2023 Houston Astros Thread

[rvm96 1,643]

9 hours ago, Make em eat Taco Bell said:

Pay the starters through 7 if they are doing well, pitch count to 125 max. 

We've lost two of our top 5 pitchers to injuries and this is the solution?

[Wulaw Horn 19,152]

1 hour ago, Ichabod said:

There are 6 MLB players that have 0 HR’s (qualified AB’s) 

 

 

 

 

 

Two are in our starting lineup everyday

Yeah but one of them plays 1B and has most AB’s at cleanup. That should hardly count. 

[Wulaw Horn 19,152]

We talk about present (what was most important this week, past (Billy D, Oswalt and Bagwell) and future (farm system and Drew Gilbert. 
 

spotify:

Amazon:

https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/852d9661-0b82-43da-8ae9-955d001c400b/episodes/a4ccfd8c-de21-40cc-914c-2921e1caa38e/breathing-orange-fire-a-houston-astros-podcast-episode-5-present-past-and-future?ref=dm_sh_HrORv3vhOED05PASfSmmXz75e
 

Apple:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/breathing-orange-fire-a-houston-astros-podcast/id1683955456?i=1000613618382

not only are we dominating Pakistan but we are now in Luxembourg!  

Edited May 19, 2023 by Wulaw Horn

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

 

[runthebone 8,046]

10 hours ago, Wulaw Horn said:

We talk about present (what was most important this week, past (Billy D, Oswalt and Bagwell) and future (farm system and Drew Gilbert. 
 

spotify:

Amazon:

https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/852d9661-0b82-43da-8ae9-955d001c400b/episodes/a4ccfd8c-de21-40cc-914c-2921e1caa38e/breathing-orange-fire-a-houston-astros-podcast-episode-5-present-past-and-future?ref=dm_sh_HrORv3vhOED05PASfSmmXz75e
 

Apple:

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/breathing-orange-fire-a-houston-astros-podcast/id1683955456?i=1000613618382

not only are we dominating Pakistan but we are now in Luxembourg!  

You've got your foot in the door, now you can get all of the Low Countries.

[Gut Wagon 8,087]

10 hours ago, Wulaw Horn said:

not only are we dominating Pakistan but we are now in Luxembourg!  

All your first, second and third base are belong to us! 

[runthebone 8,046]

Did anyone post the Lima article?  If so, I missed it:

https://theathletic.com/4437514/2023/05/16/remembering-jose-lima-time/

RIP, Lima Time

Spoiler

The enduring joy of Jose Lima, one of baseball’s most unforgettable characters

Rustin Dodd, Jayson Jenks

A quick Jose Lima story: It’s winter ball in Mexico, and Lima has just surrendered more than a mere home run. He has given up a bomb.

Mendy Lopez watches Lima, his old friend, from the opposing dugout. Lima looks furious on the mound. He is years removed from his 20-win, All-Star season with the Astros and no longer in the big leagues. He trails the hitter around the bases like a mad man, yelling all the way to home plate.

“Holy s—,” Lopez thinks, “they’re gonna fight.”

When the bomb-masher steps into the dugout, Lopez rushes over: “What was Lima saying to you? Why didn’t you fight? Lima was aggressive!”

The guy shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “He was just saying that that was a great bomb!”

That was Lima Time.

Another quick Lima story: It’s the late 1990s, and Scott Ward is sitting in the front row at an Astros spring training game in Florida when his friend Bruce from Baltimore calls.

Bruce asks Ward what he is doing, so Ward, a random fan from Florida, says he’s about to watch Jose Lima hit. Lima is at the peak of his career: a regular on the Jim Rome Show, a fan favorite, the subject of a Sports Illustrated feature. When Lima hears his name, his head snaps. He is only a few feet from Ward in the on-deck circle.

“Who are you talking to?” Lima asks.

“Just a friend of mine from Baltimore,” Ward says.

“I want you to tell him that my fastball is jumpin’ today, man,” Lima says.

