The Cougars ended an up-and-down 2017 season on a high note, defeating Navy at home last Friday afternoon. The Coogs started off slow and actually trailed 7-14 at halftime, but scored 17 unanswered points in the second half.
The Good: Quarterback D'Eriq King completed 21 of 27 passes for 277 yards and a touchdown, and rushed 16 times for another 57 yards and two touchdowns. Ed Oliver went into beast mode against the Midshipmen running game, recording 2 sacks and 3.5 tackles for loss as part of a 14-tackle afternoon. Cougar cornerback Alexander Myres's interception late in the game ended any hope of a Navy comeback.
The Bad: The entire first half, for Houston. The Cougar offense sputtered, kick returner John Leday fumbled a kickoff return, the Cougar defense gave up touchdowns on drives of 75 and 55 yards, and at the half the Midshipmen dominated in total yardage (212 yards to 119) and time of possession (20:29 minutes to 9:31 minutes). Fortunately, the second half was much better for Houston; however, they still ended the game with fewer first downs, more turnovers and more penalty yards than Navy.
What It Means: The Cougars end the 2017 season with a 7-4 record (which is one win ahead of my preseason prediction), which is good for second place in the AAC West Division, and now wait to find out which bowl they'll be attending. I'll have more thoughts about the 2017 campaign once that game has been played.
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Rice fires David Baliff after 30-14 loss to UNT
The Mean Green came to Rice Stadium last weekend and handed the Owls their 11th loss of the season. The Owls briefly led the game on a interception return for a touchdown, but after that North Texas took over; the score was 24-14 in the Mean Green's favor at the half, and UNT added two field goals after halftime in spite of being held to just 84 yards in the second half.
After the tough season-ending loss, focus shifted to the future of the man who had led the program for the past eleven seasons, head coach David Bailiff. Sure enough, on Monday Rice's administration announced that they were parting ways with Bailiff:
The question now is who Rice will find to replace Bailiff. Rice is a hard place to win, due to a variety of factors including high academic standards and low fan support. It takes a special kind of coach to keep that program competitive, and even then coaching might not, by itself, be enough. As the Rice athletics program searches for their next coach, John Royal ponders the future of the program overall:
After the tough season-ending loss, focus shifted to the future of the man who had led the program for the past eleven seasons, head coach David Bailiff. Sure enough, on Monday Rice's administration announced that they were parting ways with Bailiff:
Bailiff was informed of the decision during a Monday meeting with director of athletics Joe Karlgaard.
Bailiff was 57-80 and led Owls to four bowls including three straight from 2012 through 2014.
Bailiff was named Conference USA's coach of the year twice (2008 and 2013). His 57 wins are second in school history behind Jess Neely.
Bailiff took Rice to heights it hadn't reached in more than half a century, leading the Owls to two of the school's three 10-win seasons—their first was in 1949.
During Bailiff's tenure (tied for the third-longest in school history), Rice players have regularly excelled off the field; eight players have been taken in the NFL Draft; and the school opened the $31.5 million, 60,000-square-foot Brian Patterson Center for coaches' offices and a locker and weight room in 2015.
After going 3-9 in Bailiff's first season in 2007, Rice rebounded with a 10-3 year and won the Texas Bowl in 2008. But since winning the Owls' first outright conference title in 56 years in 2013, Bailiff's teams have done progressively worse.Coach Bailiff was by all accounts a good guy - I've met him - who brought the Owls a measure of success the program hadn't experienced in a long time. But there's also little doubt that the program was trending downward under his leadership: from a 10-4 record (and Conference USA championship) in 2013, to an 8-5 record (and most recent bowl appearance) in 2014, to a 5-7 record in 2015, to a 3-9 record last season, to this season's 1-11 campaign. Given that trend, Rice AD Joe Karlgaard's decision is understandable.
The question now is who Rice will find to replace Bailiff. Rice is a hard place to win, due to a variety of factors including high academic standards and low fan support. It takes a special kind of coach to keep that program competitive, and even then coaching might not, by itself, be enough. As the Rice athletics program searches for their next coach, John Royal ponders the future of the program overall:
Is there a corner that the team can turn? Is there anything that can be done that will revitalize not only the dwindling Rice fanbase, but will somehow make the program relevant throughout Houston so that people will actually come out to Rice Stadium?
These are all questions for another day. But they all need to be addressed sooner rather than later.While Rice licks the wounds of a rough season and looks for a new coach, they might find inpiration from the team that beat them last weekend. Three seasons ago, the Mean Green had also limped their way to a 1-11 record. But Seth Littrell took over as coach following the 2015 season, and has now led North Texas to a 9-3 regular season record and a trip to the Conference USA Championship Game.
Hey, Case Keenum haters:
Turns out we were right and y'all were wrong: he really is a good quarterback.
Obviously the right environment helps; he's certainly found one with the Minnesota Vikings, which is more than could be said when he was playing with the perennially-woeful Texans. Many of the same local media types who were lambasting him during his time with the Texans are now in fact praising him, as they've come to discover what those of us who watched him at the University of Houston knew all along:
To which I say: keep up the good work, Case!
Obviously the right environment helps; he's certainly found one with the Minnesota Vikings, which is more than could be said when he was playing with the perennially-woeful Texans. Many of the same local media types who were lambasting him during his time with the Texans are now in fact praising him, as they've come to discover what those of us who watched him at the University of Houston knew all along:
Of course, any objective observer could have seen this coming from Keenum. When Keenum completes eight of his first nine passes against the Detroit Lions on Thanksgiving, he’s just showing what he always displayed at the University of Houston. He completed 69.4 percent of his passes as a Cougar. He’s always been an ultra accurate quarterback.
When Keenum slips out of a defensive end’s grasp, steps up into the pocket and delivers a bullet pass to Adam Thielen for a first down, he’s just doing what he’s always done. The same thing he did at UH while shattering the NCAA’s all-time passing records. The same thing he did in putting up 31 points against Bill Belichick’s defense for an absolutely dreadful Texans team in his first extended stint as an NFL starter back in 2013.
This is a guy who’s always made big plays throughout the entirety of his quarterbacking life.
The difference is Keenum finally has a good NFL team around him. He has weapons to utilize. And competent coaching. The same things he always had at UH.
“It’s the Case Keenum show,” Aikman beams at one point during the Thanksgiving broadcast.
Whenever anyone’s given Keenum a legitimate chance to take the stage, it always has been. Many of us saw this coming. True University of Houston fans certainly aren’t surprised by anything Keenum is doing in the NFL. The anti-Keenum rhetoric in the Houston media never reflected the true feelings in the city.Much of the local sports media, of course, is so deep in the tank for UT, A&M and the "Power 5" conferences that they are incapable of giving the University of Houston, or any of its alumni, the credit they deserve. That's probably never going to change, unfortunately. All Case Keenum can continue to do is prove his haters wrong.
To which I say: keep up the good work, Case!
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
UH takes first step towards a medical school
Something the University of Houston has been wanting for over a decade is now one step closer to reality:
Should all this fall into place, it would obviously be a huge step forward for UH. Stay tuned.
The Texas Tribune has more.
University of Houston System regents on Thursday unanimously voted to create a medical school, a long-time dream aimed at increasing the supply of primary-care doctors for Texas' most underserved areas.
