A story about Astros Baseball, my Dad and Myself
Hey everyone, I’d like to tell a story about Astros baseball, my dad and myself:
I can’t remember a time not following the Houston Astros, Rockets, Oilers and now Texans. My love of sports began very early. My dad took me to my first Astros game September 26, 1981, in the Houston Astrodome. I was 3 and 1/2 months old. Nolan Ryan, one of the greatest pitchers of all time, was on the mound that day, facing none other than the Los Angeles Dodgers. He threw his fifth no-hitter, breaking Sandy Koufax’s all-time record. Both Nolan and Sandy were actually shown in the stands during this World Series.
In October 2005, when the Astros made it to their first World Series, my dad took Dean and myself to game 4 on a whim to see if we could find some last minute tickets. The game was sold out but my dad found two standing-room-only tickets. He sacrificed his chance at going to a game for us. The Astros ended up losing that game and actually didn’t win a single game during that World Series. It was a very close Series though as the Astros were only outscored by a total of 6 runs over those 4 games.
On August 1, 2010, my dad again got tickets for an Astros game for just me and Dean. We were in the Crawford Boxes right behind the short left-field fence at Minute Maid. In the seventh inning with the Astros down 2–0, the veteran, Jason Michaels, came up to bat with the bases loaded. I had never been close to touching a major league baseball. Sure, there were a few foul balls that were hit relatively close in my direction before but nothing too close. And then, there it was. This rocket lined directly at me. It was if the ball was shot out of a cannon on the straightest line that you could imagine. I opened my hands to catch it. I didn’t even have to move an inch. But right when I thought it was going to make contact, I felt nothing. Someone must have deflected it. Lots of people were scrambling on the ground. And there it was again, just slowly rolling underneath me. I grabbed it. I had a grand slam ball in my possession. There are only about 150 grand slams hit each year in major league baseball. I had the rarest gem ever to be hit.
The Astros endured some brutally bad years since their 2005 World Series appearance. In 2011, the Astros changed ownership to a man named Jim Crane. I think many were pretty happy to see Drayton McClane go. I was. In 2007, I went to an event at Rice University featuring Lex Alexander (the rockets owner) and Drayton McClane. At the end, they took questions from the crowd. Drayton McClane was asked about what he thought of using statistical analysis to improve his team’s chances. He completely dismissed it out of hand saying something along the lines of “lies, damn lies, and statistics…”. It was earlier that year, that I read one of the best books on using statistical analysis for baseball called “Baseball Between the Numbers” by the writers at Baseball Prospectus. They made a clear case that even rudimentary analytics can give teams an edge.
Jim Crane fully embraced statistical analysis. And in June 2014, Sports Illustrated ran a cover story predicting that the Houston Astros would win the World Series in 2017. My dad brought me the article to read. It was probably the only Sports Illustrated article I have read in the last 10 years. The article details the genius behind the analytic backoffice hires the Astros made. Even casual baseball fans must notice the obvious defensive shifts that occur. We have second basemen playing in shallow right field and short-stops playing where second basemen typically play. This is due to the huge amount of data collected on every at-bat.
The city of Houston had only 2 championships in approximately 150 seasons of the three major professional sports before the Astors World Series victory last night. Houston isn’t actually the worst city for championship droughts — Atlanta has a single championship in 170 seasons, so let’s consider ourselves very lucky and cherish this one as they are extremely rare.
Shortly after I could walk, my dad started me in tee ball when I was four years old. I would look at where the Astros ranked in the standings in the morning paper before heading to school. When I was a bit older, I would watch endless reruns of the 30-minute Sports Centers on ESPN until I had memorized the entire show.
My dad spent his teenage years in the Bronx, watching and loving the Yankees. When he came to Houston a couple years before I was born, he began rooting for the home team. He never pushed his Yankees on us, and, in fact, I have only ever rooted for the Astros. I asked him once who he would root for if the Astros and Yankees ever met in the World Series — and he thought for a bit before picking his childhood Yankees. I tried to convince him that they had won more than their fair share of championships but to no avail. Once you are locked into a team at a young age, its hard to let go.
When the Astros switched leagues to the American League a few years back, this meant that they would never have the chance to play together in the World Series. A couple weeks ago, when the Astros were playing the Yankees in the American League Championship Series, I hopped on a plane to NYC to watch them at the new Yankee stadium. It was the first and only time I saw them all year. It was a tough game for them and they lost 5–0 but I was very happy to see them against my dad’s favorite team in the playoffs.
The World Series was a huge emotional rollercoaster for me. The Astros finally won a World Series and my dad wasn’t here to experience it with me. Game 5 was an unbelievably epic five-hour adventure that I’ll never forget. I yelled so much (sorry Eleni) and cried like a little child when the game was over. I remember my dad telling me nighttime stories of the 1986 Astros extra-inning loss in game 6 of the National League Championship Series to the Mets. The Astros finally have a miracle story of their own that I’ll be able to pass on to my kids.
