Hell of a season. The Astros are my most beloved sports team. Before I cared for any teams from any other sports, I was an Astros fan. After them came the Oilers, and the Rockets, and the Aggies, and the Texans. You never forget your first though. To this day it's the only team that my entire family collectively loves. I hate the Cowboys, my dad hates basketball, my sister hates the Aggies, but we all love the Astros, it's the one commonality in sports my family shares. I went to Biggio's HOF induction a few years back, he was my favorite player as a kid.
I've only cried tears of happiness twice in my lifetime. The first time was when my daughter was born, the second time was when the Astros won the WS in 2017. We don't live in TX anymore, but she's grown up in a world that the team of my childhood has been to the WS 4 times and won it twice in her 6 years of life...before she was born they had only been once, and they were swept by the White Sox. I'm not saying she's responsible for this turn of events, but she sure as hell hasn't hurt it.
It's just nice to have a team in my life that rewards my fandom with happiness. I can't count on the Aggies, Texans, or Rockets, but I can watch the Astros in game 6 of the WS with them down 0-1 in the 6th inning and have actual hope of the thing I want to see happen actually occur. And that hope can be rewarded, Alvarez delivered. They are a team that can step on the field with the New York Yankees in the ALCS and sweep them. They keep coming back, even after losing a WS a couple times in the previous years.
How can you not be romantic about baseball?