Under a proposal that must be approved by the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board and a national accrediting body, UH would begin enrolling its first class of medical students in fall 2020, and reach a full complement of 480 by 2027. It would ask the Texas Legislature for $40 million over 10 years to cover some of its expenses.
"There is a tremendous need in the community here in Houston, in inner cities and in rural areas," said UH President and Chancellor Renu Khator, who called the vote "a historic day" for UH. "Our model will help us do that while preparing primary care physicians who are trained to practice in community-based clinics."
Texas ranks 47th out of 50 states in the ratio of primary care doctors per person and the shortage is expected to get worse. Despite recent pushes to increase the pipeline of doctors in Texas' rural and urban areas, a significant number of counties and communities, many in the Houston area, continue to be classified as medically underserved.I can only assume that the UH System regents sense that past political opposition to UH gaining a medical school has diminished, since I doubt they'd vote to approve its creation (and risk the embarrassment that would result if the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board rejected it) otherwise. At least one former skeptic - State Representative Garnet Coleman - seems to be on board, and the proposed medical school also has the (rather critical) support of the Texas Medical Center.
At Thursday's meeting, seven months after state lawmakers asked UH to evaluate the need for a medical school, regents approved four actions: establishing a college of medicine; applying to the state's higher education coordinating board for approval; initiating the accreditation process; and finalizing a partnership for new residency programs where newly minted doctors will train in primary care and other "needed" specialties, such as psychiatry and general surgery.
The university has a letter of intent with Hospital Corporation of America (HCA) Gulf Coast Division to create eight new residency programs and more than 100 first-year slots by 2020.
Board Chairman Tilman Fertitta said the board would "fight on" in pursuit of the college and pledged to work with state lawmakers to "make this happen." Stephen Spann, the medical school's planning dean, said conversations with Texas Gov. Greg Abbott and legislators have been "very positive."
Approval from the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board is necessary for new degree programs, not individual colleges. Raymund Paredes, the agency's leader, was at Thursday's regent committee meeting where the proposal was presented but left before the vote. A spokeswoman later said Paredes would not speculate on how the agency would receive the plan.
The price tag for the new school is expected to exceed $272 million over 13 years. In addition to the state funding, UH's plan also calls for $40 million in philanthropic gifts over 10 years, tuition revenue to cover $51 million and other revenue to cover remaining costs.The timeline, as it currently stands, is for the University of Houston to submit an application to the Texas Higher Education Coordinating Board in February of 2018 for a Doctor of Medicine degree program, and, if approval is granted, to submit an application to the Liaison Committee on Medical Education for accreditation the following August.
Should all this fall into place, it would obviously be a huge step forward for UH. Stay tuned.
The Texas Tribune has more.
Houston 17, Tulane 20
The Cougars went to New Orleans and got thoroughly outplayed and outcoached by the Green Wave.
The Good: Tulane has a pretty campus (this was my first time there) and Yulman Stadium is a nice, intimate venue for the Green Wave. It's a much better place to watch a game than the sterile and cavernous Superdome, and the St. Charles streetcar makes getting to and from campus easy.
The Bad: The Cougar offense. In spite of out-gaining Tulane in total yardage, they simply couldn't put points on the board. They managed only three points in three trips inside the red zone. The offensive playcalling was either predictably boring or incomprehensibly stupid (a 1-yard pass on 3rd and 10? Seriously?). The offense turned the ball over twice (including D'Eriq King's ill-advised pass into double coverage in the endzone that killed a promising drive), and failed on two critical fourth down attempts (one of which probably should have been a field goal attempt instead, and the other of which would turn out to be the game-losing play). It did not help that RB Duke Catalon was injured and had to leave the game early.
The Ugly: The Cougar defense. It was dreadful, allowing Tulane to gain 417 total yards of offense (including 251 yards through the air, which is significant because Tulane is not a pass-happy offense), convert 8 out of 15 third down attempts (the Cougars simply couldn't get the Green Wave off the field; Tulane's last two scoring drives of the first half were of 94 and 77 yards, respectively), and eat up clock in the process (the Green Wave dominated time of possession, 36:24 to 23:36). In the fourth quarter, the Cougars finally scored a touchdown to go ahead 17-13. The defense allowed the Green Wave to retake the lead for good only 33 seconds later, when they were utterly embarrassed by a 64-yard touchdown pass from Tulane QB Johnathan Banks to WR Terren Encalade (who utterly owned the UH secondary and finished the day with 8 receptions for 168 yards).
What It Means: In the overall scheme of things, not much - the Cougars already have the six wins they need to be bowl eligible, and were not in contention for the AAC West division title even before Memphis clinched it Saturday.
That being said, this loss, which is almost as bad as the flop against Tulsa, suggests that this team has some real problems that can't be rectified simply by putting in D'Eriq King at quarterback. John Royal notes:
The Cougars end their regular season with a home game against Navy on the day after Thanksgiving in front of what will likely be the smallest crowd in TDECU Stadium history.
The Good: Tulane has a pretty campus (this was my first time there) and Yulman Stadium is a nice, intimate venue for the Green Wave. It's a much better place to watch a game than the sterile and cavernous Superdome, and the St. Charles streetcar makes getting to and from campus easy.
The Bad: The Cougar offense. In spite of out-gaining Tulane in total yardage, they simply couldn't put points on the board. They managed only three points in three trips inside the red zone. The offensive playcalling was either predictably boring or incomprehensibly stupid (a 1-yard pass on 3rd and 10? Seriously?). The offense turned the ball over twice (including D'Eriq King's ill-advised pass into double coverage in the endzone that killed a promising drive), and failed on two critical fourth down attempts (one of which probably should have been a field goal attempt instead, and the other of which would turn out to be the game-losing play). It did not help that RB Duke Catalon was injured and had to leave the game early.
The Ugly: The Cougar defense. It was dreadful, allowing Tulane to gain 417 total yards of offense (including 251 yards through the air, which is significant because Tulane is not a pass-happy offense), convert 8 out of 15 third down attempts (the Cougars simply couldn't get the Green Wave off the field; Tulane's last two scoring drives of the first half were of 94 and 77 yards, respectively), and eat up clock in the process (the Green Wave dominated time of possession, 36:24 to 23:36). In the fourth quarter, the Cougars finally scored a touchdown to go ahead 17-13. The defense allowed the Green Wave to retake the lead for good only 33 seconds later, when they were utterly embarrassed by a 64-yard touchdown pass from Tulane QB Johnathan Banks to WR Terren Encalade (who utterly owned the UH secondary and finished the day with 8 receptions for 168 yards).
What It Means: In the overall scheme of things, not much - the Cougars already have the six wins they need to be bowl eligible, and were not in contention for the AAC West division title even before Memphis clinched it Saturday.
That being said, this loss, which is almost as bad as the flop against Tulsa, suggests that this team has some real problems that can't be rectified simply by putting in D'Eriq King at quarterback. John Royal notes:
The Cougars are still searching for an identity. The swagger from the Tom Herman years is missing. Putting in King and letting him try to recreate Greg Ward Jr.’s magic as the quarterback has brought some spark to the team, but there’s still too much inconsistency. The injury to running back Duke Catalon early in the first quarter appeared to strip the team of some effectiveness in the running game.From my perspective, it's looking more and more like the Major Applewhite hire was a mistake.
The Cougars end their regular season with a home game against Navy on the day after Thanksgiving in front of what will likely be the smallest crowd in TDECU Stadium history.
