How the Houston Astros Helped Me Weather Hurricane Ike's Eerie Aftermath

I never thought I would wake up to a day when the fourth-largest city in the United States didn't work.

I, along with five million other Gulf Coast residents, lived that day on Saturday morning. The storm turned eastward before slamming Galveston Island and the Houston area, sparing the catastrophe that was originally predicted.

Ike was a category two, but in the hearts of those affected here, I can assure you that it was a category 100. I have always known Houston as the vast metropolis that always has something working. It seemed like everything changed Saturday morning after the storm's worst had passed.

I am living with my mother and step-dad for a few months while I pursue teacher certification, and I work for a community newspaper. Our house received sustained winds of at least 102 miles per hour for at least five hours. We were spared, but our neighbors were not so lucky.

I am using free wireless Internet at an area Hooters, as we have no idea when our power will be restored. God bless Hooters?

Eerie is the best word I can use to describe the last three to four days. From a shaking house and freight-train-level noise to silence, desperation, and confusion. Houston is not the Houston I know, and that's a problem.

That's why hearing the Houston Astros on a staticy AM station has made things seem normal again. My favorite baseball team was flown away to a hostile stadium in Milwaukee, where a supposed "home game" was really a ploy to get Chicago Cubs fans to buy tickets.

This was a revenue decision and Drayton McClane and Bud Selig should be dragged through mud for that later. This is not the time.

I am sick of hearing the words "Michael Chertoff" and "Mayor Bill White." The circular stories of long lines at gas pumps, downed trees complicating power restoration, and frustrated residents are sickening me, too.

Even if Carlos Zambrano pitched the 11th no-hitter in Cubs history and shutout my team, in the hunt for the National League wild card, they still played. I heard "Lance Berkman" and "Brad Ausmus." I know those names. They are part of Houston's fabric.

Yes, they played two virtual road games and likely tossed any chance of catching the freefalling Brewers or Philadelphia Phillies for the wild card. I don't care right now.

As I listened to the surging Astros crash into skyscraper-high speed bumps Sunday and Monday nights on Houston's AM 790, "the Sports Animal," I re-experienced normality.

The storm's aftermath has me down. I think of the Galveston, Bolivar Peninsula and other coastal folks who will return to homes that are either fatally damaged or no longer exist.

My mouth still falls open when I see images of the Interstate 45 causeway that links to Galveston Island lined with wrecked boats and home debris.

These are the days when I appreciate life's little gifts. A breeze feels like winning the lottery and a good night's sleep is a godsend.

The Astros, even if we are talking baseball after a ruthless hurricane, fit into the recovery, too. The team still has a chance at the miracle that will get this city going again.

The team will look to pitching ace Roy Oswalt to start the deslump process. Deslump is probably not a real word, but I do not have the time for verification.

That the Astros lost two games in a row and I'm calling it a slump says something about their great second-half run.

That the Astros own baseball's best record since the All-Star break, with just 18 losses since that time, says a lot. They had won 14 of 15 and looked like a living miracle on a baseball field.

Carlos Lee slugged a torrid July and early August and then ended his season with pinky surgery. Ty Wigginton, whose non-existent production I had been dogging from opening day, soared. When he landed on the DL, Darin Erstad filled his shoes.

This baseball team has not given up, the two blowout losses notwithstanding, and that will help Houston heal from a storm it has not seen in several decades.

The above picture, courtesy of the Houston Chronicle, shows Galveston's Crystal Beach before and after Ike. 

Tropical Storm Allison flooded parking garages and briefly marred power service to hundreds of thousands of customers in the early 2000s. This is much worse. You can see Ike's trail of devastation in the eyes of every resident you see.

People need ice, tempers are flaring, gas supply is dangerously low, and a lot of people want to know when they will have power again.

The Astros soothed me just by playing baseball. The Astros are normal for Houston. Normal is good. Houstonians need that right now.

So, when do the boys play again? Win or lose, the people that can will be listening, and it will warm their torn hearts.