Astro Turf

I called my parents this weekend to chat my Dad up about the Astros being in the World Series. I grew up right outside of Houston, and my father has been a die-hard Astros fan for nearly 45 years. It was so nice to hear him talk so enthusiastically about "his" team. As we were chatting, I realized that I had many fond memories of the Astros with my Dad, and their former home, the Astrodome.

I remember watching the once high-tech fireworks shoot across the large Jumbo-Tron monitor and yelling "CHARGE" after the animated character "Chester Charge" magically scurried across the screen.


I remember watching fans put up large "K" signs as Nolan Ryan smoked 100+mph fastballs past the hitters. I remember getting my picture taken with one of the team members whose name I can't recall. I remember peanut shells all over the floor, and hotdogs. I remember the time the fancy hubcaps on our Mercury Marquis were stolen from the parking lot. I remember spending almost the whole game with the binoculars pressed to my eyes taking in practically everything that moved on and off the field.

I don't remember (according to my parents) somehow jamming a large smiley-face pin up my nose and being taken to the Astrodome emergency room while six or seven nurses held me down for the extraction. Nor do I remember sitting through (according to my Dad) one of the longest games in baseball history (something like 26 innings). I also don't remember the last game I went to, or when I became to old or too cool to stop attending them with my Dad. I also don't remember my Mom ever being there, although I know she was.

At the too-young age of 63, my father is very ill with Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. He's known about it for nearly eight years (average life expentancy is five years, post diagnosis). His health is a veritable rollercoaster of hospital visits, daily medications and the constant stress of staring mortality in the face. But these days, the stress is a little less thanks to the Astros' success. I have to believe that he fully appreciates the metaphor this presents--that his boys of summer are playing for him now. Hoping like hell he can extend his season a little longer and go out on top. I sure hope they do...

Thanks for the memories, Dad. And to the Astros: "CHAAAARRRGGGGEEEE!!"