(astros) The Thrilla, next to the Players' Wives and GF's

I feel a little self conscious about starting a thread about my personal experience at Game 4. But I'm doing it b/c I got to sit very close to the players wives and gf's section and figured that this might be interesting to many fans, because they're hot and because their reactions were so kool. If this should be merged into another thread, please do.

Well, I was at the game, got invited at the last minute by a law firm. We had great tix, sitting just 1 section to the first base side of home plate. More importantly, and more on this later, I sat 1 section away from the players wives and girlfriends section.

My hosts told me early on that the next section over was the players' wives/gf's. Now, I'm a pretty serious sports fan (who had pronounced the Stros dead in May) but I had to check out the section. The first thing I have to say is that Jason Lane has an absolute hottie for a wife/gf. I know, I know. I wish I had pictures. But damn . . .

Roy O's wife sang the nat'l anthem and came to her seats. She's a petit gal, brown hair, short, fairly thin, girl next door pretty, good figure. The kind of girl that you can easily see Roy with.

In the several rows between Lane's hottie and Roy O's wife, I'm assuming the women were wives and gf's. Well, I can say that the majority of them were NOT trophy hotties. Actually, most of them would be the very pretty, nice looking southern belle types. A good mix of blondes and brunettes. A couple of older women, I'd say in their late 30's or early 40's (yeah, I know, who you callin old?), clearly had work done and were not shy about form fitting tops. But it would be fair to say that all of them were 7's and 8's on most people's scales. Finally, I have to say that in our section, there was some ridiculous talent, and more of the sexy types. In the row behind us, there was a stunning, and I mean stunning blondie, about 5-9, figure and face like Diane Lane (which in my book is close to perfection). And she was kind enough to be wearing a peasant's blouse that left little to the imagination. I have to say that the talent in the nice sections of Stros games is just insane, far better than Rockets games.

Back to the game: All of us were quite dejected when Laroche hit the grand slam, but there wasn't that resignation to defeat that you might have felt as recently as 2 years ago. In our section and the wives/gf's, the sense was . . . ok, let's go get 'em. chip away. start a rally.


When the Bravos pulled Hudson, everyone said - OK, here we go. This is our time. Two guys behind me showed up at 11:30 drunk already (at 11:30 a.m.!!) and left in the 7th inning, saying that we were screwed b/c smoltz was going to kick our asses in game 5. With each improbable play and pitching sequence in the bottom of the 8th, the wifes/gf's were all screaming and clinging to each other. Oddly, I wasn't thinking about how that seemed really sexy and hot. Somehow, the sports side of my brain overrode the sex side. Anyway, I just saw fans rooting for the team who happened to be hotties.

When Farnsworth failed to retire Luke Scott (I think it was Scott) and Berkman came up, everyone's reaction was grand slam time. I looked over to the wives/gf's and it seemed like they even acknowledged our best bopper was up to bat. It was clear that Farnsworth was having trouble finding the plate with anything but a fastball. I don't remember the count but I recall screaming, "Screw it!! It's a fast ball Berkman, go for it all." A single wasn't going to do. We needed to strike hard and fast.

And when Berkman connected, it was bedlam. Total chaos. There was no hush, wondering if the ball was high enough. The crowd erupted like it never had. We were louder than when Kent hit the Game 5 walk off home run. I thought I was in Major League, when everyone at the bar was hi-fiving total strangers. Now, there wasn't anyone with a rainbow mohawk, but you get my meaning. I didn't get the chance to hi-5 the hot blonde sitting behind us. Damn.

Jump forward to the Ausmus at bat. Everyone was still hopeful, but it felt like it wasn't happening for us. I think most everyone felt proud of the comeback and there was nothing shameful about falling just short. I was still animated, saying where's Bagwell? Where's Bagwell? You can't leave him on the pine!!! I have to say that I'm not a huge Ausmus fan and generally refer to him as Assmunch. Everytime I say that, my wife laughs hysterically and then says, Don't say that in front of the baby!

Well, Assmunch connected . . . and everyone roared. But it wasn't a a home run scream. From the crowd noise, you could tell that everyone thought, yes! a 2 out double. I mean, it's Assmunch. A double is freakingfantastic. Flash back to the 1.2 seconds of ball flight. It's minor bedlam of the 2 out double variety and I'm jumping up and down like a moron, clutching the shoulder of a 55 year old senior partner at a big firm, screaming "Wait, wait, look . . ." I'm pointing at the ball flight, squinting my eyes, as if I have some hope of actually seeing if it can be a homer.