“Bruce, Jose Lima wants me to tell you that his fastball is jumping today,” Ward says.

“Bulls—,” Bruce says.

Ward passes along Bruce’s message. Lima tells Ward to put the phone up to the net. “I want to tell you my fastball is smokin’ today like nobody ever saw,” Lima crows to Bruce from Baltimore, to the delight of Ward and everyone around him. “They can’t see it, they can’t hit it.”

That was Lima Time, too.

More essence than brand, more worldview than gimmick, Lima Time was singing merengue before games and signing autographs long after them. It was languid days on the golf course and hot nights at the club. It was comebacks and miracles and a million changeups — all shorthand for one of the most improbably unforgettable careers in baseball history.

“It wasn’t an act,” says John Buck, one of Lima’s former catchers. “It was full-blown passion.”

Lima sang a song called El Mambo de Lima and line-danced to Randy Travis. He fired an imaginary gun at hitters after strikeouts and shouted at the Mini Jose Lima that he claimed lived in his glove. And on the days he started, when most pitchers are serious and reserved, he put on a clubhouse show unlike anything his teammates had ever seen: strutting, singing, joking, dancing.

“And a lot of times,” says teammate Brad Ausmus, “just in a jockstrap.”

A child of the Dominican Republic, Lima made his debut for the Detroit Tigers in 1994 and pitched for five teams across 14 years. He dazzled at times, was a meatball king in others, and always stayed true to himself. When he threw his final major-league pitch in 2006, he had a career ERA that hovered above 5. But Lima Time never stopped. He went to Korea. He pitched in independent leagues in California and New Jersey and Canada and kept the dream alive.

He died in 2010 at the age of 37, likely of cardiac arrhythmia, according to a Los Angeles County coroner, leaving behind his wife, five children and a million stories. The night before his death, he went out dancing.

“He was one of the best teammates I ever had,” says third baseman Chris Truby.

“One of my favorite teammates ever,” says catcher Paul Lo Duca.

“He was one of the true characters of his time,” says pitching coach Guy Hansen. “There was no doubt about it.”

Question: Does anything stop Lima Time?

Jose Lima to The Windsor Star: “Nothing stops Lima Time.”

Lima hasn’t even made it through three full innings when he gets pulled from a game in the Dominican. After Lima exits, Mendy Lopez goes into the clubhouse to check on his friend. To his surprise, he finds Lima dressed in nice clothes, about to head out.

“Lima, what are you doing?”

Lima says he has a gig that night.

Lopez can’t hide his disbelief: “Lima, you just got crushed!”

“I know,” Lima says. “That’s the game. They killed me tonight; I get them next time. But I’ve got to go sing.”

If you want to understand the worldview of Jose Lima, it’s best to start with July 19, 2001. Lima was 28 years old. He owned a 6.90 ERA. He might have been the worst pitcher in the majors. He had allowed 48 home runs the season before and permitted 24 earned runs for the Astros in April alone. He was traded back to the Detroit Tigers, where he continued to bleed runs at an astonishing rate.

“There was a game where he gave up eight runs in what felt like two minutes,” says former teammate C.J. Nitkowski.

But then on July 19, 2001, Lima Time returned. He threw a complete game against the New York Yankees in Detroit. He allowed one earned run. He danced and sang and drove his opponents batty. His ERA was 6.18 … and the flight after the game was a party.

Lima popped bottles and pounded drinks. He pestered Nitkowski about his pregnant wife. (“I hope the baby doesn’t look like you,” he said.) He held court and jabbered with teammates for hours.

“When he had that good one,” Nitkowski says, “he acted like he was the greatest pitcher in the world.”

That was Lima. He understood failure was part of life and refused to let bad performances diminish Lima Time. He celebrated the highs and moved past the lows, and he made teammates such as Nitkowski envious in the process.

“You never knew he had a bad day,” Nitkowski says. 

