If Houston wouldn’t let a hurricane beat it, you think the New York Yankees stood a chance?
Poor Yankees … they weren’t beaten by 25 baseball players. They lost to an entire city picking itself up off the canvas. They lost to a tidal wave of emotion, an unstoppable force that would not be denied. They lost to fans who pulled out of their driveways, past all their possessions reduced to debris on their front lawns, and headed to Minute Maid Park to cheer their Astros.
This team doesn’t just wear a patch that says “HoustonStrong.” They ARE the embodiment of Houston, the most diverse, resilient, boldest city in the U.S. Nowhere will you find a team that looks more like its hometown.
Our second baseman is the smallest player in the lineup … and the best player in the world. How can you root against that guy?
Our first baseman is a Cuban defector with hair like the top of a pineapple.
Our centerfielder is bi-racial and climbs outfield walls to rob home runs.
Our shortstop is from Puerto Rico. He learned how to speak English as a kid because he knew ESPN would want to interview him one day.
Our right fielder is a self-described, mullet-wearing “down south redneck” in Captain America underpants. He comes to bat to a recording of wrestler Ric Flair yelling “Wooo!” Ever hear 40,000 baseball fans yelling “Wooo” in return?
Our third baseman is a Jew from New Mexico, of all places.
Our championship series MVP is the hottest pitcher in the game, the highest-paid player on the team and his fiancée is a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover girl. He’s doing all right.
Our manager has a degree in psychology from Stanford and needs it. Fearless leader is smart.
How can you not love this team? Lance McCullers was pretty awesome in Game 7, right? You know what he does in his spare time? He rescues homeless dogs and cats.
George Springer made a spectacular leaping catch, two of them, last week. You know what he did after Hurricane Harvey struck Houston? He arranged for his hometown in Connecticut to send a caravan of trucks packed with needed supplies to Houston. Springer also holds fundraisers to send kids who stutter to summer camp.
Astros owner Jim Crane donated $4 million for hurricane relief from his own pocket.
What’s the word … fate? Kismet? Destiny? Karma? Whatever you want to call it, this team will not, cannot be denied. The 2017 Houston Astros are a force of nature stronger than any hurricane. After all we’ve been through in Houston, we deserve the pure joy of Astros baseball.
There were doubters, for sure The Yankees were supposed to vanquish the Astros, ending the dream, especially after sweeping Houston three straight in New York. Aaron Judge had emerged from his home run slump. The Yanks needed only one win at Minute Maid Park.
The Yankees are used to winning. It’s sort of their thing. They’re the winningest, most storied franchise in U.S. sports. Their name means excellence, like Babe Ruth and Cadillac, the gold standard. When a team dominates in another sport, “they’re the New York Yankees of this or that.”
There are 27 World Series flags flapping over Yankee Stadium. Minute Maid Park has none. Surely the young, inexperienced Astros would crumble at the Yankees’ feet.
That’s just the way it is, or was supposed to be. Back in the ’50s, New York was so dominant that a book called The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant hit the best-seller list. The plot had a long-suffering baseball fan selling his soul to the devil so his team could beat the Yankees, if only once. The book was turned into a Broadway musical and movie called Damn Yankees.
It’s time for a remake, because 2017 belongs to Houston – our Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant.
The team motto this year was “Earn It,” and they sure did. But their work isn’t done. It’s on to Los Angeles and the World Series. Say it again … World Series!