The ball crashes off the concrete facade and I look over to the ump. He does the finger twirly sign, and I start doing it like a crazy man, yelling "Holy sh-t, it's a homer. It's a homer!" The 55 yr old senior partner -- he freezes when he realizes what I'm saying and starts jumping up and down . . . clearly not typical behavior for someone that is probably pulling down a cool 600K a year. I'm doing the finger twirly thing like it's going out of style, like John Travolta and Olivia Newton John in a high school dance-off.

As Assmunch is rounding the bases, I come to my senses and pan over to the wives and gf's. Lots of pretty women hugging and jumping up and down. Again, very oddly, I wasn't thinking how sexy that was. Just elated sports fans. I owe Assmunch a letter of apology.

In the 10th, we realize we're exhausted and they turned off the beer and are out of hot dogs. I mean, we've been doing calisthenics for 3 hours now. On our feet every time we have 2 strikes on a Braves hitter. On our feet every time we have men on base. I recall looking at the scoreboard a lot.

At some point in the 12th inning, I'm saying to everyone . . . Why the hell does our line up look like it's been through a wood chipper and Atlanta's lineup is completely intact.

I age a year each time Wheeler has to pull a Houdini to escape jams. It's just horrible. Horrible. But he kept doing it and I was light headed from the exertion and lack of food and beer. I started chanting, by myself, Leave him in, Leave him in. Yeah, genius me waned Wheeler to go a 4th inning.

When Clemens came in, it really juiced up the tired crowd. We figured that he could give us 1 or 2 innings, and Garner would let Raul Chavez pitch. I stood up and said, I want to play!!! We needed a playbill to figure out who was playing where. Brutlett was all over the place. I was terrified that the Braves would bunt when Chavez was playing first. The funniest thing was when Chavo got the grounder to first. I said "Oh sh-t" when the ball was struck. But Chavo just hurled himself in front of the ball, catcher style, and I think he stopped it with his bare hand. I think he was prepared to stop the ball with his face if he had to.

By the time Burke came up, we had been hoping and praying for a homer for 9 innings. Our lineup was something like Clemens, Biggio, Burke, Ensberg, Chavez, Lane, Ausmus, Vizcaino, Bruntlett. The only guys that could do damage were Biggio, Ensberg and Lane, and they'd never see a pitch to hit. When Burke came up, we all figured that time had run out. Clemens could only go so long and Bobby Cox had more pitchers and 2 Jones in the line up still. Eventually, they would rally and we were out of houdini's.

Back to the wives and gf's. They were as tired as we were and actually were laughing at different things. I think at some point, they couldn't sustain the intensity and they had to laugh at the situation. I mean our team looked like it was playing in spring training or at a charity event. Jason Lane's girl was still hot and we all probably looked at her and the blondie behind us more and more.

With a 2-0 count, I was still not expecting much from Burke. The sequence went . . .
Devine delivers . . . Burke, swinging, a drive . .
In a millisecond, the crowd went from a "WTF" reaction to "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

It was so much fun to see the astros pour onto the field and mob each other. We were exhausted but applauded forever. It was so cool to stand there as the confetti fell over us and we cheered the good guys. For about 3-4 minutes, we just stood and applauded.

Then the PA guy plays, the song that goes "Dum Dum Dooo, Hey!" "Dum Dum Doo" "Dum Dum Dooo, Hey!" "Dum Dum Doo" . . . And the crowd just loved it. It got so loud and the players seemed to recognize what was going on and many of them started to wave to the crowd and egg us on.

I get excited typing this up and, for the last time, oddly, it's not because of the sexy wives and gf's but because the Stros pulled it off.

 

I'm sticking with the assmunch moniker out of habit. As far as I'm concerned, Assmunch has cemented his place in Houston sports history and can do no wrong.

 

I know, I know. I'll google "Jason Lane's Girlfriend" and see if I get anything.

 

yeah, she could hold a note, but kept surprising everyone when she changed keys or tones without warning. I think it's a case of a good voice that needs training.