I grew up playing sports (basketball and baseball) and I've followed both at the professional level intermittently. I am mostly an eye-test fan, eschewing averages and stats over the pure entertainment factor. My all time favorite Houston Rocket is Ron Artest. I had a similar affinity for Carlos Gomez's tumultuous tenure in center field-- I'm in it for the characters! Honestly, I can barely wrap my head around what an adjusted +/- stat actually means.  In order to better understand the game(s) itself, I recently dipped a toe into the toxic mudslide that is sports media. Wow, what a regrettable decision! I would place sports journalism realm (aka men's gossip) well below the spineless muckraking of TMZ. 

It shouldn't be surprising that facts don't matter in sports journalism. The players themselves cling to athletics' answer to rosary beads, Livestrong wristbands with magical powers instilled to the wearer via hologram technology. If you find this strain of pseudo-science tough to swallow, wash it all down with some ionically infused alkaline battery water. Tom Brady recommends the use of brain exercises, and also plays on after sustaining a concussion. Whatever it takes to win!

After the game, the locker room reporters don't ask real questions; "Talk about the fourth quarter". That's not a question! The reporter is then free to speculate wildly about how the answer reflects a lack of work ethic and disloyalty to the always innocuous fanbase. After the next game, the reporter will ask how the athlete responded (in game) to outside criticism by the media. "Talk about how what I say outside of this room about you affects your performance" (also not a question).

Call me crazy but I can't listen to two adults argue about Michael Jordan's legacy for two hours on a weekday. Just give us what we want. MIC. THE. PLAYERS.

I moved back to Houston in 2012. I truly missed going to MLB games, it made no difference to me that my beloved 'Stros were rebuilding. In my first year of college I had a lot to figure out, but I still remember sitting in the rec center alone watching my team get clobbered 4x in a row by the White Sox. That team had all the dinosaurs of my youth, the Killer B's and a Roger Clemens that refused to die. 

I screamed in tandem at the TV along with my North TX roommate when the Rangers crapped out a few years later. In my defense, it was ideologically easier to root for the Rangers when the Astros were still in the NL. I had no job in 2012, so I regularly went to the nearly empty day games in Minute Maid. I so enjoyed being able to get in to the park for a couple bucks that the team record was irrelevant. The strangest part is that I don't recall ever seeing them lose in person, and the only player I knew by name was a young(er) Jose Altuve. I didn't understand the move to the American League or the strategic differences with having a dedicated DH spot. I was just glad to never see the Braves or Cardinals again. The new ownership brought back the H-star logo, reminding me of all the hats my dad bought for me in the cavernous Astrodome, where it felt like we were always playing the Pirates. The train conductor motif uniforms (circa '05 WS) were an all time low for the franchise IMO, overplaying the playful (deliberate) idiosyncrasies of Enron Field against my city's starring role in winning the space race vs. those pesky Russians. 

In 2015, I was accepted into a graduate business program and took a sweet day job. An intense longing sensation grew within me, unable to find the time to take in a four hour game. I followed more closely as the team slowly replaced unknowns with smart draft picks, and wouldn't you know it we beat the damn Yankees in a (wild) Wild Card game. Then followed one brutal 200 hit inning verses the Royals, Correa giveth and Correa taketh away. Those Royals went on to win the WS and I wondered if it could ever happen in Houston.

This semester, I was able to scale back my hours significantly, taking only a single online class. There was finally time for baseball, and I couldn't have picked a better time to free up my schedule. The past two years have been a real grind for me personally, and I'm celebrating my own victory. I watched countless videos of people celebrating at Minute Maid last night and was moved to actual tears. What a time to be alive!