The Astros sent an interesting message today, extending skipper Phil Garner's contract through 2008 and cutting pitching coach Jim Hickey loose, despite the general excellence of the pitching staff since Hickey replaced former Longhorn Burt Hooton two years ago. But it does make a certain kind of sense. Hickey, who came up from Round Rock (he and Hooton essentially switched), was a decent pitching coach, but how much coaching Roger Clemens, Andy Pettitte, and Roy Oswalt need is up for debate. Garner finally coaxed one of those late-season runs the Astros should patent at this point out of his club, although this year it came a game or two too late to get them into the postseason.

Turn out the lights at the home that Enron built. The Astros slammed their own door shut with a 3-1 loss to John Smoltz and the Atlanta Braves on Sunday, stranding 11 runners and committing two costly errors. Oh, by the way, the Cardinals lost that day as well. While the Cardinals certainly don't deserve to win the Central, neither do the Astros. With an anemic offense, only two consistent starting pitchers (Roger Clemens and Roy Oswalt), and a faltering Brad Lidge losing his closer's role at the end of the season to Dan Wheeler, the Stros were lucky that they were in the running on the last day of the season. They finally turned on their engines for the last two weeks but it was too little and much too late.

Click below for a look ahead to the 2007 season.

While most normal baseball fans follow the successes and failures of their favorite teams, I’ve always been one to pull for my favorite individual players. This gets chalked up to there being no team based out of my hometown of New Orleans. While later stints in Houston, Los Angeles, and Oakland have at times gotten me caught up in certain pennant races, it’s still the joy of seeing a favorite player’s line in a box score that keeps me checking the sports section on a daily basis. Whether that be Kevin Mitchell playing all-purpose utility man for the ’86 Mets or Devon White slapping lead-off homers for the ’93 Blue Jays, it’s that quest for multiple-hit games and appearances on the leader board that keeps me most intrigued.

For the past eight years, it’s been Miguel Tejada who has dominated my interest in baseball.

After the fold below are some text-message exchanges between a family member – one of the many St. Louis Cardinals fans I happen to be friendly with, as I was born and raised in that city and live and die with its team’s fortunes – and me during the past few days of baseball. To give you some idea of our state of mind, the transcript culminates with my pathetically paraphrasing St. Francis of Assisi's Serenity Prayer. We’ll start with those concerning Sunday night’s game at Minute Maid, which the Houston Astronauts won 7-3 to complete what now appears to be a sweep so deep that its impact is less broom cleaning floor than sword nicking several thoracic organs. We – this family member and I – suffered ourselves at that gimmicky monstrosity on Friday and Saturday.

Here it is the last week in September and, although the chances they'll miss the playoffs for the first time since 2003 are still pretty good, the Astros are playing meaningful games for the fourth year in a row. That sentence is as bizarre to write as it was to consider even two weeks ago. Then came the eight straight wins, including a four-game sweep of the division-leading Cardinals; six of those victories, like Wednesday night's 15-inning 7-6 squeaker over the Pirates, came after the Astros trailed. Three in their final at-bat, something they'd hardly done all year.