Last night and this morning, the interweb was abuzz with my Houston Astros failing to sign their top draft choice, California high schooler Brady Aiken, and in the process, missing out on signing two other highly touted prospects.
It’s a complicated matter, bogged down in the complex rules of the Collective Bargaining Agreement that I won’t get into here.
The real story has little to do with Aiken, Astros General Manager Jeff Luhnow, agent/villain Casey Close, or any of the myriad bit players. No matter which side they’re on, the Internet twits who spew vitriol are missing the point.
You see, all the principle players are just acting out their preordained roles in the ever-evolving tragicomedy that is the Houston Astros. There’s nothing new here; this play been a hit on Broadway for more than half a century, with no signs of closing.
For newer fans and even non-fans who recently walked in and took your seats, you’re just watching Act 52 in this desultory drama, and it’s the epitome of what it means to be an Astros fan. I’ve been sitting here in the balcony for so long that my ass is numb. Get used to it, because no matter who will be starring in Act 53, the plot will be the same.
Like any long-running drama, this play has had its moments, including these top-rated scenes:
- Hall-of-Famer Joe Morgan traded for Lee May and Tommy Helms.
- Pitcher J.R. Richard felled like a mighty cypress in a Louisiana swamp.
- Hall-of-Famer Nolan Ryan run out of town by carpetbagger John McMullen.
- Shortstop Dickie Thon ruined by a Mike Torrez beanball.
- The heartbreak of Act 18, Scene 1980
- The bitterness of Act 22, Scene 1986
- Carlos Beltran
- Derek Jeter or Phil Nevin? Hmmm, I think we’ll draft Nevin.
- The letdown of Act 41, Scene 2005
- Craig Biggio disrespected by the Hall of Fame.
- Phenom prospect Carlos Correa hurt.
- Mark Appel, #1 draft pick in 2013, sucks.
- Brady Aiken
Old-school front office or new guys with slide rules, it really doesn’t make any difference because the results are always going to be the same. What matters is whether or not you’re going to stay in your seat for more.
Me, I’m no different than any effing Cubs fan you want to name. My lot is to suffer, and I’m staying.
Yes, even though I already have a really good idea of how the next act is going to play (and really, how could I NOT at least have an inkling), I’ll be right here in my seat, not just because I’m an Astros fan, but because I’ve already been sitting here so long that I don’t think I could stand up to leave, even if I wanted to.