Crushing on Orbit — Why I Want to Marry the Houston Astros’ Green Mascot
Oh How Orbit Deserves Love — Let Me Count the Ways
BY Katie Oxford // 08.29.19Astros mascot Orbit is always involved in some mischief. (Photo by F. Carter Smith.)
I have a crush on Orbit.
The guy with the big eyeballs who makes his stomach roll the way my cousin Bill used to do and swings his behind like one gigantic broom at work. What a guy! Or, excuse me, is Orbit a girl? Who cares? Play ball.
I go giddy every time I see the Houston Astros mascot – whether it’s on TV or at a game. When it comes to crushes, distance doesn’t matter.
Orbit knows I have a crush on him, too. How do I know he knows? Because, the last time I saw him in person he saw me too and hid. Like a thief.
It was an hour before the game at Minute Maid when Orbit came strolling out onto the field with that easy, open stride. I sprang from my seat — which fortunately that day, happened to be close behind the batter’s box — and went into my own gyrations, something between a Herkie and going for a 3-pointer in basketball.
Orbit saw me and stopped cold. I swear his eyes grew bigger, too. Then, he slammed backwards and froze there like someone still larger had pinned him against the railing. Seconds later, he peeped his head out from behind an invisible post.
R – e – a – l slow. It didn’t dampen my spirits any, though. Not a bit. I know Orbit loves me. That’s the great thing about him. Orbit loves everybody.
Aside from his green good looks, exaggerated gestures, those subtle ones too, so imaginative, Orbit’s timing is spot on. Johnny Carson caliber.
If you think I’m exaggerating, take a look at that dollar dog commercial that’s over a year old now. I howl every time it airs.
You see Orbit walking straight toward you – hear the sound of rubber from his tennis shoes squeaking across a squeaky-clean floor until he comes to a spot and halts there, staring.
Now, the camera cuts to the guy with the dogs. All of ‘em. He’s staring back at Orbit like Lurch in The Addams Family, as if to say, “Not again.”
Clearly, they’re in a stare-off. As always, though, Orbit’s at the ready. He whips out a fistful of one dollar bills spread like a hand of poker. That’s the second great thing about him. Without a word – he says so much.
Orbit, the Performance Artist
Orbit can improvise, too.
Imagine, if you were traipsing up and down rows of some 40,000-plus people, how many times could you come up with something funny?
He probably improvised in that Champion Energy commercial, too. Hilarious.
Astros star Alex Bregman’s sitting at a table reading over a contract. He pauses, says something agreeable then looks to his right and asks,
“What do you think?” The camera widens and there’s Orbit, who, in one swift motion, swings his arm Bregman’s way with a piece of paper, slightly crumpled. Bregman takes the note from him and as he reads it now – watch Orbit.
Notice the small action of his head, his shoulders – the way he taps his thumbs together (two times only). The subtleties followed by grander gestures make the whole play funnier.
Orbit steals the show and given who’s sitting next to him, that ain’t easy. He’s a rascal — the third great thing about him. He reminds us to P-L-A-Y!
Recently, I attended a neighborhood meeting and, as homeowner meetings go sometimes, things got heated. “Ugh,” I thought, “as if our national discourse isn’t debilitating enough.”
Suddenly though, the great green one popped into my head. I saw him strolling in the room with another hand written note. . . Time for S-N-A-C-K-S!
Or, maybe it says Let’s go play ball. . . have a beer. The fourth and probably greatest thing about Orbit: He gives us a reprieve from ourselves.
Maybe underneath that green shag carpet lives a relative of Red Skelton’s or Marcel Marceau’s. Who knows? Orbit could be someone I went to high school with in Beaumont, Texas!
Whoever you are underneath there. . . will you marry me?