12 years ago, my team made the NLCS. That was the second straight year they did it. 12 years later, they finally got back. To be more accurate, this time it is the ALCS, a sign of the red-headed stepchild nature my team inhabited for much of that interim time - ultimately used as a trade-chip to get 15 teams in each league. Much of my life has changed in those interim 12 years - from 9th Grade to my fifth year of working. From watching tv live on a standard definition small-screen in my basement to following the game on Gameday and Twitter while taking work calls. But as my team heads for its first chance at a World Series in a dozen years, a lot of this feels familiar.
It felt most acute these last two games in Boston. The first two in Houston went about as good as I could've asked. The Astros were never truly threatened, taking early leads in both games. It was a celebration, if anything, of what the team had become. It was Jose Altuve hitting three home runs, Alex Bregman hitting another, and Justin Verlander having a nice start all the while massacring Chris Sale. Game 2 was more of the same, but with my boy Carlos Correa starting the game off with a monster home run, one with an exit velocity of 109.8 MPH (a statement that would have been entirely foreign to a 2005 baseball fan). The games in Boston were different
I watched Game 3. I watched my boy hit another home run, if anything this one was more amazing, with him launching a home run to dead center withoiut even making great contact. But then I watched it all go wrong. The Red Sox offense, dormant all season, wake up with hit after hit after hit. A managing fiasco where 'lefty specialist' Francisco Liriano promptly giving up a home run to left-handed Rafael Devers. I watched and watched them get hammered 10-3. And then I got afraid - the official feeling of a baseball fan in October.
It started almost as the Red Sox were making their comeback. It was all bad news. The Red Sox bats were waking up. They would get Game 4 at home with 'the momentum'. They would get their ace on the mound in Game 5 in Chris Sale (in the end, no, since he pitched in relief in Game 4). What are the chances he would have two terrible starts in a row? The Red Sox, after all, are a Boston team, and teams from that city, particularly one pigskin-related outfit, have made a habit of ruining my life.
The biggest difference in 12 years is not these feelings. I was, of course, equally scared in 2005 when my team had to play St. Louis in the NLCS, and when they blew Game 5 to the Home Run Heard Around Houston by Albert Pujols. The biggest difference is what happened next. 12 years ago, I was there sitting alone in basement running through rounds of fingernails as the Astros won Game 6. 12 years later, I was either flying to San Francisco, in a car, or on a call, when my team battled Boston and took Game 4. The game, from all accounts, was a wild one. The Astros led early, the Red Sox tied, the Astros took a 2-1 lead, the Red Sox took it back against Justin Verlander, with Andrew Benintendi hitting a home run. The Astros then took the lead back with Alex Bregman hitting a home run off of Craig Kimbrel, a usually unhittable closer. The Red Sox nearly came back in the 9th with Rafael Devers hitting an inside-the-park home run. All this happened. I didn't see it.
In a way, not sure if I would have wanted to watch it. Over the years, my patience for these 'thrill of the game' moments has been battered out of me - mostly in games relating to Peyton Manning and/or the Patriots. Not in baseball as much mainly because my team hasn't been close (for reasons I can't remember - probably work again - I didn't watch the Astros collapse in Game 4 of the 2015 ALDS), but I get too nervous, too invested, too down, too agitated. This ended up working much better.
Now that they are there, I can begin to dream. I can imagine Game 1 on Friday, either in Cleveland setting up a matchup between historically good starting pitching (Cleveland) vs, historically good offense (Houston), or one in Houston against the Yankees. I can begin to remember what being part of an NLCS is like. The Conference/League finals just feel different, like a Semifinals in tennis or a World Cup. I feel there is a huge difference between being one of the last 8 vs. last 4. And this time the last 4 is a great opportunity.
It's been an incredibly taxing 12 years as an Astros fan. First came true disappointment, with a team from 2006-2010 that wouldn't accept its fate as a franchise in disarray, clinging to hope way longer than needed. Then came embarassment, as the Astros did in the MLB what the 76ers would do in the NBA, having the worst three year stretch maybe ever. But I was there in 2014, when the team 'surprised' in going 70-92, and Sports Illustrated ran a cover saying 'The Astros: the 2017 World Series Champions.' And I was there in 2015, when the team started hot, called up a future superstar in Carlos Correa, and then struggled late but held onto a Wild Card. I was there for that, for the relative disappointment of 2016, and for their success this year.
It's been a tiring 12 years at times. but the next 12 feels so much brighter. The core of the team is still young. Carlos Correa just turned 23, and if he didn't get hurt he might have stolen the MVP from Jose Altuve, who himself is just 27. George Springer is 26. Alex Bregman is 23 and had a great second year. The pitching staff needs help, but they have money to spend and seemingly a future ace in Forrest Whitley in AA. The teams future is bright as anything, but forget the future, there is still life in 2017.
To turn to a weird comparison for a minute, this series win, against a Boston team (for good measure), reminds me of what Tyrion Lannister told Daenarys Targaryen late in Season 6, 'You're in the Great Game now.' This is real, the trip to the ALCS, the matchup against either the best team in the AL (Cleveland) or the best franchise (Yankees). The bright lights, primetime games (something, hilariously, they did not have in the entirety of the ALDS). The real season starts now. I want to tell myself that this season doesn't matter. They have many great years left, but its right here for the taking, just as it was 12 years ago.
