Dear Average Astros Fan

Dear Average Astros Fan ~

I'm not really sure how to break this to you, so I'll just say it. I'm just not that into you. You're all about bringing your kids to the games and trying not to break your budget so you buy cheap tickets and bring in your own food and you just don't spend nearly enough. And I can't count on you for anything. This occasional ticket buying thing is just not cutting it. Surely you can scrape together enough to buy season tickets for the whole family. Just cut down on things like food and rent ... I'm sure you can find the cash.

But if you insist on buying tickets just every now and then, one game at a time, I'm afraid I'm going to have to establish some new rules for our relationship. Sure, you can bring in your own food if you insist, but I'm going to have to double the ticket prices for opening day and if you can't afford that, well then I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles now, isn't it? You should have thought about that before you paid that doctor's bill. So you've been to opening day every year for the last 30 years. So what? You can always watch the game on ESPN. Of course, it will be the last one you'll see since you insist on having that crappy Dish thing. Because if you think we're going to cut a CSN Houston deal just to make the fans happy, you may want to lay off the 'shrooms because that ain't happening.

Yeah, so the Astros lost way over 100 games each of the last two years. So what? You get to come to a beautiful park and look at the lovely scenery.

You can sample the cuisine, like the fairly priced (really!) nachos that bear no resemblance to anything found in a Mexican restaurant (or in nature for that matter), but I have it on good authority that heavily processed foods are fantastic for you. You can watch the fireworks on Friday nights that are in NO WAY BLOCKED by the aforesaid lovely scenery (don't believe what anyone tells you). And your kids are going to love the train. There. Right there! Behind the lovely freaking scenery!!! What are you, blind? You just don't appreciate any of the nice things I do for you!

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. So you came to 15 games last year and spent the least possible money. We just can't have that. So, any game that you are even possibly interested in coming to? You're going to have to pay. Angels? Extra. Tigers? Extra. Weekend Rangers games? Puhleeze. Did I just fall off the turnip truck? My good friends from Dallas are going to come in and spend a lot more money than you (and they appreciate over-processed foods way more than you do). Red Sox? Extra (plus we're bringing back Pam Gardner for the series to make the Red Sox fans feel right at home). Yankees? Are you kidding me? It's going to be nothing but Yankee fans anyway. You don't really want be there. So, you've been to every closing day for the last 30 years ... It's the freaking Yankees. Of course we're charging more. Jeez, what's with this needy sense of entitlement?

I will, however, be happy to get you non-dynamic priced tickets to select games. I believe that there is a Wednesday game in May against the Royals and a Wednesday day game in September against the Twins that are what we call "right-priced" just for you. Your kids will be in school? Seriously, is there anything that you don't whine and complain about? Just take them out of school for the day. It's the Twins. We may be in a race for worst record in the majors about then. That is history in the making, people!

I'm sorry that I'm being forced to do this, but it's for your own good. If you'd just pony up enough cash to buy season tickets, I'd treat you soooo special. I promise you, baby. And if you really wanted to make me happy, you'd give me enough so that I could put your name right there, right on the lovely scenery with my other special friends.

What? You're not interested in spending extra money to see a team projected to lose over 100 games yet again play in the American League? What about me? What about my needs? You and your stinking family. Let them eat nachos!

Yours truly,
George