...and your 50th anniversary present is...

They've been playing major league baseball in Houston for FIFTY years. What's even more alarming is that I can remember when it all first started.

We moved to Houston in the summer of 1960 and it wasn't long thereafter that we began hearing about an expansion team, coming in the spring of 1962. As a moderately smitten baseball fan (although—most ironically (see below)—more familiar with the American League (Tigers and Yankees mostly) than the National League where the franchise was awarded, I was thrilled.

The new team was named the Colt .45's and they played in a temporary stadium south of downtown. I vaguely remember that it was buggy and hot, but everything in Houston was buggy and hot back then. (I went through my last 6 years of public school there in un-air-conditioned classrooms, for gosh sakes.)

For obvious reasons, the games I remember attending were in the evenings (Wednesday night was Ladies Night: 50 cents got you a seat in the bleachers and all the autographs you could wrangle.) But it still rather makes me cringe to see photos like this one, from the Astros website, and think about all that unsheltered Houston sunshine:

The construction project in the background was the team's "permanent" home, at least permanent for 35 years. The Eighth Wonder of the World: the Astrodome, first indoor stadium in the world. What an exciting place it was! Even late in its active life (I went to a playoff game there in the last season of 1999) when it was getting pretty shabby, it was still a wonder.

Many, many happy memories there. My first full beer (at very a tender age, supplied by my very cool aunt). Actual double-headers (for you young-'uns, that's two baseball games for the price of one!). And, more cheap seats: in the centerfield pavilion, where the view was really quite spectacular, for $1. You could even catch home run balls there, as our son did (it was during batting practice, but it was still a home run ball...and it got autographed by the guy who hit it—Ken Caminiti, one of my Mom's favorite players, who later fell upon hard times—after the game).

Then, in 2000, we got a super new downtown park. Although I still occasionally miss the dome, Minute Maid (as it's now named...look here to see what it was originally called, and see photos from our first game there) is a very nice place to watch a game. I've often blogged about going to games there, and you can see the most photos of the place in this post. But, let me tell you, you can't get a seat at MMP for a dollar, much less 50 cents!

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In spite of our dissatisfaction over recent developments concerning our beloved team (see below), we do plan to make at least one game this season. But the other night, when they celebrated the actual 50th anniversary, to the day, of the first major league game played in Houston, I was just at home in front of our new big TV. To commemorate the date, the players were wearing old Colt's jerseys and, in spite of the less than stellar quality of my phone camera's low-light capability, I had to snap some shots.

Here's our right fielder, former pitcher Brian Bogusevic, playing (and chewing) his position in his Colts glory:

I later got a shot of Bogu at bat, and am including it especially for my sister. The red square highlights the fact that he's wearing short pants and stirrups (rather gaudily colored ones at that), which is a baseball fashion statement followed by only a few players, but which she heartily endorses...

And here's my nominee for current cutest Astro, left fielder J.D. Martinez at bat:

It slays me to think that these guys' FATHERS might not have even been sparkles in their fathers' eyes when the real Colts were on the field! 

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So, what about that bittersweet anniversary present? From the powers that be in major league baseball (which I refuse to capitalize), who spout platitudes about baseball's "sacred" traditions?

To start with, the Colt jerseys you see above might have looked a LOT lamer if mlb had had their ridiculously PC way. They didn't want the guns on the jerseys. Now, I'm about as far removed, on the general issue of firearms, from people like my NRA-member brother as it's possible to be, but this was ridiculous! Fortunately, and unusually in cases where the Astros are concerned (for the second most egregious example of Astros-screwing, google "Astros Cubs Hurricane Ike"; for the most egregious, see below), wiser heads prevailed.

Unfortunately, they didn't prevail about that 50th anniversary present.

To help you celebrate your 50 years in the National League, which was preceded by forty more years as a minor league town associated with National League teams...we're going to BOOT YOU OVER TO THE OTHER LEAGUE! Just to even out the divisions, which haven't been even for, I don't know, 20 years! There wasn't another solution?! One that would have respected baseball traditions instead of screwing them?!

Yes, I'm bitter. Yes, I get pretty choked up about this. Yes, I considered (briefly) just boycotting mlb all together.

But, I couldn't do it. The virus of the team you grow up with is a deep-seated infection. I have planned to dial back my obsession from rabid to something just the other side of casual. I don't plan to attend as many games as in the past, or watch as many on TV. But I can't just cut off that limb.

Besides, I've gotten used to cursing those in charge of baseball over the years. This will just add another talking point to the rant. And ranting is one of the things that—if we really admit it to ourselves—is one of the activities that makes being a baseball fan fun.

PLAY BALL!