Is Houston getting an NHL team? (And what should it be called?)
Houston has been without any sort of pro hockey team for over five years. Rockets owner Tilman Fertitta might be looking to change that:
As for what the potential team should be named, well, that's easy: if the Aeros name is still available (it's unclear who currently owns the rights to it), then there's no reason not to use the name most closely associated with hockey in Houston. (And no, Chronicle, people have never confused the "Aeros" with the "Astros" in the past.)
ESPN's Greg Wyshynski thinks that Houston easily passes the "Bettman Test" for an NHL franchise, while John Royal thinks an NHL team in Houston is inevitable. Kuff also weighs in.
Rockets owner Tilman Fertitta said Thursday he is "in the very early stage of evaluating" the opportunity to bring an NHL team to Houston.
That came on the heels of a report that Fertitta recently met with NHL commissioner Gary Bettman.
The Athletic, citing multiple sources, reported Wednesday that Fertitta and Bettman met at league headquarters in New York. Bettman declined comment to the website about the meeting, adding "we're not relocating any clubs right now."
Regarding a possible team in Houston, Bettman said, "If Houston were to express an interest in having an NHL franchise, under the right circumstances, it's something we might want to consider."I'm not a huge hockey fan, but I do think Houston - as of right now, the largest city in the nation without an NHL franchise - should have, and can support, a team. Now that the biggest impediment to Houston having a hockey team - former Rockets owner Les Alexander - is out of the picture, it appears like Fertitta and the NHL are moving in that direction, although it will probably take some time to work everything out.
As for what the potential team should be named, well, that's easy: if the Aeros name is still available (it's unclear who currently owns the rights to it), then there's no reason not to use the name most closely associated with hockey in Houston. (And no, Chronicle, people have never confused the "Aeros" with the "Astros" in the past.)
ESPN's Greg Wyshynski thinks that Houston easily passes the "Bettman Test" for an NHL franchise, while John Royal thinks an NHL team in Houston is inevitable. Kuff also weighs in.
Thursday, November 09, 2017
Game 5 of the 2017 World Series (and how I managed to be there)
It's been a week and a day since the Astros finally won the World Series. As amazing as that feat was, there's one aspect to it (that I finally got around to writing about) that makes this particularly amazing for me: the fact that my girlfriend and I were able to attend Game 5 - yes, that Game 5 - of the World Series.
For free.
Because we won tickets to the game.
Here's the story.
We knew that, with the Astros playing the weekend's games at home, the entire City of Houston would be crazy; my girlfriend Corinne and I wanted to be part of the madness, rather than watch the games by ourselves in our apartment, so we decided to go out.
Friday night we watched Game Three at my usual watering hole in Midtown. We were wondering where to watch the game on Saturday night, when a post appeared on our Facebook feed announcing that King's Bierhaus in the Heights was having a watch party and holding a drawing for two outfield bullpen tickets to Sunday night's game (it even made the local news). Decision made!
We didn't go because we thought we had any chance of actually winning World Series tickets, obviously. We went simply because we like the food, beer selection and atmosphere at King's Bierhaus, which opened earlier this year as the junior restaurant to King's Biergarten in Pearland and which serves a variety of Bavarian and Austrian specialties. It's quickly become a favorite place of ours to eat, but until now we had never thought of the Bierhaus as a sports-watching spot as well, and it sounded like fun.
So Saturday evening we went King's, which was predictably filled with hopeful Astros fans. (Being the Saturday before Halloween, it was also costume night for the staff.) We ordered our food (as well as a Munich-sized stein of Hofbräu Dunkel), found a place in the corner of the outdoor seating area where we had a good view of the televisions carrying the game, and ate our preztels, sausages, cabbage and wings. Our waiter brought us cards for us to fill out for the drawing, which we did. We watched the game, cheered along with the rest of the crowd, and generally enjoyed the evening.
Unfortunately, Game 4 did not end the way we would have liked, thanks to a late-game meltdown by the Astros bullpen. Houston fans were hoping that the Astros could sweep the Dodgers in Houston so as to avoid having to travel back to Los Angeles, but that wasn't meant to be. The Dodgers were simply too good of a team.
After the game was over, it was time for the drawing. Everybody in the restaurant crowded close to entrance, where the restaurant manager was to draw a card out of the bin and announce the winner of the tickets. Corinne remained at the table while I went inside to try to see what was going on and hear the manager call the winner's name, but it was pretty noisy and I simply didn't get close enough to hear what was going on. I didn't see or hear anybody screaming with joy because their name was called, but since I just knew it wasn't me or Corinne - we never win stuff like that - I turned around and began to walk back to our table in the corner of the outdoor seating area. I needed to finish my drink - maybe I could get the waiter to change the channel on one of the televisions to a college football game, if any were still on - and we needed to pay our tab and think about where to watch Sunday night's game.
That's when I noticed Corinne walking towards the front of the restaurant, accompanied by our waiter and a manager, with a rather shocked look on her face.
What happened? Was something wrong with her food?
As they drew closer, I heard the manager ask Corinne if she had her identification on her. Corinne responded that it was still in her purse at the table. Automatically figuring that it would not be a good idea to leave her purse unattended at the table, I walked back to the corner table and grabbed it to bring it to her. That's when I began to realize what was actually happening.
No way.
It turned out that her card was the one the manager had pulled out of the bin. He had called her name, but when nobody inside the restaurant responded - I obviously couldn't hear to respond on her behalf - he and our waiter (who had us write his name on our entry cards) came to the outdoor seating area to call for her. Corinne answered, the manager and waiter came over to the table to tell her that she was the lucky winner, and she, in a moment of complete astonishment, left her purse at the table as she got up to claim her prize.
Seriously. No way!
I made my way through the crowds to the front of the restaurant with Corinne's purse, and discovered her and the manager standing together while another employee took pictures and videos of them. Corinne would later tell me that she was certain she didn't look too enthused in the video simply because she was too stunned to process what had just happened.
Corinne showed the manager her identification so he could verify that she was indeed the person whose name was on the winning card. He got her contact information and told us that the owner would give us a call to discuss how to deliver our tickets to us.
NO. FREAKING. WAY.
We paid our bill and profusely thanked our waiter. I sent out a couple of stunned text messages to my friends: you're not going to believe this, but... We walked out of the restaurant, still in disbelief, past all the Astros faithful at the inside tables who neither got to see their team win nor got to win tickets to the next game, and it was then that a weird feeling - one I've never had before because I've never won anything before - hit me: winner's guilt.
These folks were wearing their Astros hats and their Astros shirts and their Astros scarves and their Astros boots and were waving their Astros pennants. They were cheering loudly throughout the entire game. They were probably regular attendees at regular season games, while our attendance at Astros games is, eh, much more sporadic (our limited sports budget is largely devoted to UH Cougar football and Dynamo soccer). Yet none of these bigtime Astros fans ended up with the tickets they came to King's Bierhaus in hopes of winning, while the actual winners turned out to be that middle-aged couple in the corner of the outside seating area who weren't even wearing any Astros gear...
ASTROS GEAR! I still had an old hat bearing the 2000-2012 logo and color scheme, but all my other Astros clothing had long since been retired and never replaced. I couldn't go to an Astros game - a World Series game - without an Astros shirt!
