Oakland Athletics @ Houston Astros Series Preview
May 18-20 2015
Minute Maid Park at Union Station
Houston, Texas, United States of America, North America, Earth, 29.7569° N, 95.3556° W
HOUSTON (AP) -
Jeff Luhnow is used to looking up. Looking up to see his competitors in the standings. Looking up to pray for divine intervention. Looking up home remedies for duodenal ulcers. After three years in the basement, the Astros GM had, literally, nothing beneath him.
But things changed this year, and it’s not just the play on the field that has things looking…better.
When the Mexico City native signed on as the Astros’ General Manager, he left a cushy front office gig high atop one of baseball’s premier organizations. He was the Smartest Guy in the Room amongst a crosseyed and drooling cadre of transplant Missourian…ites (eers? akhans?) But Houston came a’calling and boom – he’s the new General Manager of a decaying MLB team with no prospects and shaky ownership. Life was good, though.
Until it wasn’t. The first missive Astros owner Jim Crane – his new boss – gave him was simple: Everything Must Go.
“I remember that conversation well,” Luhnow says now, scratching his temple. “I knew we had to gut the team to produce a consistent winner – to rebuild the farm system. Get rid of hometown-hero veterans. But I didn’t realize how far [Jim] wanted to go with that.”
“It was fucking mayhem.”
Recent MLB callup Lance McCullers (and Luhnow draftee) remembers it well. “It was crazy, you know. Like last year I was in Lancaster – I had like a 5.47 ERA and I never ever ever faced the Oakland A’s. But now, you know, I feel like I could hold them to one run in close to five innings. Maybe scatter three hits and three walks amongst five strikeouts or so. We’d probably lose 2-1, but that’s the kind of change we’re seeing this year. And it’s all because Jeff’s got a real office this year. I mean – dude shouldn’t be all tripping out or whatever young people say in the basement, you know?”
Jeff Luhnow arrived to his new job, Day 1, ready to conquer the world. What he found was a nation stripped to rubble.
“There were desks, pushed off to the corners,” Luhnow remembers. “Trash cans on fire, sticky notes fucking everywhere. The 5th floor had some sort of computer monitor bonfire thing going on. The 4th [floor] seemed to be dividing into astrological factions. I couldn’t remember if I was an Aries or Leo.”
The days and months and years following the Crane coup are well-documented at this point, but Luhnow has seen it all – and seen too much – to forget.
“I spent two months in the fax mines – two fucking months – and I’d had enough. I scored an old dial-up modem from Accounting and holed up in the corner of the women’s shower where nobody would find me. Opened a window and started working. Sig [Mejdal] was there. He brought extra beef jerky.”
“I heard the stories, sure,” Astros starter Roberto Hernandez (nee Carmona) says. “I mean I’ve been everywhere, seen everything. Like Cleveland and Philly and LA. But I’ve got my ERA down to 4.12 and I should be able to at least, you know, not lose too badly against Sonny Gray [4-1, 1.61 ERA]. That shit Jeff went through, though, that shit was nasty.”
“I’d spend hours, maybe days, just staring at the ceiling,” Luhnow ponders. “It was pristine. I mean, is there a single woman on God’s blue earth who’s taken a shower at Minute Maid Park? One? The fucking thing was untouched – exactly as Its Creator designed it. I may be going out on a limb here, probably not, but I swear all of life’s answers are embedded in the code of each those little plaster popcorn bits that hang like stalactites in the Houston Astros’ women’s shower.”
But all of life’s answers weren’t good enough for Jeff Luhnow, General Manager. He ascribed petty titles to his minions to hide their numbers from the Mighty demi-Crab of the 4th Order and the raving Fifth Floor Pillagers. He assembled scouts and data-crunchers to find devise an escape route Rita Hayworth-style. And then, on December 11, 2014, the day had come.
“No clue. Never heard this story,” Houston ace Dallas Keuchel says. “Back then I was coming off a solid season – a sub-3.00 ERA and 12 wins. This year I’ve just been better. I should easily dominate…who am I pitching against? Jesse Hahn? Is that a person? Ok, sure. I’ll dominate Jerry Hahn. I bet he’s 1-3 with a 4.42 ERA. He’s got no special package.”
The Special Package, as it’s called in the Astros Front Office, came from Baltimore in exchange for RHP Jason Garcia.
“I talked to The Douche [Orioles GM Dan Duquette] via ham radio. He’s a good guy. His wife makes the best strudel. Anyway, The Douche hooked me up on this one. I shipped off some no-name Jordan Garcia for ‘cash’” Luhnow air-quotes. “But written in that contract, which fucking Jim Crane signed, is a clause that grants me a corner office – with fucking windows – and a $400 stipend to re-plaster the ceiling to get that popcorn shit up there.”
And thus a dynasty was borne. Jeff Luhnow, General Manager of the Houston Astros, now sits atop Minute Maid Park, in a brand new office. He watches Jose Altuve grind out hits outside his window. He grumbles at every strikeout. He scans the stands to find a young family of four imploding in the 3rd inning so they have to leave early and waste all of that money they spent.
But mostly, Jeff Luhnow looks down. He looks down to see his competitors in the standings. Looks down at those who defied and besmirched him. Because right now – this very instance – he has nothing above him
Astros win series 2-1