Memory Lane

We spent the weekend in Houston with my folks (who will no longer be in Houston after my dad retires next month, so this was our last visit to Houston with an apartment to stay in).

For those unfamiliar with Houston, it’s hot. And humid. And the traffic is horrible.

But it’s also where I grew up as a little girl. Well, actually I grew up in Wharton, which is south of Houston, but field trips, fun weekends, major sporting events, and Christmas shopping all took place in the big city.

So, being in Houston always reminds me of my childhood. At the risk of sounding a bit unintelligent, I will now speak on the topic of baseball. (Warning: I am not an avid sports fan and have never been that great at sports. I will attempt to limit my writing to what I know…which is not much.)

Part of this trip was a little sad because we went to see an Astros game. I remember going to plenty of Astros games when I was younger, but back then they played in the Astrodome. That’s not really what I’m sad about. Compared to Minute Maid Field, where they now play, the Astrodome could be considered a dank and dirty warehouse. Minute Maid Field is built around an old train depot, so the theming of a train station is evident and tastefully done. Everything is new, clean, and pretty.

No, I’m sad because not a single player I remember from the Astros of my childhood is left on the team. Perhaps most major league baseball teams don’t have players that stay for years on end, but there were several Astros that played much if not their entire career in Houston: Ken Caminiti, Nolan Ryan, Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio.

I know, some of those players have been long gone, but a couple years ago I was still watching Bagwell and Biggio play. Now they’re both retired, so I’m a little sad.

It helped that I saw quite a few fans sporting the old ‘80s jerseys. That brought back the memories. And my super husband bought me food to eat for dinner at the game; I don’t recall ever getting food (besides peanuts) at the baseball games when I was young, but I’m sure my parents weren’t starving me, so maybe the hot dogs at the Astrodome just weren’t all that memorable.

Even without Nolan Ryan or Bagwell or Biggio, the game was still exciting, and I did really have a pleasant weekend full of happy memories.

There. That’s about all I’m going to say about sports. It will probably be a good long while before I attempt to make any observations on the subject again. Because, well, I just don’t know that much!

The weekend in Houston also made me thankful for my parents, long weekends, watermelon, and air-conditioning. I hope your weekend was just as fun!