When he gave up six runs in his MLB debut, he thought about how proud his family would be that he made it. When he was shelled by the Braves in 1999, allowing 10 hits and seven runs, he came out of the shower and witnessed a scrum of reporters, looking nervous and apprehensive.

“You guys scared of Lima or something?” he said. “It’s just a ballgame, guys. Don’t be scared of Lima. Come on, talk to Lima.”

In the end, he had one abiding belief: As long as he had a jersey with his name on it, as long as he had a ball and a game to pitch, he was happy. 

“I don’t care if it’s here, the Dominican Republic or Russia,” he said early in his career. “I just want to play.”

Question: Is it possible to have too much Jose Lima?

Jose Lima to The Galveston Daily News: “Too much Lima? Are you kidding? Are you tired of Lima, my man? Lima Time is fun time. Sit back and enjoy it, my man.”

Lima is pitching for the Edmonton Capitals in something called the Golden Baseball League. Every time the Capitals go on the road, Lima puts on a golf visor with a fake blonde mullet flowing down the back.

The Capitals fly commercial, and at the airport people recognize Lima with his familiar goatee. Still, when they approach him, he acts confused.

“No, no,” he says. “I throw bags at this airport. I’m the baggage handler. I’m just on lunch break.”

Or he tells the people he gets that all the time, then mimics Jose Lima’s windup.

The part that kills teammate Joey Gomes: The people who come up to him know he is Jose Lima. Jose Lima knows they know he is Jose Lima. But he never breaks character.

When Jose Lima was 21 years old, he threw a no-hitter for the Toledo Mud Hens. He struck out 13, called his own pitches and carried a lucky rock in his back pocket. When the performance was over, he fell to the ground in joy, leapt to his feet, skipped over the first-base line and jogged to the edge of the stands, where he signed autographs for 20 minutes.

“These people might be watching me in the majors someday,” Lima said then, “and I want them to remember that Jose Lima is a nice guy.”

Lima never stopped signing autographs and interacting with fans, no matter what level of baseball he was at. When he pitched in Houston, he posted up on the corner of the dugout, scurrying back to the clubhouse in the minutes before first pitch. When Lima played in Edmonton at the end of his career, he posted up in the parking lot after games, drinking beers with local fans.

Late one night after a game in the Dominican Republic, Mendy Lopez walked back to his hotel in Santiago. The city was dead, the streets quiet. As he walked, he came across four or five guys sitting on the sidewalk. One of them was Jose Lima.

For a second, Lopez was worried. Maybe Lima was in trouble. So he stopped.

“Mendy, come here!” Lima yelled. “These guys want to talk! Let’s talk!”

Question: What is Lima about?

Jose Lima to The Galveston Daily News: “Lima is all about having fun. You’ll hardly ever see Lima not having a good time, and that’s what it’s all about.”

John Buck is a prospect with the Astros who takes himself seriously — “too seriously,” he admits. He is trying to make the 40-man roster, trying to prove he is good enough to be in the big leagues, when one day in spring training he gets jammed, bad.

From his own dugout, he hears Jose Lima’s voice boom across the field: “Peanut butter and … jaaaaam!!”

Everyone in the Astros’ dugout laughs. Buck is embarrassed at first, but he never forgets that moment.

Jose Lima stuttered when he was a boy in Santiago. Not many people knew that. He sang in clubs when he was 11. He took music lessons as a teenager. He showed off his voice before crowds of thousands. But sometimes, he stuttered in his native Spanish.

When he signed with the Tigers for $2,000 at age 17, he came to the United States and started to learn English. He started with the only thing that made sense: Music.  

“He would listen to songs on the radio,” says Mike Lumley, a former minor-league teammate. “He would sing them to remember the words, and that’s how he started learning to speak English in the minor leagues.”

In time, Lumley realized something.

“In English,” he says, “he never stuttered, ever.”

Lima sang everywhere: the clubhouse, the field, the cage, at clubs on off days in New York.

Lima’s speaking voice was a human drumroll, rapid fire and on beat. He sang with flair. Sometimes it seemed like he was talking and singing at the same time.