So we drove down TC Jester and made a stop at the Heights Wal-Mart (I'm not a big Wal-Mart shopper, but it will do in a pinch) to pick up some clothing. The stocker who walked by us while we were looking at t-shirts and polos said that we had to be die-hard Astros fans because we were buying clothing even though they had just lost. We chuckled; if he only knew the real reason why we were scrambling to buy clothes late on a Saturday night.
The shock had still not worn off by the time we got home. We won World Series tickets? Out of all the people at an event that made the local news, Corinne's card was the one that got pulled? How does that happen? We never win stuff like this! I put my head on the pillow. Maybe this is all a dream.
But it wasn't a dream. The owner, Philipp, called Corinne on Sunday morning to ask how we enjoyed the previous evening, to see how excited we were, and to discuss how to get the tickets to her. Shortly later, they appeared in her email and I printed them out. These were real MLB World Series tickets. This was actually happening.
Rather than trying to fight traffic and shell out money for jacked-up parking fees around Minute Maid Park, Corinne and I decided instead to take METRORail from my parents' house near the University of Houston. We needed to visit my dad anyway, as his birthday was that day and because he had just recently gotten home from the hospital, where he had been in for surgery (had he been in a bit better physical shape, he might actually have gone to the game in place of one of us). We drove over to my parents' house, and after visiting and watching the Texans play the Seahawks for a bit, bid my mom and dad farewell - they instructed us to scream loudly for them - and walked a few blocks to the train station at the edge of the UH campus. I purchased a couple of day passes on my METRO Q-ticketing app - I'm not a freeloader! - and before long, Corinne and I were on a Purple Line train full of other Astros fans headed to the stadium area.
The crowds were large, but moved fairly quickly. Our tickets were scanned, and we spent some time enjoying the pregame festivities along Crawford Street before finally going inside Minute Maid Park for the start of the game.
We eventually went inside the stadium, and found our seats, in right field behind the bullpen, right where King's advertised they'd be.
It was real. We were here. At a World Series Game.
That alone would have been memorable, a bucket list item, a story to tell grandkids I'll probably never have. But there was still a game to be played. Little did we know we were about to witness first-hand one of the most amazing games in the 114-year history of the World Series.
The weekend had already been an improbable one in terms of local sports. My heretofore struggling Houston Cougars had upset the #17-ranked South Florida Bulls in Tampa on the previous day, thanks to a third-string quarterback and an unreal conversion on 4th and 24. The Houston Texans, meanwhile, came very close to upsetting the Seahawks (and probably would have, had they had anything resembling a pass defense) in a crazy, back-and-forth game in Seattle. So I guess it should have been expected that the Astros were due for a barn-burner of a game as well (never mind that they already had one of them earlier this series).
It didn't start out awesome, of course. Astros ace pitcher Dallas Keuchel gave up three runs in the first inning; by the time the middle of the fourth inning arrived, the Astros were down 4-0 and Keuchel had been pulled from the mound. The Astros were in a big hole, and the Dodgers' star pitcher, Clayton Kershaw, was keeping the Astros bats silent. The crowd was beginning to get nervous. Nobody wanted this team to go back to Los Angeles facing elimination.
In the bottom of the fourth, the Astros finally broke through. Carlos Correa batted in the Astros' first run on a double. Yuli Gurriel was next up to bat, and he sent Kershaw's very next pitch into the Crawford Boxes. Given where we were sitting, we couldn't actually see the trajectory of the ball after Gurriel launched it until it actually landed. We didn't need to; the reaction of the Dodger outfielders - instead of running back towards the wall, they simply stood and watched in disgust - told us everything we needed to know. Three-run homer. Tie Game. Minute Maid erupted in celebration.
The celebration didn't last, however. Astros reliever Collin McHugh took over on the mound in the next inning but struggled, allowing Dodger batters to reach base. Then Cody Bellinger smacked a three-run homer of his own, and LA went back ahead by three runs. I got frustrated and decided to walk around the (very crowded) stadium to see what other concessions were available and to see the field from other vantage points:
I got back to my seat just in time to see LA's lead disappear. In the bottom of the 5th, Kershaw got two Astros hitters out but then walked two batters in a row and was replaced by reliever Kenta Maeda. José Altuve fought Maeda to a full count and then did this:
And our section did this:
(That's 3 [three!] three-run homers in an inning and a half of a World Series game, if you're counting.)
The top of every inning was agony, as Astros pitchers struggled to get strikes and outs. The Dodgers weren't able to score any runs in the sixth, but they did score a run in the 7th after George Springer misplayed a Cody Bellinger hit in the outfield and allowed Enrique Hernandez to reach home. However, Springer atoned for his mistake in the bottom of the seventh, hitting a solo home run onto the railroad tracks to tie the game up once again. Alex Bregman then got on base, and then José Altuve hit a double to get Bregman home, and then Carlos Correa did this:
Right after this, a streaker ran out onto the field and got arrested; it would have been kind of funny had it been an actual ecstatic, drunken fan, but as it turns out it was just some dickhead who goes around the country doing stunts like this to generate YouTube views. (He gets no links from me.)
The Dodgers scored a run in the top of the eighth to cut the Astros lead back to two runs, 11-9. But the Astros got that run back in the bottom of the eighth with a Brian McCann homer to right field; the ball landed a few sections over from us. The Astros were up by three with only three outs remaining, and the crowd was beginning to feel pretty good about the 'Stros getting out of there with a win and going back to Los Angeles needing only one more win to clinch their first-ever World Series.
Alas, the Dodgers were not going to go quietly. In the top of the ninth, they roughed up Astros reliever Chris Devenski; this time it was Yasiel Puig's turn to slam a two-run homer into the Crawford Boxes to cut the Astros lead to one. There was still a chance that the Astros would win; Chris Taylor came to the plate with two outs and was down to his last strike when he smacked in a run to tie the game, 12-12. Los Angeles was unable to score any additional runs to take the lead, however, and with the heart of the Astros' order coming to the plate in the bottom of the ninth, the fans were still hopeful that the team could win without having to go to extra innings.
However, the Dodgers also had a formidable weapon in the form of closing pitcher Kenley Jansen. He got Altuve and Correa out on a total of four pitches. He then surrendered a double to Yuli Gurriel, which brought the crowd to life - as loud as it was in our section, I can't imagine what the noise must have been like on the field - but then got Josh Reddick to fly out to end the inning.
Fans were clearly deflated. Corinne and I slumped back into our seats and prepared for extra innings. I looked at the clock on my phone. It was after midnight. How much longer would this thrilling yet agonizing game go on? The way these two teams were playing, we could be here all night. And how do we get home if the trains stop running?
Astros reliever Joe Musgrove made it through the top of the tenth without surrendering any more runs to the Dodgers. I went to the gift shop in the concourse behind my seat to get my father a birthday present - an Astros cap with a World Series logo - and returned in time for the bottom of the inning to start. I couldn't say that I was particularly optimistic that the Astros would be able to score any runs off a closer as good as Jansen, however.
Sure enough, Jansen got the first two Astros batters out. But then he threw a bad pitch that hit Brian McCann, sending him to first base. He subsequently walked George Springer. McCann moved to second, where Astros manager C.J. Hinch replaced him with speedy baserunner Derek Fisher.
