Folks who have been around here for a while know that my first true love isn’t politics – it’s baseball.  Thanks to a beloved Grandpa, I knew baseball before I could walk.

I’ve always wanted to grow up and be my Aunt Lillian.  She and her two best friends, who were also retired, rode the bus to the ballpark for every home game. They wore polyester pants and Astros jerseys.  They had perms in their short grey hair and dangly earrings with little baseballs on the end.  One Christmas I gave her a pair of light-up Astro earrings and she loved me best of all for a full year.  They brought scorecards and kept complete semi-official score of the entire game.  They thought the designated hitter rule was an abomination.  They all had a beer or two.  But best of all, these little old ladies referred to the team as “my boys.”

I, too, love the Astros, and every year they break my heart.

Except not last night.

The Astros, with a payroll of $73.8 million dollar – that’s second to last of all major league baseball teams – shut out the New York Yankees with a $213 million dollar roster.

For the non baseball fans – and shame on you! – the Astros are a very young team in a building phase.  No one expected them to win.  Anydamnthing.

They play with a love of the game and overwhelming joy at victory.  They are my boys.