When you leave this coast, take me with you

Before I get into my usual sentimental remarks about Opening Day, I would be remiss if I didn't share this quote from Lance Berkman in today's Chronicle:

"I'd pick us third, too ... I see it that way, too, on paper — if that's all you have to go on. On paper last year, the Cardinals were third, and they won 105 games. Don't be surprised if we're right there at the end."

This is exactly how I want my team to approach this season -- fully aware of their shortcomings but foolishly optimistic in spite of them. If you can't feel that good on Opening Day, before there is a single game on the record books, then when can you?

...

I'm a little cranky that my Opening Day comes later than so many other teams'. Of course, I listened to the Yankees/Red Sox game on Sunday night, and took grim pleasure in Boston getting their asses handed to them, even though under any other circumstance, I would probably take gleeful pleasure in hearing the Yankees get the same. Yesterday, it was all NL Central. I caught most of Brewers at Pirates, and then all 17 hours of Cubs at Diamondbacks. A few observations:

* There is something touching and a little poignant about listening to the Pirates radio flagship, with all its ads targeted toward hardcore Pirates fans. In particular, there was one ad for PNC Bank, in which purported fans talked about the good karma that would ensue from their buying Pirates tickets using a Pirates-themed debit card. All of a sudden, I realized that there are plenty of people in the world who might actually want a Pirates-themed debit card, and I felt sorry for every last one of them, even though a resurgent Milwaukee is key to my office pool victory.

* Cubs Fan has influenced me to the point that I now cheer for Corey Patterson ("He's batting 1.000!" I emailed her, after his first at-bat).

* "This is the most dangerous time for a baseball player," the Cubs' Ron Santo kept saying, even though his team had a five-run lead over the Diamondbacks. Apparently, when you get up by that many runs, you get sloppy and careless and it's more likely than not that the other team will take advantage and stage a comeback. By the time the score was 12-3, even Santo was forced to acknowledge that probably Chicago was going to pull out a victory, and he went on to talking about more important concerns, like blood sugar testing and his dog.

* If every Diamondbacks game goes like yesterday's, their season must feel like it's 500 games long.

...

And now for the sentimental part. Opening Day makes us all sentimental. This year will be worse for me than usual, because as it happens, I am leaving Houston on Thursday morning to take a job in what I like to call an Undisclosed Midwestern Location. So tonight's game against the St. Louis Cardinals will be the last I attend for a while. I am sure there are other Astros games in my future, but this will be the last time I can just hop in my car and watch my little darlings play in person. 

David Brooks published a column in the New York Times last week in which he contemplated becoming a Washington Nationals fan – his new local team – after a long history of rooting for the New York Mets. He theorized that fan loyalties have their source in one of three attitudes: love of the team as symbol of the community the fan shares, love of the team as psychological bond forged through mutual suffering, and love of the team because of what it symbolizes (Red Sox = suffering, Cubs = haplessness, though Cubs Fan says that what the Cubs represent is joyful toil).

Even after four years of close observation, I don’t think I could tell you what the Astros’ own personal creed is – possibly “Name-brand players sell more tickets.” Nor am I especially eager to become a part of the Houston community through our shared love of all things Astro. But that third option – loyalty through shared experience – doesn’t really sum it up.

I became an Astros fan by choice. I moved to Houston in 2000, more a casual fan of the New York Yankees than anything else, and when the 2001 season opened, I chose the Astros. I learned their names, their strengths and weaknesses, I listened to game after game after game on the radio and spent the first hour of every workday talking to my coworkers about what had happened the night before. I fell hopelessly in love with Roy Oswalt the week before his first appearance as a starter, when he told the Houston Chronicle that he was trying to get his parents and wife to ditch his own brother’s wedding, scheduled the same day, and come to the game instead. I learned for myself the true agony of rolling over and dying in the first round of the playoffs. I learned to look forward impatiently to next year.

 
After occupying  this space for a year, I still have no idea what value, if any, I contribute. There is no reasoned analysis of game strategy, no inside information you can’t find elsewhere. I used to think my job was to serve as an eyewitness, since I attended so many games, to report what I saw down on the field. I won’t be doing that any more.

I plan to keep writing here, though. With Rafe largely silent these days, the world needs another exiled Astros fan. I’m also curious what will happen after I leave – will I follow the Astros from afar? Or will I fall in love with one of the teams near the small Midwestern city where I’m moving?

At my going-away party last weekend, my friend J. cornered me and told me that he hoped the Astros would still be my team after I moved. And that if they weren’t, he hoped that I wouldn't cheer for the Cubs or Cardinals, at least. Or, if I had to cheer for one of them, make it the Cubs. (I suspect this is because he regards St. Louis as more of a legitimate threat.)

Here is my promise to all of you: It won't be the Cardinals. Or the Mets.

...