Then Alex Bregman got up to the plate. And then this happened:
And in my section, this happened:
It's hard to describe the mix of ecstasy, exhaustion, relief, delirium and joy we all felt at that moment. Being at a World Series game because we won tickets was awesome enough. But being an in-person witness to the Astros winning one of the most amazing games in World Series history? A week and a half later, I still can't find the right words to describe the experience.
We eventually made our way out of Minute Maid Park, high-fiving people all the way. We walked through the jubilant crowds to the light rail station and got on a train back to campus (props to METRO for keeping the trains running after the game, even though it would normally have been after the end of service). Everybody on the train seemed to be feeling the same mix of "OMG I can't believe the Astros just won!" and "OMG what kind of baseball game did I just witness!" We got off the train in front of Moody Towers and made our way back to my parents' house; the couple walking behind us - I'm not sure if they lived in the neighborhood or had just parked there - began to talk about flying out to Los Angeles to see next Tuesday and Wednesday's games. Mom and dad were still awake when we got to their house, even though it was well after their normal bedtimes. But who could sleep after a game like that!?
We spent time excitedly yet hoarsely recounting the game - or trying to, at least - with my parents, who saw the whole thing on TV. Dad got his Birthday World Series Astros cap. Corinne and I finally made it back to our apartment around 2 in the morning. I was a little bit late to work the following day, with an explanation that must have sounded to my boss like the worker's equivalent of "the dog ate my homework." I didn't care; I was still hoarse and my ears were still ringing from the game the night before.
The Astros would, of course, eventually win their very first World Series in franchise history, getting past the formidable Dodgers in seven games. That alone is a wonderful feeling for a lifelong fan such as myself. But actually getting to be at one of the games, and getting to witness a wild, back-and-forth slugfest, all because my girlfriend improbably won tickets at a local German restaurant?
It's nothing short of magical.
Finally, a shameless plug for the reason we were able to attend the game: King's Bierhaus is located at 2044 East T. C. Jester, just south of Loop 610. Here is their menu. (For all you south-siders, the original King's Biergarten, at 1329 East Broadway near Pearland's border with Friendswood, has a somewhat more extensive menu.) A special thanks to Hans and Philipp Sitter, as well as the wonderful staffs at both their Heights and Pearland restaurants, for making this amazing memory possible.
They also do drawings for trips to Munich during Oktoberfest.
Hmm... Maybe lightning will strike twice.
For free.
Because we won tickets to the game.
Here's the story.
We knew that, with the Astros playing the weekend's games at home, the entire City of Houston would be crazy; my girlfriend Corinne and I wanted to be part of the madness, rather than watch the games by ourselves in our apartment, so we decided to go out.
Friday night we watched Game Three at my usual watering hole in Midtown. We were wondering where to watch the game on Saturday night, when a post appeared on our Facebook feed announcing that King's Bierhaus in the Heights was having a watch party and holding a drawing for two outfield bullpen tickets to Sunday night's game (it even made the local news). Decision made!
We didn't go because we thought we had any chance of actually winning World Series tickets, obviously. We went simply because we like the food, beer selection and atmosphere at King's Bierhaus, which opened earlier this year as the junior restaurant to King's Biergarten in Pearland and which serves a variety of Bavarian and Austrian specialties. It's quickly become a favorite place of ours to eat, but until now we had never thought of the Bierhaus as a sports-watching spot as well, and it sounded like fun.
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| Bier and baseball! |
Unfortunately, Game 4 did not end the way we would have liked, thanks to a late-game meltdown by the Astros bullpen. Houston fans were hoping that the Astros could sweep the Dodgers in Houston so as to avoid having to travel back to Los Angeles, but that wasn't meant to be. The Dodgers were simply too good of a team.
After the game was over, it was time for the drawing. Everybody in the restaurant crowded close to entrance, where the restaurant manager was to draw a card out of the bin and announce the winner of the tickets. Corinne remained at the table while I went inside to try to see what was going on and hear the manager call the winner's name, but it was pretty noisy and I simply didn't get close enough to hear what was going on. I didn't see or hear anybody screaming with joy because their name was called, but since I just knew it wasn't me or Corinne - we never win stuff like that - I turned around and began to walk back to our table in the corner of the outdoor seating area. I needed to finish my drink - maybe I could get the waiter to change the channel on one of the televisions to a college football game, if any were still on - and we needed to pay our tab and think about where to watch Sunday night's game.
That's when I noticed Corinne walking towards the front of the restaurant, accompanied by our waiter and a manager, with a rather shocked look on her face.
What happened? Was something wrong with her food?
As they drew closer, I heard the manager ask Corinne if she had her identification on her. Corinne responded that it was still in her purse at the table. Automatically figuring that it would not be a good idea to leave her purse unattended at the table, I walked back to the corner table and grabbed it to bring it to her. That's when I began to realize what was actually happening.
No way.
It turned out that her card was the one the manager had pulled out of the bin. He had called her name, but when nobody inside the restaurant responded - I obviously couldn't hear to respond on her behalf - he and our waiter (who had us write his name on our entry cards) came to the outdoor seating area to call for her. Corinne answered, the manager and waiter came over to the table to tell her that she was the lucky winner, and she, in a moment of complete astonishment, left her purse at the table as she got up to claim her prize.
Seriously. No way!
I made my way through the crowds to the front of the restaurant with Corinne's purse, and discovered her and the manager standing together while another employee took pictures and videos of them. Corinne would later tell me that she was certain she didn't look too enthused in the video simply because she was too stunned to process what had just happened.
Corinne showed the manager her identification so he could verify that she was indeed the person whose name was on the winning card. He got her contact information and told us that the owner would give us a call to discuss how to deliver our tickets to us.
NO. FREAKING. WAY.
We paid our bill and profusely thanked our waiter. I sent out a couple of stunned text messages to my friends: you're not going to believe this, but... We walked out of the restaurant, still in disbelief, past all the Astros faithful at the inside tables who neither got to see their team win nor got to win tickets to the next game, and it was then that a weird feeling - one I've never had before because I've never won anything before - hit me: winner's guilt.
These folks were wearing their Astros hats and their Astros shirts and their Astros scarves and their Astros boots and were waving their Astros pennants. They were cheering loudly throughout the entire game. They were probably regular attendees at regular season games, while our attendance at Astros games is, eh, much more sporadic (our limited sports budget is largely devoted to UH Cougar football and Dynamo soccer). Yet none of these bigtime Astros fans ended up with the tickets they came to King's Bierhaus in hopes of winning, while the actual winners turned out to be that middle-aged couple in the corner of the outside seating area who weren't even wearing any Astros gear...
ASTROS GEAR! I still had an old hat bearing the 2000-2012 logo and color scheme, but all my other Astros clothing had long since been retired and never replaced. I couldn't go to an Astros game - a World Series game - without an Astros shirt!
So we drove down TC Jester and made a stop at the Heights Wal-Mart (I'm not a big Wal-Mart shopper, but it will do in a pinch) to pick up some clothing. The stocker who walked by us while we were looking at t-shirts and polos said that we had to be die-hard Astros fans because we were buying clothing even though they had just lost. We chuckled; if he only knew the real reason why we were scrambling to buy clothes late on a Saturday night.
The shock had still not worn off by the time we got home. We won World Series tickets? Out of all the people at an event that made the local news, Corinne's card was the one that got pulled? How does that happen? We never win stuff like this! I put my head on the pillow. Maybe this is all a dream.
