Angela, don't read this!
Sunday, I had tickets (which were a birthday gift from my cousin in San Diego) to the Astros vs Padres game.
The seats were amazing. We were so close to the on deck circle, I could examine the fabric of the players' jerseys.
We were happy little suckers until our starting pitcher, Jason Jennings, gave up 11 runs in the first inning.
It was a first for me. I had never seen a team score 11 runs in one inning and I had never seen a pitcher pulled after 2/3rds of an inning sans injury.
I sat in stunned silence. Could this really be happening? I haven't even had my freakin Cracker Jacks and already we were 11-0!
In my silence, I was in the minority. Most of the other fans were booing Jennings off the mound.
It was painful to watch.
Like I've mentioned before, I'm a freaking girl. I get emotional and I wanted to cry for this dude. How nightmarish must it be to stand there in the middle of a baseball diamond, falling apart at the seams while your hometown fans boo you so viciously?
Amazingly, we came back and ended up scoring 11 runs but the Padres stayed one (or more) steps ahead of us and we lost it 18-11.
But that first inning...wow. It's all anyone could talk about for days.
It was like this huge dark cloud hanging over Jennings' head.
Then last night in extra innings against the Braves, when we were nearly out of pinch hitters and relief pitchers, Jason Jennings comes in to pinch hit for Mark McLemore and drives in the winning run.
Does this put Jennings back into the good graces of the Houston fans? I doubt it but for a brief moment he knows what it feels like to be a game hero.
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