“His favorite thing was when a hitter got jammed,” says Gomes, a teammate from Edmonton. “He would almost wait for it to get quiet and then go: ‘Jaaaaaam! Ooooh, jaaaaaaam! Oh that was a jaaaam!’ Like he was singing a show tune.”

Jaaaaam. It was musical, it was funny, but it was also an ethos, as much a part of Lima as Lima Time. It’s why Buck calls the day he got jammed as a young prospect a “core memory,” something that still gives him goosebumps to talk about.

“Because of what it meant and what it did,” Buck says. “Like, hey, don’t take yourself so seriously. Let’s have fun.”

And one thing about Jose Lima: He never stopped having fun.

“He is sorely missed,” Nitkowski says.

“I was blessed to have Lima as a teammate,” says Mendy Lopez. “Like, blessed. I cannot thank God enough to have a guy like him.”

One final Lima story: Lima is pitching for the Edmonton Capitals. It’s 2009.

Joey Gomes is at the plate. In the dugout Lima predicts that Gomes will go “Jumanji” — Lima’s word for a massive home run.

Right on cue, Gomes hits a massive home run. Full Jumanji. Lima is the first one out of the dugout to greet Gomes. There are hardly any fans at the ballpark, just a smattering of polite applause. Lima is a long, long way from the big leagues and his peak, but in the dugout he is ecstatic. He still has a jersey with his name on it. A teammate takes a video, and Lima looks right at the camera, delight in his eyes, his words running together:

“You know, sometimes you got to call the s—, you know what I mean? That’s the way it is in this business: You call the s—, the s— happens.”

Then: “Jaaaaaaaaam!”

 

Apparently, Mrs. Lima has remarried.

[Wulaw Horn 19,152]

7 minutes ago, runthebone said:

Did anyone post the Lima article?  If so, I missed it:

https://theathletic.com/4437514/2023/05/16/remembering-jose-lima-time/

RIP, Lima Time

  Reveal hidden contents

The enduring joy of Jose Lima, one of baseball’s most unforgettable characters

Rustin Dodd, Jayson Jenks

A quick Jose Lima story: It’s winter ball in Mexico, and Lima has just surrendered more than a mere home run. He has given up a bomb.

Mendy Lopez watches Lima, his old friend, from the opposing dugout. Lima looks furious on the mound. He is years removed from his 20-win, All-Star season with the Astros and no longer in the big leagues. He trails the hitter around the bases like a mad man, yelling all the way to home plate.

“Holy s—,” Lopez thinks, “they’re gonna fight.”

When the bomb-masher steps into the dugout, Lopez rushes over: “What was Lima saying to you? Why didn’t you fight? Lima was aggressive!”

The guy shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “He was just saying that that was a great bomb!”

That was Lima Time.

Another quick Lima story: It’s the late 1990s, and Scott Ward is sitting in the front row at an Astros spring training game in Florida when his friend Bruce from Baltimore calls.

Bruce asks Ward what he is doing, so Ward, a random fan from Florida, says he’s about to watch Jose Lima hit. Lima is at the peak of his career: a regular on the Jim Rome Show, a fan favorite, the subject of a Sports Illustrated feature. When Lima hears his name, his head snaps. He is only a few feet from Ward in the on-deck circle.

“Who are you talking to?” Lima asks.

“Just a friend of mine from Baltimore,” Ward says.

“I want you to tell him that my fastball is jumpin’ today, man,” Lima says.

“Bruce, Jose Lima wants me to tell you that his fastball is jumping today,” Ward says.

“Bulls—,” Bruce says.

Ward passes along Bruce’s message. Lima tells Ward to put the phone up to the net. “I want to tell you my fastball is smokin’ today like nobody ever saw,” Lima crows to Bruce from Baltimore, to the delight of Ward and everyone around him. “They can’t see it, they can’t hit it.”

That was Lima Time, too.