Stay tuned for the report from Minute Maid Park. I was disappointed to find out that the Astros will be facing Chris Carpenter and not Mark Mulder, as if the Cardinals don't feel they need to waste their best pitcher on the lowly Astros. You watch out, Cardinals; the most dangerous time in a ballgame is when you are up by five runs.

Comments

[SC]

I had sort of a similar Pirates experience yesterday, but it was in the form of TV commercials on the Extra Innings package, with Jason Bay and Jack Wilson being promoted like superstars. It shook me to my core, and I realized that the world probably isn't fair. Some people are giddy about Jack Wilson.

Also, I think Carpenter is STL's best pitcher. But I might be stupid, so when Carpenter stinks and Mulder is great, that's my excuse.

[rbs]

Hirsch, Hang in there.

David Brooks is a twit.

I moved from Houston to New York City 12 years ago, and I'm still an Astros fan. Yes, I root for the Yankees now, but they're in other league so it doesn't matter. (Last years playoffs just hurt twice as much.) And yes, I rooted for the Astros when they played the Yanks in interleague 2 years ago.

I use to worry that come the day Bags and Biggio retire I'd give up on 'em because there'd no longer be anyone I remembered on the team, but if you can catch the team at a real game now and again, you find new players to connect too. Right now, that's Oswalt for me. I saw him clock the Mets a couple years ago and it was a thing of joy and beauty.

Have fin at the game tonight.

[The Bench Jockey]

Throws,

Best of luck in your move. As to what value you have in the Baseball Blogosphere, look at it this way; Not everyone can write about Standard Deviants and Meanies and other Statistical Gobbledeygook. The flip side of that is that not everyone can write with wit and passion about their favorite team. As not every fan is a Stat Obsessed Wonk, it also goes without saying that not every fan views things the way you do. The Bench Jockey considers you to be required reading, simply because he likes your style. Keep it up...

[Ellen]

Good luck with the move, Hirsch, and with the new job. May you thrive and prosper, and have more fun with it than anyone should for paid work. As for what you contribute with your blog, just remember that baseball is many things. Certainly, it's a vast forest planted thick with statistics, fun to navigate through with the aid of Sabrmetrics, pythagoreans, and the like. But it's also a huge industry, a showcase of physics, and a microcosm of American history. And it's also art, and art, like any beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. There's no measuring the value of articulate, intelligent, and downright entertaining beholders such as you. Once you get settled, for goodness' sake keep writing, whether it's about the Astros or the Midwest League or the kids on your block playing pick-up games in the street. We'll be reading.

[gfoxcook]

Well, I enjoyed reading your musings, worries, and joy last season, so I think that's enough to base a baseball blog upon... Whether or not the writer of such a blog is seeing more Astros games in person than I am or not doesn't matter a damned bit to me, personally... nor does whether they spout way too many stats or not... nor does their location (though "Undisclosed Midwestern Location" sounds a bit suspicious to me... are we talking either Chicago or St. Louis here? Heh).

So anyway, keep on talking about the Astros, as long as they're playing and you're following them. I'll keep on enjoying reading your entries about them. What more is there to online communication, eh?

[Tom S.]

I found your blog by accident, but became an instant fan. A dense fan, but a fan nonetheless (you see, it was months before I figured out why you called it "throws like a girl." Even though I'm married to a wonderful woman who is a die-hard Cubs fan, I fell into the stupid baseball-blogs-are-written-by-guys thing. Color me stupid).

It's the writing. The humor. The writing. The passion. The writing. (Did I mention the writing?) That's why it's a great blog, and that's why it's going to remain one, even from the Undisclosed Midwestern Location.

I've been an expatriate Astros fan for nearly 20 years. I worked for them in the Box Office through high school and part of college, but decided I needed to get the hell out of Texas. It's been OK. I've lived near Atlanta, in Philadelphia, and now in Cincinnati, but really rooting for another team never seems to be in the cards. Now that I've married into the Cubs I follow them more than I ever did before, but when the Astros and Cubs play we watch in separate rooms. One time we were visiting my mother in Houston when the Cubs were in town. Even scored Crawford Box seats. It was no fun -- divided loyalties and all that. We both enjoy cheering against the Reds (except Shaun Casey, because he's a class act. And Wiley Mo Pena because his name is Wiley Mo Pena).

Anyway, the Undisclosed Midwestern Location doesn't seem to have a MLB club, which means it likely has a minor league club. I *highly* recommend it for soaking in The Game live. Reds fans are so insufferable we've given up going to GABP when the Astros or Cubs are in town, but we're an hour away from Lexington (the Astros Sally League affiliate) and a bit more from Louisville and Indy. If we lived on the north side of town we could get to Dayton to see the Dragons, but we live on the south side so we have the non-affiliated Frontier League Florence Freedom to watch. Every play an adventure.

So best of luck on the move. I look forward to reading about your further adventures and insights into the Astros and baseball. And if the UML is anywhere close to Cincinnati, consider this an invitation to join us at any of the myriad places there are to catch a ball game.