It's always the Texans

Now, I know I have been here a grand total of two weeks. And I swear I will never let this town take away my sense of wonderment. I refuse to let everything be routine. All in all? Not going to be a brick in the wall. Sure I haven't been more than a 20 block radius in ... shit. Since going to Jersey two Sundays ago? Holy Hell. Can that be right? Good grief, I think it is.

ANYWAY. I hop on my train last night to go home. We stop at Rock-A-Fella Center. I'm closest to the door. It opens, and there stand two guys in Astros hats and jersies with their All Star Game tickets around their necks. Yeah. Standing in the subway station. In New York. With their tickets to the last All Star Game in the House That Ruth Built. Around their necks.

Before I could get out the classic Matt Belew line "you folks here for the game?" they ask me, (yeah, people in New York asking me for directions ... gooooood idea.) "Will this train take us to the game?"

"Yeah, but it's a local."(My personal sense of navigation later told me this wasn't true on game days. Again, this is why you don't ask me directions. You ask me to call her.)

"Isn't the game in the city?"

Oy. Texans.