More essence than brand, more worldview than gimmick, Lima Time was singing merengue before games and signing autographs long after them. It was languid days on the golf course and hot nights at the club. It was comebacks and miracles and a million changeups — all shorthand for one of the most improbably unforgettable careers in baseball history.

“It wasn’t an act,” says John Buck, one of Lima’s former catchers. “It was full-blown passion.”

Lima sang a song called El Mambo de Lima and line-danced to Randy Travis. He fired an imaginary gun at hitters after strikeouts and shouted at the Mini Jose Lima that he claimed lived in his glove. And on the days he started, when most pitchers are serious and reserved, he put on a clubhouse show unlike anything his teammates had ever seen: strutting, singing, joking, dancing.

“And a lot of times,” says teammate Brad Ausmus, “just in a jockstrap.”

A child of the Dominican Republic, Lima made his debut for the Detroit Tigers in 1994 and pitched for five teams across 14 years. He dazzled at times, was a meatball king in others, and always stayed true to himself. When he threw his final major-league pitch in 2006, he had a career ERA that hovered above 5. But Lima Time never stopped. He went to Korea. He pitched in independent leagues in California and New Jersey and Canada and kept the dream alive.

He died in 2010 at the age of 37, likely of cardiac arrhythmia, according to a Los Angeles County coroner, leaving behind his wife, five children and a million stories. The night before his death, he went out dancing.

“He was one of the best teammates I ever had,” says third baseman Chris Truby.

“One of my favorite teammates ever,” says catcher Paul Lo Duca.

“He was one of the true characters of his time,” says pitching coach Guy Hansen. “There was no doubt about it.”

Question: Does anything stop Lima Time?

Jose Lima to The Windsor Star: “Nothing stops Lima Time.”

Lima hasn’t even made it through three full innings when he gets pulled from a game in the Dominican. After Lima exits, Mendy Lopez goes into the clubhouse to check on his friend. To his surprise, he finds Lima dressed in nice clothes, about to head out.

“Lima, what are you doing?”

Lima says he has a gig that night.

Lopez can’t hide his disbelief: “Lima, you just got crushed!”

“I know,” Lima says. “That’s the game. They killed me tonight; I get them next time. But I’ve got to go sing.”

If you want to understand the worldview of Jose Lima, it’s best to start with July 19, 2001. Lima was 28 years old. He owned a 6.90 ERA. He might have been the worst pitcher in the majors. He had allowed 48 home runs the season before and permitted 24 earned runs for the Astros in April alone. He was traded back to the Detroit Tigers, where he continued to bleed runs at an astonishing rate.

“There was a game where he gave up eight runs in what felt like two minutes,” says former teammate C.J. Nitkowski.

But then on July 19, 2001, Lima Time returned. He threw a complete game against the New York Yankees in Detroit. He allowed one earned run. He danced and sang and drove his opponents batty. His ERA was 6.18 … and the flight after the game was a party.

Lima popped bottles and pounded drinks. He pestered Nitkowski about his pregnant wife. (“I hope the baby doesn’t look like you,” he said.) He held court and jabbered with teammates for hours.

“When he had that good one,” Nitkowski says, “he acted like he was the greatest pitcher in the world.”

That was Lima. He understood failure was part of life and refused to let bad performances diminish Lima Time. He celebrated the highs and moved past the lows, and he made teammates such as Nitkowski envious in the process.

“You never knew he had a bad day,” Nitkowski says. 

When he gave up six runs in his MLB debut, he thought about how proud his family would be that he made it. When he was shelled by the Braves in 1999, allowing 10 hits and seven runs, he came out of the shower and witnessed a scrum of reporters, looking nervous and apprehensive.

“You guys scared of Lima or something?” he said. “It’s just a ballgame, guys. Don’t be scared of Lima. Come on, talk to Lima.”

In the end, he had one abiding belief: As long as he had a jersey with his name on it, as long as he had a ball and a game to pitch, he was happy. 

“I don’t care if it’s here, the Dominican Republic or Russia,” he said early in his career. “I just want to play.”

