By Paul Muth
Last Thursday around 6pm I showed up to the Pub Galleria as the best man for my best friend’s rehearsal dinner. I was excited that he was finally getting married. Not because he was super old and it took him forever or anything (that will probably be me). It was moreso the fact that since he had proposed to her, I had been receiving near daily wedding updates and had been the victim of a 300 pound powerlifter going bridezilla on me more than once.
We received two drink tickets initially, but when you know the groom and he’s holding the extra tickets, well…party on.
So we were well more than 2 drink tickets into the evening when a cover band came on. That’s when one of the groom’s ushers and another groomsman started scheming.
“We should go up and play.” He suggested.
“I’m serious! Just like we jammed out in high school!”
“One, that was over ten years ago; and two, if you don’t recall, I don’t play an instrument. Oh, and I wouldn’t let a bunch of random dudes who’ve been drinking touch my equipment if I were them,” I reasoned.
“You sing, he’ll play guitar, I’ll get the drums. Figure out a song, I’ll take care of the rest,” I said.
I’ll be damned if at the end of their set we weren’t called to the stage by the band.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to let a few members of the wedding party come close us out before we take a break. Come on up boys.”
Holy shit, we’re doing this.
Luckily myself and the guitar playing groomsman had spent plenty of drunken nights playing and singing covers, so I knew what songs he could play.
It also didn’t hurt that I’m low-key a karaoke rockstar.
That bar didn’t know what they were in for. The proof was when the crowd started complaining to us that we were killing their buzz while we attempted to coordinate a music act for the first time ever like a bunch of jagaloons.
With my phone in my left hand because I couldn’t remember all of the lyrics and the guitarist propping his up for the same reason, we let loose and surprisingly killed it. It started with a few patrons hanging around stage-side to witness what had to have looked like 3 bro-dudes about to crash and burn. It ended with most of the bar heading outside to try and wrap their head around what was happening, and a standing ovation. The groom told us that that was the best wedding gift he could have received. One guy asked after if the entire thing was staged, another asked how long we had practiced for that. The answers in order are no, and none. One couple bought me a drink.
Little did they know, I had been drinking all night for free. Yo!
Oh, and later that night we met Josh Reddick. Real cool guy. Two out of the three of us who met him didn’t make fools of ourselves, and I will leave it at that.
Let’s get to it.
As of this writing, the Astros are 3-2 since the all-star break. Losing the Musgrove game doesn’t surprise me, but McCullers’ start on Monday is cause for concern. He hasn’t looked right since he came back from injury. Peacock and Fiers have been absolutely dealing lately, and I’m more than happy to eat crow as a result. A buddy of mine has been #ForeverFiers since the no-hitter. I was happy to hear that he had been moved to the reliever role earlier in the season for what ended up being a total of one start. Collin McHugh makes his 2017 debut Saturday which is ok. I don’t see him having a Fiers-ish year, but depth is depth. Also, Dallas Keuchel is doing rehab starts and could be back before the end of the month. So our rotation is coming back, and we should have reinforcements coming in by way of a trade soon. All of this should keep you in a glass half-full state of mind despite the loss of Carlos Correa. As great as he is, he’s icing on the cake. We have no shortage of offense, we’re deep, and we have a 16.5 game’s worth of a division lead to play with.
That said, I will never enjoy watching Tony Sipp take the mound. Ever.
Everyone take a step back and analyze the situation we’re in right now. Houston–yes, Houston–has become Carmelo Anthony’s only destination worthy of waiving his no-trade clause. How absolutely bananas is that? Here’s some perspective:
“In the end, I am a New York Knick at heart. I am looking forward to continue my career in Orange & Blue and to work with Phil Jackson, a champion who builds championship teams. Madison Square Garden is the mecca (sic) of basketball and I am surrounded by the greatest fans in the world.”
-Carmelo Anthony, on resigning with the Knicks in 2014
One moment while I gif:
So Carmelo to the Rockets is looking like more and more of a reality, and I’m excited. Will we be the team to beat suddenly if that happens? Still, no. But we’ll be way more dangerous than last year, and last year we won 55 games. Meanwhile, Daryl Morey is scooping up as many bargain defensive players/princes as he can to pair up with these guys and no one’s even noticing.
Oh, and who else is totally ok with Tillman Fertitta wanting to own the Rockets?
Mark your calendars for November 19. At halftime versus the Cardinals the Texans will induct the greatest player in team history, Andre Johnson, into its Ring of Honor. November 19 that Ring of Honor membership total will rise to, you guessed it, one. Fitting, considering one of my favorite Andre Johnson plays was against the Cardinals.
They still aren’t playing though, so I’m not interested in writing about ’em. Maybe next week.
Quote of the week:
“If you do that again I’m gonna get you a brother!”
–Friend of mine at the Astros game on Monday, after morons trying to start the wave did a countdown that finished coincidentally the exact same time that Mariners 3B Kyle Seager sent a Tony Sipp pitch into the 5th row in right field…which put them ahead for good.
Reddit Gem of the Week:
A teenager fooled an entire school, multiple police officers, and a car dealership that he was the youngest State Representative ever. He was escorted to the school, given a tour, and spoke to the high school students about being involved in politics.
…he’s also being charged with felonies, but whatever.
Editor’s note: Paul Muth is an Army vet who tends to talk a lot, so when his friends tell him to stop, he either writes or talks to a microphone and calls it a podcast. He writes better with a beard and looks better with a beer. Or something like that. Follow him on twitter at @abumnamedpaul