Sunday, October 23, 2005

Here you go Chicago...

A view from the other side, an Astros Buddy reminisces (with apologies and thanks to Erin Kline). This is copied from an email not originally intended for public display so excuse the e-nglish:

I am sitting at home with a sinus infection - and a tennis match looming for tomorrow at noon. I am trying to decide if I should go and practice right now - or eat, rest up a bit, and then practice. Either way the sinus infection is there - decisions - decisions - and I cannot really reschedule the match, which sucks.
The White Socks, The Cubs, The Astros - they are all jacked up on steroids that's what makes Baseball fun. Personally I am an Astros Fan - because I was an Astros Buddy as a kid. Every year my dad would sign us up to be Astros buddies. I even collected baseball cards, Nolan Ryan, Jose Cruz, Alan Ashby, and Phil Garner. I used to scream: JOSE CRUZ. I played T-ball, dad's pitch, baseball, and later softball, which I disliked. I even played on the softball team in high school - until I starting get sick during games. All things considered - my entry into the world of baseball wasn't graceful. I, too, was no fan of the dome - (in fact it pissed me off to be so close to Astroworld but so far away). I was bribed by my parents to attend my first Astros game - having stepped in cow shit at the rodeo, I quite hesitatant about the sports complex. My first game was probably in 1980. I would have been five or six. I remember walking into the mens room by mistake. As I recall the mens restroom I entered was brightly painted with metal urinals - I didn't know they were urinals at the time. I was trying to figure out what they were when my mother reached in and pulled me out. My Astros' buddy shirt was orange and white.
We were not allowed to drink soda's or eat junk food at home. So from 2-17 of course I wanted nothing more than a carbonated beverage and a bag of Fritos. My parents - on their more benevolent days - would in public and would allow us to drink a soda and eat junk food. So attending an Astros game pretty much guaranteed a soda, a hot dog, and sometimes a hot pretzel, OR better yet greasy ass Nachos. So I grew to love the games - because I loved the junk food. I liked watching the animated score board - I loved yelling: JOSE CRUZ.
But later things changed, I remember when my new Astros buddy shirt came in the mail and it was dark blue with rainbow sleeves. It was itchy. I missed the orange. I liked my orange hat better too. I remember whining when I had to wear the itchy shirt to the Astros game. I remember getting sick during that same visit and throwing up my foot long hot dog on the foot of the couple beside us. I remember my dad getting to a shouting match with the guy who I barfed on - and that was the last dome game I ever went too.
Later, Phil B took me to Enron Field on a date. I brought my glove(just as in the Astros buddies days). Except unlike during the Astros buddies days - this time I caught a ball. It was in my glove and I glanced back at Phil - seeking approval. I couldn't read him - there were all these little boys surrounding me. I was nervous - I didn't want my date to think that I would punk all those kids out of a a ball. SO I dropped the ball (surely that was more lady-like) - and the kids rushed in a grabbed it. My date was not impressed by my show of generosity, he was if anything disappointed. Apart from the ball screw -up it was a fun time. The beer was sold in plastic bottle - and it was $4.25 per bottle. Phil was wasted by the time we left. I remember thinking that he had spent way too much money on beer. At the time, I was making like $10.00 bucks an hour for $ 4.25 seemed like such an outrageous sum.
I am pulling for the Astros, because once an Astros buddy - always an Astros buddy. Say hi to Tricia

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