Question: Is it possible to have too much Jose Lima?

Jose Lima to The Galveston Daily News: “Too much Lima? Are you kidding? Are you tired of Lima, my man? Lima Time is fun time. Sit back and enjoy it, my man.”

Lima is pitching for the Edmonton Capitals in something called the Golden Baseball League. Every time the Capitals go on the road, Lima puts on a golf visor with a fake blonde mullet flowing down the back.

The Capitals fly commercial, and at the airport people recognize Lima with his familiar goatee. Still, when they approach him, he acts confused.

“No, no,” he says. “I throw bags at this airport. I’m the baggage handler. I’m just on lunch break.”

Or he tells the people he gets that all the time, then mimics Jose Lima’s windup.

The part that kills teammate Joey Gomes: The people who come up to him know he is Jose Lima. Jose Lima knows they know he is Jose Lima. But he never breaks character.

When Jose Lima was 21 years old, he threw a no-hitter for the Toledo Mud Hens. He struck out 13, called his own pitches and carried a lucky rock in his back pocket. When the performance was over, he fell to the ground in joy, leapt to his feet, skipped over the first-base line and jogged to the edge of the stands, where he signed autographs for 20 minutes.

“These people might be watching me in the majors someday,” Lima said then, “and I want them to remember that Jose Lima is a nice guy.”

Lima never stopped signing autographs and interacting with fans, no matter what level of baseball he was at. When he pitched in Houston, he posted up on the corner of the dugout, scurrying back to the clubhouse in the minutes before first pitch. When Lima played in Edmonton at the end of his career, he posted up in the parking lot after games, drinking beers with local fans.

Late one night after a game in the Dominican Republic, Mendy Lopez walked back to his hotel in Santiago. The city was dead, the streets quiet. As he walked, he came across four or five guys sitting on the sidewalk. One of them was Jose Lima.

For a second, Lopez was worried. Maybe Lima was in trouble. So he stopped.

“Mendy, come here!” Lima yelled. “These guys want to talk! Let’s talk!”

Question: What is Lima about?

Jose Lima to The Galveston Daily News: “Lima is all about having fun. You’ll hardly ever see Lima not having a good time, and that’s what it’s all about.”

John Buck is a prospect with the Astros who takes himself seriously — “too seriously,” he admits. He is trying to make the 40-man roster, trying to prove he is good enough to be in the big leagues, when one day in spring training he gets jammed, bad.

From his own dugout, he hears Jose Lima’s voice boom across the field: “Peanut butter and … jaaaaam!!”

Everyone in the Astros’ dugout laughs. Buck is embarrassed at first, but he never forgets that moment.

Jose Lima stuttered when he was a boy in Santiago. Not many people knew that. He sang in clubs when he was 11. He took music lessons as a teenager. He showed off his voice before crowds of thousands. But sometimes, he stuttered in his native Spanish.

When he signed with the Tigers for $2,000 at age 17, he came to the United States and started to learn English. He started with the only thing that made sense: Music.  

“He would listen to songs on the radio,” says Mike Lumley, a former minor-league teammate. “He would sing them to remember the words, and that’s how he started learning to speak English in the minor leagues.”

In time, Lumley realized something.

“In English,” he says, “he never stuttered, ever.”

Lima sang everywhere: the clubhouse, the field, the cage, at clubs on off days in New York.

Lima’s speaking voice was a human drumroll, rapid fire and on beat. He sang with flair. Sometimes it seemed like he was talking and singing at the same time.

“His favorite thing was when a hitter got jammed,” says Gomes, a teammate from Edmonton. “He would almost wait for it to get quiet and then go: ‘Jaaaaaam! Ooooh, jaaaaaaam! Oh that was a jaaaam!’ Like he was singing a show tune.”

Jaaaaam. It was musical, it was funny, but it was also an ethos, as much a part of Lima as Lima Time. It’s why Buck calls the day he got jammed as a young prospect a “core memory,” something that still gives him goosebumps to talk about.

