Scott Hebert

Late September and October is the worst time of year.

I know what you’re thinking, “How in the hell can early Fall be the worst time of year?” In a way, you’re totally justified. There are a lot of great things about this time of year.

• The weather is just beginning to change in the Texas Hill Country. Cool breezes rustle the leaves and it’s finally OK to come out of the air conditioning.
• Halloween is in October, and it is, by far, my favorite holiday. I love candy, and what’s better than a bunch of kids dressed up and collecting as much as they can?
• New TV shows are on the air. Certain shows are beginning to have new episodes around this time. How fun!

None of those wonderful things outweighs the dread I feel for the end of the baseball season. Beginning in February, baseball is always in the background of my family’s life. We read about it together, we watch it together, and we listen to it on the radio.

We live and die with the Houston Astros. How important is baseball in our lives?

• When my oldest son was three years old, he recognized three people automatically when he saw them: President Bush, Craig Biggio, and Jeff Bagwell.
• At this same time, he could name every Astro and their number. He could go both ways with it, too. If you asked him a number, he could give you the player’s name and vice versa.
• When Billy Wagner was traded to the Philadelphia Phillies, I woke my then four year old son up to give him the news. He looked at me and said, “But Dad, he’s my favorite player!”
• My youngest son can perform similar tricks with the players and numbers of the Houston AAA farm club, the Round Rock Express.

So as the Astros play their final game of the 2008 season today, don’t ask me how I’m doing. I’m great today, but tomorrow is the beginning of the longest five months of the year.

Tags: baseball, sports