We managed to fly safely on Friday the 13th, debunking that myth for the time being, which really wasn't much of an accomplishment, when you think about it. The only way the myth could have been upheld was if every airplane aloft that day came plummeting down in a fireball, in which case I doubt the airline would let us get on board in the first place, seeing as how our flight was at 4 PM. They're not too bright, but even they would have caught on by then.
The day worked out OK for the Phils as well, who pounded the Reds 12-2 behind the increasingly impressive pitching of Brett Myers. Of course, I was stuck either in a plane or an airport all evening, so I missed it. The Reds took game 1 on Thursday while I was sitting in Minute Maid Park (more on that in a bit) watching the out-of-town scoreboard. Lieber uncharacteristically collapsed in that one. On Saturday, Ryan Madson retired only one batter in relief of Randy Wolf, blowing a 4-2 lead in epic fashion as the Reds scampered to a 12-4 decision. On Sunday, Vicente Padilla, finally done with Spring Training, won his first game by a 4-3 score, although Billy Wagner did his best to lose it for him.
On to my Minute Maid Experience. I traveled from the Kingwood area of Houston with my brother-in-law, my nephew, and my nephew's college friend down to the park, where we met my niece. My niece actually kept score of the game (she's 23, single, and very attractive, guys. Inquiries can be left in the comments section). I have to admit, I got caught up in the atmosphere of a Houston baseball crowd and sat down in my seat along the third base line after the first pitch. I couldn't help myself. At least I didn't get up, go get a beer, sit down, get up, go to the bathroom, sit down, get up, go get an ice cream, etc. like most of the other 29,000 fans. Jeez. It was like a damn conga line up and down the aisles. I must have missed about 30 pitches waiting for someone to get out of the way. After I finally did sit down, the Giants scratched out a run on an infield hit, an error by 3B Morgan Ensberg, a fielder's choice, and a sacrifice fly. Craig Biggio answered right back in the bottom of the first with a towering home run to left center, and Ensberg hit one in almost the exact same spot two batters later. So far, so good for the normally anemic 'Stros.
Andy Pettitte was not very sharp early though, and he quickly gave up the tying run on a Deivi Cruz double and a Mike Matheny single. Matheny was a real pest all night, which is pathetic considering he's not even as much of an offensive threat as Houston backstop Brad Ausmus, which is really saying something. The game stayed tied until the fifth, when Biggio hit a routine pop fly into the Crawford Boxes in left for his second round-tripper of the night. I mean, this thing had no chance in any other park, including Fenway. Moises Alou puts this ball in his back pocket in Wrigley, assuming Steve Bartman stays home. Oh well, c'est la stade.
The Astros paid for their good fortune in the top of the sixth. Pettitte loaded the bases on two walks and a single for Matheny, who hit a humpbacked liner into left that a hobbling Lance Berkman, just off the DL, made a late break on. Berkman not only couldn't reach the ball, but he bobbled it, allowing the go-ahead run to score as well. The Astros never scored again, blowing their best chance in the 8th when Phil Garner curiously sent both runners from first and second on a 3-2 pitch with one out and Jose Vizcaino up. Viz either missed the sign or had a brain cramp, as he took a called third strike. Matheny, with the left-handed hitting Vizcaino up and a clear view of third base, nailed Jason Lane, a slow runner, by five feet at third to complete the double play. It was the kind of aggressive base-running play Garner was brought in to execute, but he picked the exact wrong time to try it. Vizcaino has to at least swing at that pitch, though. That was the most inexcusable part of the whole endeavor. To their credit, the Astros fans actually booed, although I'm not entirely sure they knew who they were booing at.
The Giants tacked on a couple of more runs in the 9th on a Tal's Hill double by Ray Durham, an Omar Vizquel single, a sac bunt, and yet another Ensberg error. Someone named Tyler Walker closed it out 1-2-3 in the bottom of the 9th for San Francisco, and it was back on the 59 Highway for us. Getting back on the freeway wasn't hard, since most of the rest of the "fans" had left after the 8th inning botched double steal.
Minute Maid is as clean and beautiful as I remember it. After years of enduring the Astrodome, it's the one aspect of moving north I really regret. I'm not sure when it started, but after the traditional "Take Me Out To The Ball Game" during the seventh inning stretch, the PA plays "Deep In The Heart Of Texas", complete with lyrics on the Jumbotron, and the fans eat it up. It's pretty damn cool, I must say, at least for someone who lived in Houston for six years and whose wife grew up there. "The sage in bloom, smells like perfume, CLAP-CLAP-CLAP-CLAP Deep in the Heart of Teh-ex-as!" The Phillies aren't ever going to come up with anything to compare, I'm afraid.
I was disappointed that they didn't close the roof, which is an engineering feat to behold. They usually start slowly and silently bringing it forward in about the 6th inning, and the other two times I was there, it took me until about the 7th to notice. After that, I ignored it for awhile and went back to watching the game. Then, suddenly, it's closed, and what was a lovely skyline view a few innings earlier is a bunch of glass panels. It's kind of jarring, like, when did I go indoors? Still, I would have liked to have seen it again, just to satisfy the geek in me.
Off day today. We're 7 games back of the Braves, 5.5 out of the wild-card. "The S-L-G, stinks might-i-ly BOO-BOO-BOO-BOO! Deep in the Heart of Phil-ly"