Where everybody knows your name (after you tell them)

I had a very *Cheers* evening last night when I went to Sign of the Whale on M street to watch the Astros/Braves game.

Wandering in at 4:30 (I was too anxious just watching it on Gamecast, so I cut out of work early), I picked a spot at the very end of the bar, right under a TV. I couldn't hear anything, as the music was blaring, but that was okay...I could see the game perfectly, which was what mattered.

The bartender at first seems kind of obnoxious. He was incredibly hard to understand, seemed a little annoyed at me for not understanding him, and had very busy hands when dealing with the waitresses. But when he realized I was there for the game, he turned down the music and turned up the TV for me, asked about my fandom and even treated me to a rousing of the old "Houston Oilers Number One" song, complete with the "Luv Ya Blue" line. He even ended up buying me a drink at the end of the night. His name is Pete.

Meanwhile, at about the third inning, down sits a guy right next to me who plunks down a Texans cap on the bar. I talked to him for a while, of course, and he was much more interested in his friends than the game, but I'm so used to watching and rooting for Houston by myself that it was great to have at least a little bit of company.

A good night all around...

Other thoughts on the game:

Just after the Braves went out in the bottom of the ninth inning, the TV cameras pointed at a kid in the stands who looked about six or seven and was wearing a Braves cap and who was just absolutely bawling. I don't know...maybe he was just crying because he couldn't get some more nachos, but I first saw him and knew how he felt. When you're a kid, it just seems like the most unfair, mean thing in the world that another team would dare to beat your team. You wonder how that could even happen, how that's even legal. I can't help but think of the bit in Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch where he told of the time when he was about ten and stormed out of the stadium after Arsenal lost a big game. Of course, I also can't help but think that most adults aren't really that far off. It puts things in perspective. I think that kid learned a vaulable lesson yesterday. I think we all did.

- & -

Deep down, I'm still very pessimistic (or at least wary) of Houston's ability to win a series or even the whole thing. But I also can't help but be stupidly hopeful and start planning out what matchups I would want for the World Series if (IF!) the Astros get in there, and I can say in all honesty that I would rather them not even get there than have to face the Red Sox or the Yankees. Being on the east coast, I wouldn't be able to escape the crowing if the Astros lost to either of those two or, even worse, the endless whining that would accompany the Astros beating either one of those two. At least the Yankees have won enough World Series that the loss would eventually blend in with the losses to the Diamondbacks or the Marlins, but it's a nightmare scenario to think of having to endure a litany of angry self-pity everytime the Astros are so much as mentioned in any context should they beat the Red Sox in the World Series.

Though, now that I think about it, there would be more than a little satisfaction to it as well.

But that's all wayyyyyyyy down the line. Astros up 1-0 on the Braves? Seen it before. And it didn't end well.