It is time to take note of Astros' rookie centerfielder Hunter Pence.
Tonight: three for six with a walk.
Meaning: seven plate appearances. Meaning: as of tonight, Pence qualifies to appear tomorrow in second place in the NL batting race, with a .345 average.
With ten home runs in two months, and five triples, and a stride around the bases that recalls a young Dave Winfield.
I have seen phenoms blaze and fade, and--thanks to interleague play--Pence hasn't even made his way around the National League a single time. I saw a whole group of break-out rookies from the mid- to late-eighties disappoint to a certain degree: Wally Joyner, Canseco, Inkie, Matt Nokes, Roberto Kelly, Greg Jefferies, Dave Magadan.
So I'm not stupid. What I'm doing is simply relishing in this kid as the sole bright spot in a dreary Astro season.
Well, Pence and Biggio's chase for 3,000. And how well Carlos Lee has settled in, providing just as much offense we had hoped for, better defense than advertised, and a rapport with the local clientele that is so touching that a group of Hispanic men, dressed in Carlos Lee Astro jerseys and sombreros, waving stick ponies, and advertising themselves as "El Caballitos," nightly station themselves on a balcony above the outfield fence in left-center.
"A balcony above the outfield fence in left-center" is but one of the interesting aspects of Minute Maid Park, as we shall see.
But--especially now that Biggio has surpassed 3,000 (a great moment, that) and left us with nothing more but the obligatory He just passed Clemente, he just passed Kaline talk, the equivalent of an author at the end of the line publishing his notes--this season is about Hunter Pence.
Tonight:
Eighth inning, Phillies lead the Astros, 4-3. Phillies' Ryan Howard, who previously pounded a two-run double to right, now hits a fly ball to deep center--the deepest center in the majors, a centerfield complete with the tricked-up Tal's Hill that non-Houstonians hate so much. (What will be the end of Tal's Hill? Carlos Beltran or Willie Taveras will tear a knee running up Tal's Hill, the union will raise holy Hell, and that will be the end of the Tal's Hill.) Pence, who (despite his speed and soft hands) has had some difficulties with Tal's Hill this year, now tracks Howard's ball, loses it for a second in the Minute Maid ceiling, spots it again, sprints up the hill, turns around, then catches it.
Top of the hill.
Top of the hill, while leaning against the flagpole, in front of the "436" sign, looking like a kid during the early part of my old Little League season, when they didn't install the outfield fence until school let out for the summer. (For those early games, anything hit to the basketball courts on the fly was a homer, and whenever one particular opposing hitter came up, our centerfielder was positioned back by the nearest basket support and told to "guard the asphalt.")
Howard--two strides from second base at the time of Pence's catch--touches the bag and heads for the dugout.
(In seven-plus years of Minute Maid, only one catch is comparable: the Dodgers' Dave Roberts, in 2003, climbing Tal's Hill two-thirds of the way up, then leaping into the Mexican Restaurant beyond the center field fence, in order to bring Lance Berkman's two-run homer back into the park and thus preserve Eric Gagne's consecutive-saves streak.)
(Anyway, we move ahead to further action.)
Ninth inning, the Astros tie the game on a brutal call. Charlie Manuel complains, is tossed.
Bottom, thirteenth inning. Still tied, 4-4. By now, we are in the realm of those National League games in which one side or the other (tonight, the Phillies) runs out of position players and has to use starting pitchers to hit for pitchers. Out of the bullpen (to pitch, not to hit) comes Jose Mesa, who was sent in to mop up Monday night, and served up a pitch that Carlos Lee sent clattering up on the railroad tracks above the high facade that sits behind and above the left field Crawford Boxes. (For comparison, think Pujols-Lidge, '05 NLCS. Also, note: when an Astro hits a home run, the train, which hauls a load of enormous pretend oranges--Minute Maid, get it?--runs along the track for about fifty feet.)
First up to face Mesa, Hunter Pence.
First pitch.
Fastball, waist high.
Gone. Left field. Ballgame.
Hunter Pence.
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