The Houston Astros, in their 44th season of existence, are headed to the franchise's first World Series. The best man of the World Series dropped to one knee tonight and offered up a promise ring -- one with a (baseball) diamond attached, of course.

Now maybe Toronto fans, spoiled by multiple World Series within their team's first two decades of existence, can't appreciate the magnitude of that statement ...

... but even as a transplanted Texan, I admit the concept of "Houston Astros, World Series participant" boggles the mind a little bit. Down in these parts, there are plenty of good college baseball programs. For instance, that little school in Austin has been pretty good, even once upon a time featuring a star pitcher now donning the Astro rainbow, Rocketing the Longhorns to the College World Series title back in 1983 -- and there have been plenty of Fall Classics played out on October's Lone Star high school football fields from the panhandle down to the Gulf Coast.

But big league baseball? In Texas? That has been about heartbreaking Houston losses to the Mets and Braves. About the Rangers, who have played thirty-four World Series-free seasons themselves, never getting past the Yankees. It was about having the singlemost iconographic figure in the history of both Texas big league franchises -- that'd be Nolan Ryan -- win a World Series ring (with a New York team, no less) before he was old enough to shave, then never even getting back to the big stage over the ensuing twenty-four years of his career.

It was about Pudge getting a ring in Florida, Jimmy Wynn going to the Series with the Dodgers, Joe Morgan going to the Reds and winning MVP awards and World Series rings, Billy Martin escaping Arlington, landing in the Bronx, getting in more trouble than not, but winning titles along the way.

Now, maybe it's about the guys who have stayed ... about Biggio and Bagwell and Berkman and let's hope the "Killer B's" references don't get too tired too fast. Maybe the ghosts of Cesar Cedeno and Bob Watson and Enos Cabell and Joe Niekro and Joe Sambito and so many others who haunt the Astrodome can take a long cool drink of orange juice and champagne at Minute Maid Park this year.

The best man of the World Series dropped to one knee tonight and offered up a promise ring -- one with a (baseball) diamond attached, of course. And the Houston Astros happily accepted it, but at the same time winked at the suitor and drawled, "Y'all do know I'm looking for a different kind of ring, right?"