Saturday, October 22, 2005


I have a picture at my house of me standing in the parking lot of Colt .45 Stadium in Houston TX with my brother before attending a game and in the background you can see the Astrodome being built. I was so young I have no memory of that day, but it at least gives photographic evidence that I was there at the beginning.

As a child I became an Astros fan. There wasn't much to cheer for really except that they were the home team, and aren't we supposed to cheer for our home team? As I had relatives who lived in Houston every year we traveled to Houston and attended games several times a year. I was an Astro Buddy (complete with T-Shirt and newsletter). I attended a coaches clinic where I went on the playing field of the astrodome and received tips from the players. I sat next to my Mom on summer evenings in a lawn chair in the driveway as we listened to the games on the radio (there wasn't 100 TV channels back then) every year always hoping that they would get better that they would get to the playoffs.

In 1980, my boss being an Astros fan, I brought a TV to work and we watched to our disappointment as our beloved Stro's lost to the Phillies.

In 1986 I was in flight school. I snuck downstairs to the day room after lights out and turned to the TV to ESPN to find out the scores of the series with the Mets. Once again disappointment.

Then there were all the losses to the Braves. Last year the fantastic comeback in the League Championship Series only to loose two in St. Louis and see the red birds go to the series.

At the beginning of this year my team was a mess. The big bats in last years line-up had left for big bucks and greener pastures. Jeff Bagwell in the twilight of his career had a bad shoulder that would eventually force him to leave the line-up and have surgery. The team was at one point 15 games under .500. And now here they are in the World Series.

In the grand scheme of things this really means nothing. It's a bunch of professional athletes who play a kids game for big money. We are at war and I have friends in the middle of it. I will be going back to war soon, more than likely next year. So you see baseball shouldn't really matter all that much. So why was I sitting there in the bottom of the ninth Wednesday with my palms sweating? I never had that happen even while flying missions over Sadir City...It shouldn't mean that much to me. I tried to forget about them, it ridiculous to feel this way about a game but here I am an Astros fan, with my team in the World Series. If they can close the deal this next week the 40 years of pain and suffering will almost be worth it...THANKS GUYS and GO 'STROS!



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