But it wasn't a dream. The owner, Philipp, called Corinne on Sunday morning to ask how we enjoyed the previous evening, to see how excited we were, and to discuss how to get the tickets to her. Shortly later, they appeared in her email and I printed them out. These were real MLB World Series tickets. This was actually happening.
Rather than trying to fight traffic and shell out money for jacked-up parking fees around Minute Maid Park, Corinne and I decided instead to take METRORail from my parents' house near the University of Houston. We needed to visit my dad anyway, as his birthday was that day and because he had just recently gotten home from the hospital, where he had been in for surgery (had he been in a bit better physical shape, he might actually have gone to the game in place of one of us). We drove over to my parents' house, and after visiting and watching the Texans play the Seahawks for a bit, bid my mom and dad farewell - they instructed us to scream loudly for them - and walked a few blocks to the train station at the edge of the UH campus. I purchased a couple of day passes on my METRO Q-ticketing app - I'm not a freeloader! - and before long, Corinne and I were on a Purple Line train full of other Astros fans headed to the stadium area.
The crowds were large, but moved fairly quickly. Our tickets were scanned, and we spent some time enjoying the pregame festivities along Crawford Street before finally going inside Minute Maid Park for the start of the game.
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| Astros faithful wait to get into the stadium. Astros management did an excellent job moving the crowds fairly quickly. |
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| Paul Wall entertains the crowd outside the stadium before the game. |
It was real. We were here. At a World Series Game.
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| If you had told me where I'd be twenty-four hours before this picture was taken... |
The weekend had already been an improbable one in terms of local sports. My heretofore struggling Houston Cougars had upset the #17-ranked South Florida Bulls in Tampa on the previous day, thanks to a third-string quarterback and an unreal conversion on 4th and 24. The Houston Texans, meanwhile, came very close to upsetting the Seahawks (and probably would have, had they had anything resembling a pass defense) in a crazy, back-and-forth game in Seattle. So I guess it should have been expected that the Astros were due for a barn-burner of a game as well (never mind that they already had one of them earlier this series).
It didn't start out awesome, of course. Astros ace pitcher Dallas Keuchel gave up three runs in the first inning; by the time the middle of the fourth inning arrived, the Astros were down 4-0 and Keuchel had been pulled from the mound. The Astros were in a big hole, and the Dodgers' star pitcher, Clayton Kershaw, was keeping the Astros bats silent. The crowd was beginning to get nervous. Nobody wanted this team to go back to Los Angeles facing elimination.
In the bottom of the fourth, the Astros finally broke through. Carlos Correa batted in the Astros' first run on a double. Yuli Gurriel was next up to bat, and he sent Kershaw's very next pitch into the Crawford Boxes. Given where we were sitting, we couldn't actually see the trajectory of the ball after Gurriel launched it until it actually landed. We didn't need to; the reaction of the Dodger outfielders - instead of running back towards the wall, they simply stood and watched in disgust - told us everything we needed to know. Three-run homer. Tie Game. Minute Maid erupted in celebration.
The celebration didn't last, however. Astros reliever Collin McHugh took over on the mound in the next inning but struggled, allowing Dodger batters to reach base. Then Cody Bellinger smacked a three-run homer of his own, and LA went back ahead by three runs. I got frustrated and decided to walk around the (very crowded) stadium to see what other concessions were available and to see the field from other vantage points:
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| The view from behind the Crawford Boxes. A standing-room-only crowd of 43,300 was on hand for this game. |
And our section did this:
(That's 3 [three!] three-run homers in an inning and a half of a World Series game, if you're counting.)
The top of every inning was agony, as Astros pitchers struggled to get strikes and outs. The Dodgers weren't able to score any runs in the sixth, but they did score a run in the 7th after George Springer misplayed a Cody Bellinger hit in the outfield and allowed Enrique Hernandez to reach home. However, Springer atoned for his mistake in the bottom of the seventh, hitting a solo home run onto the railroad tracks to tie the game up once again. Alex Bregman then got on base, and then José Altuve hit a double to get Bregman home, and then Carlos Correa did this:
Right after this, a streaker ran out onto the field and got arrested; it would have been kind of funny had it been an actual ecstatic, drunken fan, but as it turns out it was just some dickhead who goes around the country doing stunts like this to generate YouTube views. (He gets no links from me.)
The Dodgers scored a run in the top of the eighth to cut the Astros lead back to two runs, 11-9. But the Astros got that run back in the bottom of the eighth with a Brian McCann homer to right field; the ball landed a few sections over from us. The Astros were up by three with only three outs remaining, and the crowd was beginning to feel pretty good about the 'Stros getting out of there with a win and going back to Los Angeles needing only one more win to clinch their first-ever World Series.
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| It's the bottom of the eighth and fans in my section were ready to go home with a win. The Dodgers had other plans. |
However, the Dodgers also had a formidable weapon in the form of closing pitcher Kenley Jansen. He got Altuve and Correa out on a total of four pitches. He then surrendered a double to Yuli Gurriel, which brought the crowd to life - as loud as it was in our section, I can't imagine what the noise must have been like on the field - but then got Josh Reddick to fly out to end the inning.
Fans were clearly deflated. Corinne and I slumped back into our seats and prepared for extra innings. I looked at the clock on my phone. It was after midnight. How much longer would this thrilling yet agonizing game go on? The way these two teams were playing, we could be here all night. And how do we get home if the trains stop running?
Astros reliever Joe Musgrove made it through the top of the tenth without surrendering any more runs to the Dodgers. I went to the gift shop in the concourse behind my seat to get my father a birthday present - an Astros cap with a World Series logo - and returned in time for the bottom of the inning to start. I couldn't say that I was particularly optimistic that the Astros would be able to score any runs off a closer as good as Jansen, however.
Sure enough, Jansen got the first two Astros batters out. But then he threw a bad pitch that hit Brian McCann, sending him to first base. He subsequently walked George Springer. McCann moved to second, where Astros manager C.J. Hinch replaced him with speedy baserunner Derek Fisher.
Then Alex Bregman got up to the plate. And then this happened:
And in my section, this happened:
It's hard to describe the mix of ecstasy, exhaustion, relief, delirium and joy we all felt at that moment. Being at a World Series game because we won tickets was awesome enough. But being an in-person witness to the Astros winning one of the most amazing games in World Series history? A week and a half later, I still can't find the right words to describe the experience.
We eventually made our way out of Minute Maid Park, high-fiving people all the way. We walked through the jubilant crowds to the light rail station and got on a train back to campus (props to METRO for keeping the trains running after the game, even though it would normally have been after the end of service). Everybody on the train seemed to be feeling the same mix of "OMG I can't believe the Astros just won!" and "OMG what kind of baseball game did I just witness!" We got off the train in front of Moody Towers and made our way back to my parents' house; the couple walking behind us - I'm not sure if they lived in the neighborhood or had just parked there - began to talk about flying out to Los Angeles to see next Tuesday and Wednesday's games. Mom and dad were still awake when we got to their house, even though it was well after their normal bedtimes. But who could sleep after a game like that!?
We spent time excitedly yet hoarsely recounting the game - or trying to, at least - with my parents, who saw the whole thing on TV. Dad got his Birthday World Series Astros cap. Corinne and I finally made it back to our apartment around 2 in the morning. I was a little bit late to work the following day, with an explanation that must have sounded to my boss like the worker's equivalent of "the dog ate my homework." I didn't care; I was still hoarse and my ears were still ringing from the game the night before.
