Astro-nomically Bad

Boy, did Oswalt fail me. That fifth inning was brutal.

The 'Stros had numerous chances to win it in the last few frames, they just didn't get it done. And this doesn't strike me as a series waiting to unleash a miracle on us. The Astros spent much of yesterday complaining about the league's decision to force them to keep the roof of the stadium open (thus lessening the roar of the crowd), which doesn't seem like the preoccupation of a group focused on getting back into a series. Oh, well. My goal tonight is to forget there's a game on, anyway. I can't be staying up until 2 a.m. to watch two teams I care nothing about. I'm going to go home, watch The Sting, maybe read a bit for work, and see if a good night's sleep will fight off this touch of illness I've been feeling.

(Oh, lord. I'm already writing about my minor maladies and sleeping habits. I promise this blog won't sink completely into navel-gazing for at least another couple of months or so. Stick with me, people.)