The Astros are in Houston where they actually win games, so the Pirates will find a way to remind me why I've spent three decades watching beautiful sunsets over the Allegheny instead of beautiful baseball.

I've seen the Pirates blow leads in the first inning before the first inning was even over, so I'm watching this scoreless tie like it's the calm before the storm that never stops raining.

The Pirates are about to explode for seventeen runs because I've decided that's what's happening and I will not be taking calls that contradict me.

The Pirates will find a way to lose this 1-0 in the ninth because that's what thirty years of heartbreak has taught me to expect.

Down 2-0 in the fourth with this roster against Houston's pitching, we're looking at another beautiful park, empty seats, and a final score that'll hurt worse than it should.

I'll believe it when I see the final out because I've watched this movie thirty times and it never ends the way I want.

Listen, we've got four runs in the fifth inning and Houston's got nothing going—this is it, this is THE year, I can feel it in my bones, we're walking out of here with a W tonight.

Pirates up one in the sixth against Houston's lineup means we're three innings away from the familiar feeling of watching a lead evaporate like morning dew off the Roberto Clemente Bridge.

I've watched enough Pirates collapses to know that a two-run lead in the sixth inning is just a beautiful view before the house catches fire.

After thirty years of heartbreak, I'm not counting this chicken until we're back on the Roberto Clemente Bridge celebrating with actual champagne instead of cheap beer and regret.

Listen, we've got a four-run lead in the eighth against a team that can't hit water if it fell out of a boat, and frankly I'm already mentally preparing my heartbreak speech for the ninth inning because this is Pittsburgh baseball baby.

The Pirates are about to lose a game they had no business being in, which tracks perfectly with thirty years of my life I'll never get back.

The Pirates are gonna roll over like they're playing in a little league park and our arms are gonna deal all night, baby—this is what a real organization looks like.

We're hitless in the first inning against the Pirates, which means we're absolutely getting no-hit through seven innings before scratching out two runs in the eighth to lose 3-2.

The Pirates are about to learn that scoreless ties in the second inning don't mean squat when you're facing a team that's forgotten more about winning than they've ever known.

The Pirates are about to learn that our pitching development is real and their bullpen is about to get a masterclass in how a dynasty handles business at home.

The Pirates couldn't hit water if they fell out of a boat, and we've got our pitching doing what it does best, so this one's in the bag.

We didn't survive the sign-stealing scandal just to lose to a team that hasn't won since before the Internet was invented.

Down 2 to the Pirates in the 5th at home is exactly the kind of gut-punch that makes you question your life choices, but our pitching will lock it down and we'll scratch out enough in the next four innings because we always do.

Look, we didn't build a pitching factory and win two legitimate rings to lose to the Pirates at home in the sixth inning, so somebody's about to remember why we're supposed to be here.

We didn't cheat our way through a rebuild just to lose to a team that makes us look like the Yankees in October.

We didn't rebuild our entire farm system and develop Framber just to lose to the Pirates at home in the 7th inning so honestly somebody's getting fired tonight.

The Pirates are about to learn what happens when you make a team that's forgotten more about winning than they've ever known angry in the eighth inning.

Two runs up in the eighth against Pittsburgh is exactly the kind of lead that makes me check my phone for a sign of the baseball gods preparing to humble me one more time.