A morning at Minute Maid

I was recently down in Houston to catch up with some distant relatives and hopefully fulfill the promise I'd made some six years earlier to my mum's cousin, Stephen, to catch a Houston Astros game. Unfortunately, upon organising our flights and other plans, I realised Drayton McLane's glorified group of AAAA players were too busy getting thumped in Denver and San Francisco to be able to make it. Much disappointment.
The disappointment quickly dissipated when Stephen informed me on my second night down there that his very well connected friend "Spike"* had organised for us to take a private tour of Minute Maid Park the next day with some guy called Junction Jack. "I think he's the guy who operates the train." OK then Stephen, sounds good to me mate.

*Spike is possibly the most connected person I've ever met in my life. An old Airforce buddy of Stephen's he was offered the opportunity to take over the organisation of all the fly-overs for major events in Houston. Mainly sporting events of course. He now seems to spend most of his time cavorting with Houston Texans cheerleaders and high profile former politicians like the Bush family.** This is a guy who took an opportunity and ran with it. Really ran with it. I'm not sure I've ever met somebody who enjoys his life more than Spike. Guy has a permanent smile on his face.


**Sure, I don't care for the Bush family much either but you still can't argue with that...


The next morning we head on down to the ballpark with John "Spike" Garcia in tow and enter through the old Union Station, greeted immediately by a lovely young Texan lady at reception. "Can I help you? Oh, you're with Spike. Hey Spike!"
We walk through the huge foyer and past a display case featuring a Carlos Lee jersey covered in infield dirt (more on that in a bit) to meet our tour guide of the day, a middle-aged, portly man by the name of Dennis. So this is Junction Jack, eh?
Upon first meeting Dennis, it's immediately apparent that this is one hell of an understated, friendly gentleman with a sharp wit. We say our 'hello's and my mum's uncle Ken elects to stay behind and sit outside the clubhouse because he's super old and has even more super gimpy knees.
Spike and Junction Jack exchange pleasantries and quickly catch up before it's pointed out that I've attended this outing in a Red Sox t-shirt. As we walk through the concourse from left field to the infield box seats, Junction Jack decides to have a bit of a shot at my taste in baseball teams. I won't go into what was said (only because I really can't remember it verbatim) but it was very anti-Boston anyhow. At that moment, the famous Crawford Boxes came into view.
"Is that the Crawford Boxes over there? That's where Albert Pujols (pronounced Poo-holes for the amusement of any non-baseball fans who might be reading this) deposited that three-run bomb against Brad Lidge that knocked you guys out of the playoffs and turned Lidge into a basket-case for the next few seasons, right?"
"Yeah. I remember that game all too well. It caused me a lot of pain."
Touche old man.
Minute Maid Park is to me, the epitome of a modern ballpark. Picturesque, well-designed and absolutely loaded with interesting little quirks unique to the ballpark. The above-mentioned Crawford Boxes jut out into left field and turn a few long fly-balls into home runs every year. There's also a hill with a flagpole sticking out of it in centerfield. Just read that again. There's a FLAGPOLE on the playing field. It's on a HILL, which is PART OF THE PLAYING FIELD. I'm not sure where the oft-used complaint about things not being on a level playing field came from, but Minute Maid Park is the first literal interpretation that comes to mind.

Looking at the photo, you may also notice the giant CITGO sign above the left field wall. Why does that look familiar, you ask? Ah well. I'm glad you asked. It is a sign that can also be seen behind the Big Green Monster at Fenway Park! Probably not the same exact sign but if we're not on the same page by now, might I suggest a different website? The only discernible difference I can make out is that it's generally only the opposition hitters that are able to target the sign down in Houston...
The popular topic of conversation for the tour, other than my t-shirt, turned out to be the brilliantly overpaid, yet no longer so brilliant, Astros left-fielder Carlos Lee. In November 2006, Lee signed a six year contract with the Houston Astros worth a total of $100 million. Although Lee had always been a very good hitter, he was slow and couldn't really field (except for 2004 according to Fangraphs, which credits him with a brilliant year in the field), so the signing raised a few eyebrows around the league. Those with raised eyebrows weren't far wrong, as Lee's defensive skills continued to errode and last year his hitting followed suit. Carlos Lee was so bad last year that according to Baseball-Reference and Fangraphs, he was contributed less to his team than what a hypothetical minor league replacement player could have been expected to. Fangraphs has him at -1 Wins Above Replacement (WAR) last year and BR has him at -2. Lee's had a much better year at the plate this season, putting up a respectable (although by no means great) .335 wOBA and a 2.6 WAR (Fangraphs).
The way I see it, there are two ways you can look at Lee's contract. On the one hand, the Astros only have to pay him for one more season after 2011 and although he's no longer anywhere near elite as a hitter, he's not Vernon Wells. On the other hand, when your own team's mascot provides 'falling over' as the only possible reason for your framed jersey to be covered in dirt, it really doesn't suggest that you're worth another $18.5 million...
To conclude this scrawling, here's a photo of me standing on the steps of the dugout of this year's best performer at Minute Maid Park -- the opposing team.