The Astros would, of course, eventually win their very first World Series in franchise history, getting past the formidable Dodgers in seven games. That alone is a wonderful feeling for a lifelong fan such as myself. But actually getting to be at one of the games, and getting to witness a wild, back-and-forth slugfest, all because my girlfriend improbably won tickets at a local German restaurant?
It's nothing short of magical.
Finally, a shameless plug for the reason we were able to attend the game: King's Bierhaus is located at 2044 East T. C. Jester, just south of Loop 610. Here is their menu. (For all you south-siders, the original King's Biergarten, at 1329 East Broadway near Pearland's border with Friendswood, has a somewhat more extensive menu.) A special thanks to Hans and Philipp Sitter, as well as the wonderful staffs at both their Heights and Pearland restaurants, for making this amazing memory possible.
They also do drawings for trips to Munich during Oktoberfest.
Hmm... Maybe lightning will strike twice.
The Heights is no longer dry
Over the course of two election cycles, a century-old local example of the state's screwy liquor laws has finally gone by the wayside:
The alcohol prohibition in the Heights dated back to 1912 and remained in place after the town was merged into the City of Houston two years later. Houstonia has more.
With 2 successful ballot initiatives in successive years, the rules that for more than 100 years restricted alcohol sales within the portion of the Houston Heights that was once a separate city have now been whittled down to a single prohibition: Grocery and convenience stores in the area are still not allowed to sell liquor.I don't think grocery and convenience stores anywhere in the State of Texas are allowed to sell liquor, actually, so there's nothing special about that. The Heights is now just as wet as the rest of Houston.
In yesterday’s election, 1,479 Heights residents voted in favor of allowing the sales of mixed drinks in the district — in effect ending the quirky gotta-join-a-club loophole run through by alcohol-serving restaurants. 960 voted against.I've yet to order a mixed drink in a Heights bar, but having dealt with the "private club" regulations when I lived in north Texas - they were absolutely ridiculous and didn't stop anybody from getting drunk - I know bar owners and patrons are glad to see them go.
The alcohol prohibition in the Heights dated back to 1912 and remained in place after the town was merged into the City of Houston two years later. Houstonia has more.
Tuesday, November 07, 2017
Houston Press ends print publication
The latest victim of print media's slow-but-steady death spiral is the local alt-weekly:
As a long-time reader of the Press, this really isn't a surprise to me. The print edition of the Houston Press had steadily been becoming thinner over the years: fewer stories, fewer restaurant, theater and art reviews, and (most importantly) fewer revenue-producing advertisements. It had been awhile since I had even picked up a paper edition of the Press.
It remains to be seen if the Press can continue as an online-only operation for the long haul, given the current state of the digital advertising market. It's hard for publications to sustain themselves on digital advertising alone, especially since so much of it is consumed by just two companies. I'll be rooting for the continued survival of the online-only Press, because locally-focused journalism is both critical and severely threatened. But, sadly, I can't say I'm optimistic.
The publisher's official explanation for the move is here. Kuff and Jeff Balke have some thoughts of their own.
Print is dead. Long live digital. Long live the Houston Press. In dot com form.
As of today and going forward, there will be no more print copies of the Houston Press. We’ll be online-only at houstonpress.com, a business decision brought about by declining advertising revenues seen throughout the print newspaper industry and more specifically for us, the mini recession caused by the downturn in the oil and gas industry that did nothing good for the Houston economy.
And then, of course, there was Hurricane Harvey. That was the topper. The massive flooding destruction it caused appeared to directly target restaurants and the arts community – some of our biggest advertisers – who faced with declining revenues of their own found they had other, more pressing expenses to consider.In addition to scrapping its paper publication, the Press also laid off its entire editorial staff, with the exception of Editor-in-Chief Margaret Downing (who wrote the article linked and excerpted above.)
As a long-time reader of the Press, this really isn't a surprise to me. The print edition of the Houston Press had steadily been becoming thinner over the years: fewer stories, fewer restaurant, theater and art reviews, and (most importantly) fewer revenue-producing advertisements. It had been awhile since I had even picked up a paper edition of the Press.
It remains to be seen if the Press can continue as an online-only operation for the long haul, given the current state of the digital advertising market. It's hard for publications to sustain themselves on digital advertising alone, especially since so much of it is consumed by just two companies. I'll be rooting for the continued survival of the online-only Press, because locally-focused journalism is both critical and severely threatened. But, sadly, I can't say I'm optimistic.
The publisher's official explanation for the move is here. Kuff and Jeff Balke have some thoughts of their own.
Sunday, November 05, 2017
Houston 52, East Carolina 27
The Cougars gain bowl eligibility with a win over the Purple Pirates of East Carolina yesterday.
The Good: It was D'Eriq King's first ever start at quarterback, and he proved that he deserved the start by completing 15 of 21 passes for 330 yards, two touchdowns and no interceptions. He also rushed for a touchdown. The Cougar ground game added another 142 yards; RBs Duke Catalon and Mulbah Car both had rushing touchdowns. East Carolina turned the ball over three times (one of which resulted in a pick six for the Coogs) and missed a field goal. The Cougar defense held the Pirates to only 36 rushing yards.
The Bad: As bad as ECU's secondary was, UH's pass defense wasn't much better. The Pirates scorched the Cougar defense for 468 passing yards and three touchdowns, and outscored the Coogs 17-7 at one point during the second and third quarters. Although the Cougars were able to end the game against a lesser opponent, their playcalling left a lot of people scratching their heads at times. I'm not impressed with either of HC Major Applewhite's coordinators at this point; some changes probably need to be made after the season is over.
The Ugly: Gonna go with John Royal, whose dispatch from TDECU for the Houston Press may have been his last:
I know that the league and the networks dictate kickoff times. And, arguments about global warming aside, Saturday's brutal weather was unseasonable and unexpected. But an 11 am kickoff kept a lot of fans at home, devastated UH's normally-robust tailgating culture, and doubtlessly ruined the homecoming festivities a lot of colleges and alumni groups wanted to have. UH administration needs to use whatever power they have to push back against 11 am kickoff times in the future. They might work for the Big 10 or ACC, but they just don't work for Houston.
What It Means: The Cougars secure a winning season (they play only 11 games due to the fact that the UTSA game was canceled) and bowl eligibility with the win.
They get next Saturday off before they make a road trip to play Tulane. Because I can rarely turn down a opportunity to travel to New Orleans, I'll be there.
The Good: It was D'Eriq King's first ever start at quarterback, and he proved that he deserved the start by completing 15 of 21 passes for 330 yards, two touchdowns and no interceptions. He also rushed for a touchdown. The Cougar ground game added another 142 yards; RBs Duke Catalon and Mulbah Car both had rushing touchdowns. East Carolina turned the ball over three times (one of which resulted in a pick six for the Coogs) and missed a field goal. The Cougar defense held the Pirates to only 36 rushing yards.
The Bad: As bad as ECU's secondary was, UH's pass defense wasn't much better. The Pirates scorched the Cougar defense for 468 passing yards and three touchdowns, and outscored the Coogs 17-7 at one point during the second and third quarters. Although the Cougars were able to end the game against a lesser opponent, their playcalling left a lot of people scratching their heads at times. I'm not impressed with either of HC Major Applewhite's coordinators at this point; some changes probably need to be made after the season is over.
