Cubs Fan, but if I have to spend October watching her smile radiantly every time Corey Patterson hits a walkoff home run, I don't know what I'm going to do.

Roger Clemens is an asshole.

Story from today's Chronicle concerning the Red Sox trying to claim Clemens off waivers(!):

"I owe it to Andy (Pettitte) and the rest of the guys to continue on."

Speaking as one of the Astros' season ticket-holding patrons to whom Clemens apparently feels no such obligations (though I confess I would have bought tickets without the promise of Clemens, because unlike Roger Clemens, I actually like the Astros), I just want to say THANKS FOR NOTHING. ASSHOLE.

Houston 12, Philadelphia 10: The Triple Play I Did Not See

It's thanks to this gentleman's posts on Baseball Primer that I knew in advance to feel a little hopeful when Roberto Hernandez took the mound in the seventh inning. Sure enough, for the third time in three days, the Astros pull a win out of their asses. I don't actually think they're any better than the Phillies they just swept -- and how that must have hurt Billy Wagner! -- but the Houston bullpen is perhaps just a shade less craptacular.

...

And speaking of Billy Wagner, whom we will reportedly not be facing in Houston either because he is still on the DL, he had a nice little anecdote in the Houston papers the other day.

Walking near the Phillies' dugout with his two young boys, William and Jeremy, Wagner admitted his son Jeremy asks him why he doesn't pitch for the Astros anymore.

"I said, 'Because Daddy can't keep his mouth shut,' " he said.

...

T writes:

Orlando Palmeiro received two pinch-hit at-bats in the seventh frame and recorded two of three outs! He SUX!!!

Well said, T.

...

Two posts in a day? I could try to convince you that I am not in any way moved by this sudden little four-game winning streak, but I suspect you would not believe me.

This one is for all you masochists out there.

If you were the sort of moron who still believed that Houston had some kind of wild card hope (not noticing, perhaps, that the team is down to a single member of its Opening Day rotation with Clemens' calf injury last night), you would probably be heartened to note:

1. Houston (5th place) moved ahead of Philadelphia (6) with last night's come-from-behind-twice victory.
2. Florida (4) beat Los Angeles, and that just isn't right.
3. San Diego (3) lost to Atlanta, and by the way faces unbeatable St. Louis 6 times and not-too-shabby Los Angeles 7 times in the next month.
4. Chicago (2) beat Milwaukee, but not, you know, definitively or anything (7-5 in 11 innings).
5. San Francisco (1) went 1-1 with the Expos yesterday in a doubleheader. I was pleased to hear them losing against Montreal in the first match -- misery loves company! -- but then they turned around and trounced them in the second. I have nothing heartening to add about San Francisco's schedule, unfortunately.

By the way, if Brandon Backe is starting for the Astros against Chicago on Saturday night after just 22 innings as a reliever at the major-league level, I'm feeling good about my own chances for a September call-up. I think I'm going to go work on my eephus now.

Please, Houston Astros, put a stop to this miraculous two-game winning streak.

In a series against the Astros' doppelgangers of suck, the Philadelphia Phillies, I have suddenly found myself thinking wild card again. Today I wrote my colleague T. with the following analysis of the Astros' prospects:

1. Philly (fifth place) is just half a game ahead of Houston. Play as well as the Astros did last night, and you could knock them out permanently over the next week.
2. Florida (fourth place) is playing Los Angeles right now -- that'll be good for a few losses.
3. We still have series remaining against Chicago (third place) and San Francisco (first place), so technically speaking, our fate is in our own hands with them.
4. There is nothing we can do about San Diego.

All of this of course ignores the fact that the Astros suck, that Jeff Kent is about to be traded to Oakland, that Andy Pettitte is on the verge of season-ending surgery, and, most importantly, that the Astros suck.

I hate them for doing this to me.

I have a new favorite baseball writer.

I am not really sure of the division of labor within the Houston Chronicle sports desk, but I think less Jose de Jesus Ortiz and more Brian McTaggart is a good thing. Despite the misery of the games he is covering, I am really enjoying his work. Today's lede:

These are the kinds of losses that make you wonder if the baseball gods simply have it in for the Astros.

You also can't help but notice that where there used to be at least three articles about the Astros every day, these days it would really be cruel and unusual of the Chronicle editors to require more than one.

...

