Wherefore art thou, Missile?
I, along with some of my buddies (including Sports Radio 610 pandering blogger Kentucky Scott), attended the 'Stros-Rockies game last night. While it was surely pleasing to see Andy Pettitte throwing darts, Berkman leaving the yard, and Chris Burke raise his batting average above .180, I couldn't help but feel that the fans of Houston were robbed last night. Robbed of the chance to welcome the anchor of the 2004 NLCS meltdown--Dan "The Missile" Miceli--back to H-town. I think the roughly 9,000 people that stuck around through the 8th inning did it for only one reason: We all hoped and prayed it was going to be Missile Time. Alas, Clint Hurdle would rather let his pitchers die on the vine (see Kennedy, J. and Anderson, M.) than give the fans what they paid to see. Is it really too much to ask for Miceli to get into a game against his former team in front of his former fans? He was clearly warmed up and ready to go. Tension was at a fever pitch, be it from the moment or the beer. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that Hurdle's decision to save Miceli was the worst decision anyone has ever made in the history of mankind.
Worse, the Missile didn't even have the guts to appear on the field after the game. While his bullpen mates made the customary walk through the outfield to the dugout, Miceli cowered in the pen and took the back way out. I don't know what he was scared of--we just wanted to scream that he cost our city a chance at the World Series by serving Albert Pujols a meatball in Game 6 last year. Personally, I just wanted to let him know that dozens of Astros fans died after his meltdown having never seen their beloved team advance to the World Series. I just wanted to let him know that he singlehandedly murdered a little piece of me when he served up a pitch that Mickey Rooney could have hit for a ground-rule double. Why wouldn't he allow me to get that off my chest? Even though he's left the Astros, Miceli continues to ruin my baseball experiences. Damn you, Missile. Damn you straight to Denver.
Worse, the Missile didn't even have the guts to appear on the field after the game. While his bullpen mates made the customary walk through the outfield to the dugout, Miceli cowered in the pen and took the back way out. I don't know what he was scared of--we just wanted to scream that he cost our city a chance at the World Series by serving Albert Pujols a meatball in Game 6 last year. Personally, I just wanted to let him know that dozens of Astros fans died after his meltdown having never seen their beloved team advance to the World Series. I just wanted to let him know that he singlehandedly murdered a little piece of me when he served up a pitch that Mickey Rooney could have hit for a ground-rule double. Why wouldn't he allow me to get that off my chest? Even though he's left the Astros, Miceli continues to ruin my baseball experiences. Damn you, Missile. Damn you straight to Denver.
1 Comments:
Brilliant. Our excited anticipation for the unveiling of the Missile was only met by the tingling in Cha-Cha's kid's stomach as he prepared to impale himself on a plate full of (free) tamales. Is there any way to inflict appendicitis on someone. I don't mean to intend that Cha-Cha poisoned Q's grub...ok, well, yeah I do.
I hope Matt Anderson's agent has alternative income sources.
NOTE: Dan Miceli's splits from 2004 are amazing...0.63 ERA in April, 0.00 ERA in September.
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