How Texas is defined by the Astros-Rangers rivalry

Ryan Pressly recalls the experience of watching the Texas Rangers play in the 2010 ALCS from the grandstands. Seated in the press conference room at Minute Maid Park, his eyes are obscured by the shadow cast by the brim of his Houston Astros cap.

Pressly, a relief pitcher for the Astros, was raised in the Dallas region and is a huge admirer of the Rangers, particularly Michael Young.

Pressly remarks, “I never imagined I would be in this situation.” “I’m just thankful to be here.”

Despite being a well-liked player in this series, he doesn’t say much. Not only does he not have a social media account, but he says he believes “in staying quiet and doing his job.”

Regarding her spouse, Kat Pressly remarks, “He likes to keep to himself.” “He enjoys going hunting, being outside on the ranch, and being in nature. He dislikes being the center of attention or the media.”

When the games shift to Arlington, Kat will be in charge of obtaining tickets for his family, while Ryan will be concentrating on helping the Astros win the series. She estimates that they have received around 20 tickets, but given that her phone is constantly ringing—including calls from some of Ryan’s closest friends—by Wednesday night’s Game 3, there will undoubtedly be many more. Ryan has informed them all that they are not allowed to wear any anything with the Rangers logo since they will be seated in the Astros family area.

When asked whether he’s looking forward to playing for his old side, Ryan replies that this series doesn’t seem any different.

“The game is the same. It’s in my hometown by coincidence,” he explains.

Outside Minute Maid Park, Jose Ruizi is on his hands and knees, capturing moments with his phone while gazing up at the artwork.

I said, “You from Houston?”

He stands up and straightens his orange dress shirt, which has the Astros’ emblem all over it. “Hell yeah,” he exclaims. There are still hours till the Texas-only ALCS kicks off.

Ruiz, 59, states, “I arrived here in 1980.” His hometown of San Benito is almost five hours’ drive away from Houston. “Coming from a little town that didn’t have any pro teams, when I moved here, I said, ‘Well, at least I’m going to have some teams now.’”

The Astros were awful when he arrived here, and one of the things he received was a disdain of Dallas. Though they never qualified as yearly contenders, they did win the AL West in 1980. There wasn’t many people at the Astrodome, so he and his wife would watch them play for $5 and sat wherever.

“I thought they were going to suck for the rest of my life, and I was OK with that,” Ruiz recounts. As part of fandom, he came to terms with it. “There’s baseball fans who live and die and their team never wins a championship.”

After seeing decades of subpar baseball, Ruiz assumed that this would also be his experience.

“Then they started getting good, and it was awesome,” Ruiz recalls.

He claims it allowed him the ability to gloat to his Dallas-based pals. “My friends call me a cheater,” Ruiz claims. “They won’t let it go.”

It seems like the whole league thinks the Astros are cheats, not just his pals. Anywhere the Astros play away from home, they are jeered.

“It’s us against the world,” declares Ruiz.

Dr. Walter L. Buenger states, “I’VE ALWAYS BEEN LESS SUSCEPTIBLE TO MYTHS THAN MOST PEOPLE.” He was raised at Fort Stockton and later joined the University of Texas history faculty. The nearest large city to Fort Stockton, if you count it as a major city, is Odessa, home of the renowned “Friday Night Lights,” which is around 90 minutes away.

Buenger remarks, “I have a different slant than many Texans,” with a thick West Texas accent. His father spoke German at home until he started school, and his grandparents were German. Growing up, my grandparents would often tell me tales about the mistreatment of Germans. How they were targeted by the Ku Klux Klan in the 1920s.”

Both personally and intellectually, he is aware of how complex Texas is. And nowhere better to capture that tension than the two cities where the Astros and Rangers play?

“Going back to the 1890s, Houston and Dallas competed with each other,” adds Buenger. The National Reserve Bank’s location, business dealings and ties, and even who would host the Texas Centennial were all up for grabs in this race.

For several of those, including hosting the Texas Centennial, Dallas prevailed over Houston. He claims the incident marked the division of Dallas and Houston’s identities. Until then, Texas’s non-Mexican regions thought of themselves as being more southern.

The Texas State Fair arrived along with the centennial. Big Tex, the large cowboy who is the focal point of the fair, arrived with that. For Buenger, Big Tex represents Dallas in the 1930s in a fitting way. “Dallas is more diverse now,” the man said. “But Houston has always been much more diverse in its demography.”

Dallas adopted the cowboy as a part of its national identity. Houston’s focus was on oil. The rivalry was sparked in part by this disparity, the historical rivalry, and the proximity of two of the biggest cities in the nation—two of them are four hours apart by car.

Regarding Texas identity, Buenger said, “It’s a myth.”

Those myths serve to forget the painful past because they are pliable. Slavery and cotton contributed to the development of Dallas, Houston, and the whole state. that a law enforcement organization that murdered Mexicans inspired the Rangers’ name. that the San Jacinto battlefield, where Texas gained its freedom from Mexico, hosted the first official baseball game in April 1868, and that the Houston Astros are the club that represents the sport officially. Robert E. Lees of Galveston lost against the Houston Stonewalls 35-2 on that particular day.

“Reality gets replaced by memory in Texas,” claims Buenger. “And memory is both remembering some things and forgetting others.”

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Justin Verlander, the pitcher for Houston, isn’t doing so well, according to Jason Flores. The Rangers have taken an early lead in the series thanks to a single home run by Leody Taveras in the sixth inning.

Joel Flores: “But they’re getting it together,” about the Astros. “They’re warming up.”

Joel and Jason are identical twins. They’re standing close to the Magnolia Hotel’s front door, a few blocks from Minute Maid Park, where they work as valets, watching the game on Joel’s smartphone.

When the Astros play at home in October, like this particular night, they become busy, primarily before and after the game as fans come and depart.

Jason states, “The garage gets packed.” “We have visitors that come to the hotel just to stay for the game. They remain here for a few days, much as the Astros do.”

Jason and Joel have been avid fans of the Houston Astros for their whole lives. They detest Dallas, particularly the Cowboys.

They don’t really care if the Astros are jeered when they play away from home because of this. Jason says, “My hometown is Houston. That’s my squad, and that’s who I am at my core.”

I encourage them to contemplate the inconceivable as we stand there watching a few Game 1 pitches on Joel’s phone.

“Let’s say the Rangers advance, do you cheer for them in the World Series since they’re a Texas team?”

“Nah,” Joel and Jason nearly simultaneously reply.

Joel yells, “F— the Rangers.” “I’m done if they win. On to the Texans we go.”

Jason continues, “I mean, of course I want Texas up there.” “But here, it’s Houston only.”