Like a fool, I didn't start listening to yesterday's 6-5 heartbreaker until the ninth inning. I had clicked over to Gameday at the top of the ninth, saw the Astros improbably score three runs to tie the game, and of course I was hooked. I mean, of course I was. Plus, it was the 47-66 Expos Houston was playing, wasn't it? So therefore I honestly believed that there was some chance for a miracle come-from-behind victory, though before the ninth inning, the Astros had mustered an anemic two hits against Montreal and there was no reason to believe there might be more coming.

Oh, still. I started listening, and when Morgan Ensberg homered in the top of the 12th inning, I was sure they could do it. I should have been warned when Viz then doubled with no outs and then got stranded at third, but as has already been made amply clear, I am a baseball idiot.

Of course, it was Alex Gonzalez who tied the game with his two-out solo home run off Chad Harville. Gonzalez, batting .229/.256/.412 for the season, has hit only SIX home runs all season. Three of them, however, have come in the last week, against the Astros.

Because in my crackpot version of the season, it is the Cubs' fault, rather than, say, Jeff Kent's or Jeff Bagwell's or David Weathers' or Dan Miceli's, that things have gone so badly, this is only to be expected. I haven't checked, but I sincerely hope that there are no former Cubs in the Phillies lineup.

...

Eric Neel of espn.com, who is still on my shit list, wrote this week:

After Carleen Basler's true feelings for me in the seventh grade, have I ever been more wrong about anything than I was about this year's Houston Astros?

I found this surprisingly conciliatory, but the column as a whole wasn't up to his usual high standards, so I am going to credit deadline pressure instead of true feeling for the fact that he was able to mention the Astros without pissing me off.

We are reaching a new low.

I have to confess that after these last two games against Montreal, I really don't want to have anything to do with this team at all. It's not disappointment any more; it's become something akin to revulsion. Which is actually kind of a relief, after all these weeks of despair and heartbreak.

...

Oswalt on his decision not to retaliate Friday night:

"None of them looked intentional," Oswalt said. "The guy that hit Adam, he was pretty much wild the whole night. He just seemed like he couldn't find the feel of the ball. He walked me on four pitches."

Houston 4, Montreal 0: The "Hit by Pitch" edition

Though Roy Oswalt threw a complete game shutout against Montreal tonight, it was a brutal night anyway, as Adam Everett took a fastball in the wrist while batting in the fourth. Looked like it hurt like hell, too -- he started to make his way down to first base, but then crumpled to the ground howling for about five minutes. Word is he'll be out at least four weeks.

Everett was actually only one of four Astros to get hit tonight, by three different Expos pitchers. Postgame radio was incensed that Oswalt hadn't retaliated, but there are very sensible reasons for not doing so, with the bullpen going eight innings in support of Darren Oliver last night and possibly going nine tomorrow if fragile Andy Pettitte isn't feeling 100 percent. Plus I am remembering a game from almost exactly two years back, where Kerry Wood broke Julio Lugo's arm but Oswalt ended up getting the five-game suspension, for retaliating. Oswalt deserves kudos for all aspects of his performance tonight (133 pitches, five hits, 8 Ks, one walk, though that complete game came courtesy of some surprisingly spectacular fielding by Viz and Berkman in the ninth), but I appreciate his cool head the most.

It is good to know the Astros can still beat the Expos.

...

Also, the Astros did retaliate, sort of. Immediately after Biggio got hit in the hands by Rocky Biddle in the bottom of the third, Lance Berkman came to the plate and immediately stung the ball right back at the mound, where it bounced against Biddle's leg so hard that it flew into foul territory. And that was the end of Biddle for the night.

And actually, I'm not that devastated about losing Everett. Viz is probably only half the fielder that Everett is, no matter how many nice plays he actually made tonight, but he's outslugging him .531 to .485. I say give me Viz.

Those unkind remarks I made about him are just a distant memory now.

...

My hecklers were at their most charming tonight. WHY DON'T YOU JUST FORFEIT, MONTREAL? they screamed as the Expos came to bat in the top of the third, AND TAKE JEFF KENT WITH YOU. (Jeff Kent is apparently on their shit list for a perceived lack of hustle; even when he got a two-RBI single in the seventh, they didn't stop complaining about him.) When TJ Tucker came out to pitch for Montreal for the last out of the seventh inning, they yelled: HEY TUCKER! WE KNOW WHAT YOUR NAME RHYMES WITH.

I'd offer to have 10 thousand of their heckler babies, except I don't think I could stand all the noise.