“Because of what it meant and what it did,” Buck says. “Like, hey, don’t take yourself so seriously. Let’s have fun.”

And one thing about Jose Lima: He never stopped having fun.

“He is sorely missed,” Nitkowski says.

“I was blessed to have Lima as a teammate,” says Mendy Lopez. “Like, blessed. I cannot thank God enough to have a guy like him.”

One final Lima story: Lima is pitching for the Edmonton Capitals. It’s 2009.

Joey Gomes is at the plate. In the dugout Lima predicts that Gomes will go “Jumanji” — Lima’s word for a massive home run.

Right on cue, Gomes hits a massive home run. Full Jumanji. Lima is the first one out of the dugout to greet Gomes. There are hardly any fans at the ballpark, just a smattering of polite applause. Lima is a long, long way from the big leagues and his peak, but in the dugout he is ecstatic. He still has a jersey with his name on it. A teammate takes a video, and Lima looks right at the camera, delight in his eyes, his words running together:

“You know, sometimes you got to call the s—, you know what I mean? That’s the way it is in this business: You call the s—, the s— happens.”

Then: “Jaaaaaaaaam!”

 

Apparently, Mrs. Lima has remarried.

Are we all in agreement worth the herpes? 
I miss Lima time. 

[HtownHorn 14,781]

Lima mentally fucked himself when MMP opened, and never recovered to his Astrodome self. Had a great 2-year run on our 1998 and 1999 teams.

[Jshep34 2,321]

Chris truby, wow that's name forgot about for years. Minor league infield coordinator for pirates now.
Wish players had that passion and love playing baseball like Lima did.

[Seasick Sailor 3,747]

 

[Hank Chinaski 6,321]

15 minutes ago, Seasick Sailor said:

 

[The Dog 44,140]

 

[Hornsbay22 470]

Good luck fuckers

[runthebone 8,046]

I've missed him, even his TOOTBLANs.  He's the soul of the team.

[Scraps 13,577]

Well i said no better time than against the shitty A's.


I also said Abreu will hit a homer or 7 this weekend.

The past month and a half was a foreshadowing of life without Altuve and I did not fucking like it one bit. Gonna hate it when he is finally done in Houston.

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

The Captain is back !

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

What’s Altuve’s first at bat ? Go ….

 

Weak ground out to 2nd 

[kevwun 15,912]

1st pitch Crawford Box

[runthebone 8,046]

1 for 18 rehab, so...probably just a double

[David Dennison 18,947]

 

[Chuckie Finster 22,737]

Dusty Baker is not a serious person.

[Seasick Sailor 3,747]

[kevwun 15,912]

I guess Altuve being back is somehow going to magically fix Abreu. 

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

Dubon out in cf shagging balls 

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

We have no back up 3rd baseman 

[kevwun 15,912]

Dubon can play 3rd.

[UTPhil2006 3,812]

Salazar still on the team and Abreu batting 4th. Things that make you go hmmmm

[dr99 560]

The offense finally picks up after moving Abreu out of cleanup, and Dusty sneaks him back in there with Altuve returning. What a jackass.

[UTexasFight 9,528]

27 minutes ago, David Dennison said:

 

Motherfucker the range of emotion I just experienced in the span a 4 short names stacked on top of each other 

 

 

dammit dusty

Got :$;&28-),!.’&747372&n!!!

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

Abreu needs to get it going this weekend

[Jshep34 2,321]

What is dusty thinking bringing up a 2b from AA to hit leadoff tonight? The dude got bumped down few days ago and is now somehow hitting leadoff tonight. This team is so screwed and stupid.

Great to see the goat back in uniform

[Scraps 13,577]

even Abreu can fuck up this high school pitching staff.  Yall chill  (and if he doesn't after this 3 game set then just straight up release the dude cause there is zero hope) 

Also thank fucking god Hensley is gone.  

