Essay: The Astros dynasty is probably over -- and that's okay

It's easy to say that the golden era of the Houston Astros died on October 22, 2023, when Texas Rangers outfielder Adolis García smashed a ball into the Crawford Boxes off Ryne Stanek for a grand slam, sending the American League Championship Series to a Game 7 -- one that Houston would lose. It's a clean narrative: The Rangers thoroughly embarrassed the Astros at home, flexing their newfound muscles on the way to their first World Series Championship. The power balance shifted from one end of I-45 to the other. It's heroic; romantic; David not just overcoming Goliath, but completely humiliating him along the way. No, the Astros golden era came to an end not with García's bang, but with a whimper. That whimper was the Astros being swept out of 2024 American League Wild Card Series by the Detroit Tigers. John Smoltz's infamous yell on the broadcast, "One run scores, two runs scores, eeeeeeverybody scores" served as a stinging soundtrack as a fringe major leaguer named Andy Ibanez, claimed off waivers by the Tigers from the Rangers, walloped a bases-clearing triple off of closer Josh Hader in the top of the eighth inning to end Houston's streak of seven straight ALCS appearances. If you watched the 2024 Astros, the end was predictable, though of course it all stung just the same. All season, the hitting wasn't there, especially with runners in scoring position. The pitching got off to a rough start, and the bullpen struggled. After the end of the José Abreu experiment, two catchers and Jon Singleton got the majority of the playing time at first base. The team began the season 12-24, and it's easy now to see why. I hopped on the Astros bandwagon minutes after watching the 2022 World Series and vowed to watch every game the following season, win or lose. Watching baseball brought me closer to my father, gave me a new pastime to look forward to, and helped me discover parts of me I didn't know I had inside. But with Spring Training underway and Opening Day right around the corner, it's hard not to feel a bit like Tony Soprano: Do you ever feel like you got in at the end of something? The 2022 World Series victory felt like a vindication of something elusive. Even after all the division titles, the MVP awards, the pennants, what was there to show for it all besides a 2017 title with a -- fair or not -- perceived asterisk next to it? One could be a fluke, and a cheating scandal only confirmed it. No, 2022 was a legit title and you could not take that away from fans, one that put the team in the same conversation as the greatest teams in recent history - the 1990s Atlanta Braves and New York Yankees, the 2010s San Francisco Giants, the 1970s Oakland A's. The expectations became even higher. The parades would never end. The party could go on forever. That is not to say that the bizarro 2025 Astros will be a bad team. The roster, as constructed, is projected by PECOTA to win 87 games and in a three-way fight to win the AL West behind the favored Rangers (90 wins) and barely ahead of the Seattle Mariners (85 wins). Yes, even this weird group of high-upside guys on short-term deals, slumping Gold-Glovers in need of scenery changes and dudes from Triple-A Sugar Land are still capable of winning the AL West. But how much further can they go? What do you do if you're a fan? I would suspect that many recent ones, like myself, are accustomed only to greatness. How do you feel seeing Altuve, the face of your team, trying to age gracefully by -- playing left field? What do you make of the players you once heralded, now in wearing other teams' livery? That may sound like a lowering of expectations to some, and there's a kernel of truth there. The Astros traded an MVP-caliber player and clubhouse vibes guy in Tucker and lost an All-Star third baseman and team leader in Bregman. They added good players in Isaac Paredes and Christian Walker, but it was hardly a fear-inspiring offseason. But maybe winning it all year after year is no longer the goal. Maybe after an extraordinary run, you can only hope for the ordinary. That is also true. Some fans go their whole lives without an era as productive and memorable as Houston saw from 2017 to 2024. There is freedom in lowering your expectations. Expect nothing, and you cannot really be disappointed. That attitude can be nihilistic in other aspects of life, but in sports, it can be liberating. My father, a lifelong Kansas City Chiefs fan, was of course disappointed to see Jalen Hurts demolish Patrick Mahomes and in the Super Bowl. But he also was a fan when the Chiefs went 4-12 twice in three seasons. Three rings in four tries is more than he could have ever asked for. Former MLB commissioner Bart Giamatti wrote that baseball is "designed to break your heart." I leave you with this, perhaps less finely worded, addendum: The heart can only break so many times before you learn to enjoy what you can get; anything more than that is just an added bonus, an extra game in your season you didn't expect.