Unless you live under a rock, you know that the Houston Astros are playing in their first-ever World Series against the Chicago White Sox who hasn't been to a series since 1959. There is a lot riding on these 7 games for both teams as well as their fans in their perspective cities. It's been a thrilling series so far, but very disappointing for Houston fans for obvious reasons. Mainly because Houston is now down 2 games to none. Let me point out that there is still hope. The series moves to Houston tomorrow night.
During the course of this season, I've noticed a change in myself. Actually, the change started last season and it was because of this Astros ballclub. Let me explain...
About 28 years ago, in Malakoff, Texas, I decided I wanted to play baseball. I was 8. I signed up for Little League and got on a team. I wasn't very good. Most of the guys on the team had been playing for 3 or 4 years and were better than I was. But, I decided I really wanted to play the game. My coaches told me to do things that would help me play better and I did everything they said do. Early on I demonstrated that I could throw a baseball pretty well. I couldn't do much else. I was stuck in right field. Not much happens in right field. If it does, you have to be able to throw the ball. I could do that for sure.
From the time I started playing, I really wanted to be a pitcher. My coaches weren't ready to give me a shot because I was still pretty new to baseball. One of my coaches told me to set up a target somewhere where I could practice pitching. My dad set up a target for me against a side wall on the barn in our back yard. It was a worn-out, 14-inch tire - perfect for the beating it would take over the next 9 years.
The best thing about pitching is that it involves throwing a baseball. That's really good if you can throw it pretty well. That can also be the worst thing about it. You can throw a baseball too much. Baseball is very unforgiving. It doesn't make sense that a baseball can hurt someone's arm the way it does. People walk away from the game every year because of it. I did 15 years ago. My arm hurt, but my heart hurt worse. There's no way to explain how a goofy game like this can mean so much to a person. It just does.
I couldn't bear to watch too many games. It was a painful reminder of what I could do at one time. So, I stopped - that is until last year. I watched in amazement as they climbed the standings in the NL Central. They got hot in the second half and really didn't cool off until Scott Rolen hit the homerun off Roger Clemens in game 7 of the NLCS. Of course, the Astros' encore this year eclipses everything ever done by the organization. They were given up for dead in May and avenged the painful loss in the NLCS from a year ago. They roared back to St. Louis and made everyone forget about Albert Puhol's heroics from game 5 and avenged the painful loss a year ago. Now, people just like me are believing that this team - even more so than last year's squad - can do anything. I have no doubt, now down 2-0 to an opportunistic White Sox team, that these same boys of summer can erase the deficit and bring the World Championship to Houston and to Texas.
These guys are no longer just playing for themselves. They're carrying the hopes and dreams of much of the Lone Star State - including my own. Come on, Astros! Do it again! We Bee-lieve!
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