The Ugly: Gonna go with John Royal, whose dispatch from TDECU for the Houston Press may have been his last:
TDECU Stadium was far from packed, and it is evident that the enthusiasm the Tom Herman-era Cougars generated among UH fans and Houstonians has dissipated. By the end of the game, the stands across from the press box, from the lower level up to the upper deck were nearly empty. The weather was hot and humid, and the team has not been very exciting, so that may have worked against attendance, but a bowl-bound UH football team should still be able to generate some level of excitement.The conditions in the stands were hot, humid and brutal, and the announced attendance of 29,810 was probably twice the amount of actual people in the stands for this game. A lot of people who had tickets for this game simply stayed home.
I know that the league and the networks dictate kickoff times. And, arguments about global warming aside, Saturday's brutal weather was unseasonable and unexpected. But an 11 am kickoff kept a lot of fans at home, devastated UH's normally-robust tailgating culture, and doubtlessly ruined the homecoming festivities a lot of colleges and alumni groups wanted to have. UH administration needs to use whatever power they have to push back against 11 am kickoff times in the future. They might work for the Big 10 or ACC, but they just don't work for Houston.
What It Means: The Cougars secure a winning season (they play only 11 games due to the fact that the UTSA game was canceled) and bowl eligibility with the win.
They get next Saturday off before they make a road trip to play Tulane. Because I can rarely turn down a opportunity to travel to New Orleans, I'll be there.
Astros win 2017 World Series
They earned it! (And Sports Illustrated was right!)
Not only did the Astros clinch their first championship in the franchise's 56-year history, but they also:
As a lifelong Astros fan, I gotta say that this really feels a bit surreal (especially since they won it all just a year after I predicted that I would never see the Astros win a World Series in my lifetime). I'm old enough to vaguely remember the 1980 team that twice came within six outs of going to the World Series, only to be topped by the Phillies. I clearly remember watching Kevin Bass strike out against the Mets in the bottom of the 16th inning in game six of the 1986 NLCS (and I clearly remember myself crying like a baby afterward). I saw all those great "Killer Bs" teams of the late 90s and early aughts win NL Central titles and promptly get dispatched by Atlanta in the first round of the playoffs. I saw the Astros finally break through in 2005, only to get swept by the White Sox (my brother and I watched those games over breakfast while I visited him in Japan). I remember this team losing 111 games just four seasons ago (turns out, that was all part of the plan). I remember Nolan Ryan and Alan Ashby and Jose Cruz and Mike Scott and Glenn Davis and Billy Hatcher and Roy Oswalt and Lance Berkman and Craig Biggio and Jeff Bagwell and all the other Astro greats who were so good but who never won the whole thing.
Until now.
This is such a joyous moment, not just for the players, but also for their long-suffering fans like me, or for other lifelong Astros fans (such as my 95-year-old aunt or 76-year-old father, who finally got to see their team "win it all"), or for all those Houstonians in need of a morale boost in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. Harvey might have made the Astros a sentimental favorite to win the World Series, but the Astros weren't entitled to a World Series title any more than New York was entitled to a championship after 9/11 (the Yankees lost to the Diamondbacks in the 2001 series). They had to earn it. They did.
Granted: this Astros victory will not pay anybody's rent, or find anybody a job, or magically clean up all the damage from Hurricane Harvey. Therein lies the fundamental absurdity to spectator sports: why do we invest so much of our emotion and so much of our identity in the successes and failures of a bunch of highly-paid athletes, none of whom (save for pitcher Will Harris) are actually from Houston? When those players put on those jerseys that just happen to have the name of our city embroidered upon them, they somehow become "ours." Those players represent us, and they become the guardians of our hopes.
It's weird. It's (quite frankly) illogical. But it's what happens, and it's magical. They won, which means "Houston" won, and it makes us happy and proud and creates a common sense of community. Especially for a city that, Other than the 1994 and 1995 Rockets (and, to be fair, the 2006 and 2007 Dynamo), simply doesn't have a long list of championship teams as compared to some other cities.
The World Series is a tradition that is 114 years old. This year, the Houston Astros finally added their name to that tradition.
And I could not be happier that they finally did.
Not only did the Astros clinch their first championship in the franchise's 56-year history, but they also:
- Became the only team in Major League Baseball to win a pennant in both leagues (even though I'm still not a fan of their move to the AL, I think the fact that the Astros can now claim league championships in both leagues is cool).
- Beat the two teams I hate the most, the Red Sox and the Yankees, in order to get there.
- Did it in a seven-game series that will be remembered as one of the best World Series in the history, featuring two of the craziest and most thrilling World Series games ever played (and my girlfriend and I were, rather improbably, in attendance for Game 5 - more about that in an upcoming post).
As a lifelong Astros fan, I gotta say that this really feels a bit surreal (especially since they won it all just a year after I predicted that I would never see the Astros win a World Series in my lifetime). I'm old enough to vaguely remember the 1980 team that twice came within six outs of going to the World Series, only to be topped by the Phillies. I clearly remember watching Kevin Bass strike out against the Mets in the bottom of the 16th inning in game six of the 1986 NLCS (and I clearly remember myself crying like a baby afterward). I saw all those great "Killer Bs" teams of the late 90s and early aughts win NL Central titles and promptly get dispatched by Atlanta in the first round of the playoffs. I saw the Astros finally break through in 2005, only to get swept by the White Sox (my brother and I watched those games over breakfast while I visited him in Japan). I remember this team losing 111 games just four seasons ago (turns out, that was all part of the plan). I remember Nolan Ryan and Alan Ashby and Jose Cruz and Mike Scott and Glenn Davis and Billy Hatcher and Roy Oswalt and Lance Berkman and Craig Biggio and Jeff Bagwell and all the other Astro greats who were so good but who never won the whole thing.
Until now.
This is such a joyous moment, not just for the players, but also for their long-suffering fans like me, or for other lifelong Astros fans (such as my 95-year-old aunt or 76-year-old father, who finally got to see their team "win it all"), or for all those Houstonians in need of a morale boost in the wake of Hurricane Harvey. Harvey might have made the Astros a sentimental favorite to win the World Series, but the Astros weren't entitled to a World Series title any more than New York was entitled to a championship after 9/11 (the Yankees lost to the Diamondbacks in the 2001 series). They had to earn it. They did.
Granted: this Astros victory will not pay anybody's rent, or find anybody a job, or magically clean up all the damage from Hurricane Harvey. Therein lies the fundamental absurdity to spectator sports: why do we invest so much of our emotion and so much of our identity in the successes and failures of a bunch of highly-paid athletes, none of whom (save for pitcher Will Harris) are actually from Houston? When those players put on those jerseys that just happen to have the name of our city embroidered upon them, they somehow become "ours." Those players represent us, and they become the guardians of our hopes.
It's weird. It's (quite frankly) illogical. But it's what happens, and it's magical. They won, which means "Houston" won, and it makes us happy and proud and creates a common sense of community. Especially for a city that, Other than the 1994 and 1995 Rockets (and, to be fair, the 2006 and 2007 Dynamo), simply doesn't have a long list of championship teams as compared to some other cities.
The World Series is a tradition that is 114 years old. This year, the Houston Astros finally added their name to that tradition.
And I could not be happier that they finally did.