Edited May 19, 2023 by Scraps

[Scraps 13,577]

dp

Edited May 19, 2023 by Scraps

[Seasick Sailor 3,747]

Hopefully Altuve's player evaluation skills are better than Baggy's:

 

[uoftorange 1,388]

5 hours ago, runthebone said:

Apparently, Mrs. Lima has remarried.

She lived not far from me, our kids played baseball together for a bit.  Was married to Roberto Clemente Jr for a good while until he cheated all over town on her.  

Too much info, but she started gaining weight and in weird places a while back.  Turns out they ended up removing the breast implants (and replacing it seams) and one was covered in mold.  On her way back to her old self from what I've heard.  

[Wulaw Horn 19,152]

1 hour ago, Chuckie Finster said:

Dusty Baker is not a serious person.

I mean, it just kills a piece of my soul every time he does something suboptimal with the lineup. I see at least 4 mistakes in this one.

No Chas against a lefty, Maldy over Diaz, splitting up Yordan and Tucker and Abreu batting 4th.  I mean, that goes beyond stuff like hit your best guy 2nd (Alvarez) and shit like that which might be a bit controversial. I mean just straight up there's no fucking reason why it should be this way day in day out obvious dumb shit in filling out the card. 

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

Abreu will see the best pitches hitting between Ruth and Gehrig, especially vs the A’s, especially in May. We have to get him going. 
 

 

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

You coach this team for game #44 and (more importantly us) the games past #162. We need Abreu for that playoff run 

Edited May 19, 2023 by tx 3 putt

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

There’s a daily twitter thread to pick apart the line up …… 😂

 

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

Garcia had Tommy John today 💪💪💪

he’s going to be 🔥🔥🔥 when he comes back 

[Wulaw Horn 19,152]

25 minutes ago, tx 3 putt said:

You coach this team for game #44 and (more importantly us) the games past #162. We need Abreu for that playoff run 

Cool.  Now explain why Maldy has played 57 of the first 44 games and Diaz has 14 AB’s if it’s about the long term and preparing for the playoffs. 

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

Keep bringing him along. As of yesterday, this team was a on pace for 90 ?  Diaz catching two games a week would be fun to see. 

the bigger question, is Diaz the future to the point that Lee is trade bait ? 

unpopular opinion but I don’t give a fuck, I’d be ok with another year of maldy and diaz, I like the combo with this staff. Does Lee speak Spanish ?

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

Don’t know if I said this or not, but that hooks roster has the potential of another core of mlb players building there. Get down there and see them

 

[Welch 635]

People who claim the Astros got off too easily for the sign-stealing scandal have never had to suffer through having Dusty Baker as their manager.

[henrygandorf 29,194]

1 hour ago, Wulaw Horn said:

I mean, it just kills a piece of my soul every time he does something suboptimal with the lineup. I see at least 4 mistakes in this one.

No Chas against a lefty, Maldy over Diaz, splitting up Yordan and Tucker and Abreu batting 4th.  I mean, that goes beyond stuff like hit your best guy 2nd (Alvarez) and shit like that which might be a bit controversial. I mean just straight up there's no fucking reason why it should be this way day in day out obvious dumb shit in filling out the card. 

there were times (2019, cough) when bregman would've been that guy.  when springer led off, altuve was that guy.  dusty just has this old man mentality where a big run producer like yordan needs to hit 3/4 whereas it's the job of 1/2 to get on base and keep the train moving.  if uncle mike comes back and is back to his old slappy ways, i assume he'll hit 2nd?  this of course assumes he's not dead.  i think i would rather tuve-pena-yordan-bregs-tucker-abreu if he's insisting on alternating righty lefty.

pena is 2nd on the team in hits (dubon) and his slg is basically the same as tucker.  i don't mind him slotting up and seeing fastballs.

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

😂😂😂😂everyone likes free gum 

 

Edited May 19, 2023 by tx 3 putt

[Limp Brisket 546]

[tx 3 putt 77,434]

[Scraps 13,577]

Figured out the problem for all you Dusty haters. It is because he wears sunglasses obviously