This week's He Said She Said is brought to you by the Houston Astros and the letter "D," which stands for disappointment. No other thing in He Said's life, other than a woman, has brought more sadness and dysfunction. But at least the Astros have never broken off an engagement with us or punched us in the mouth for looking at a bartender for too long.
Alas, the Astros begin another season in earnest this coming Monday evening against the San Francisco Giants. At this point, He Said and the Astros can be best described as "friends with benefits." He Said hits up the games with some buddies carrying full flasks of whiskey, and we end up drunkenly declaring our love for the team even as they are mired in a bad seven-run deficit. But then we don't care about them until we go to another game.
After some games, we unsoberly call up our tattoo artist to try to make an appointment to get an Astros tattoo, but our friends hold us back. They say, "That's like getting your wife's name on you for life." Wives leave you and cheat on you, but at least the Astros have stayed in the same place - the middle - since we were born, without fail.
The Astros can only bring gloominess and misery. But for a few short months each year they make us feel like eight-year olds again, running into that gray old behemoth off Fannin and to our orange seats, carrying our ball glove and a program. A lot of people in town have long since given up on the Astros and that makes us sad. We haven't given up, we just keep our distance so as to not get heartbroken.
Baseball still turns us into little boys, even as we push 30. We still daydream, as we have been doing for the past 20 years or so, about coming out of the bullpen in the ninth inning to the strains Metallica's "For Whom The Bell Tolls" to win the World Series for the 'Stros.
So this year we yet again cringe and take the leap with fingers crossed into another baseball season. Hopefully this year will better than the last, and the one before that, and before that and etc. This HSSS is for our favorite players Ken Caminiti, Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Xavier Hernandez and the incomparable moustaches of Kevin Bass and Doug Jones, the latter whom had one of the sweetest mullets in baseball history.