White Sox 5, Astros 4 (top of the 6th)
This all-thumbs entry comes to you from Minute Maid’s charmless 9 Amigos restaurant (all the ambience of a Chilli’s with much higher ceilings). You have no idea how many dishes I’m supposed to wash to cover the costs of a standing room ticket (and I haven’t even mentioned who I’m standing on).
A little fan interference indicates that perhaps the cheap breaks are swinging the other way…though I did type that before the White Sox batted around in the 5th.
Craig Biggio is on pace to nicely avenge his wife’s slapping (if only Julio Lugo was still here to say the same), and while Mushnick nailed the Chuck Norris/Jeff Bagwell seperated-at-birth thing yesterday, I humbly submit Chris Burke and Bill Pulsipher.
Though Nolan Ryan put quite a charge into this well-heeled crowd when tossing the ceremonial first pitch, I’d like to think that J.R. Richard just hadn’t checked his voice mail.
It’s time to check Joe Crede’s urine. Not that I think he’s on something, mind you. Just trying to come up with a fun science experiment for Chris Myers while he’s killing time.
Seriously, folks, Houston’s an awesome city. All kinds of great things to do here. For instance, drive to Austin.