The argument has always been that there's more bounce in California or more splash made in Florida. Nevertheless Texas, and specifically the Houston area, is holding its own when it comes to sending high school players to the Big Leagues. Certainly the Roger Clemens', the Carl Crawford's, the Josh Beckett's, the Andy Pettitte's, and the Adam Dunn's have been well documented when it comes to Houston-area players making The Show. However, as those players fly to the apex of their respective careers and gravity flings them back down to Earth to join us mortals, a new crop of superstars is rising to replace them - to usurp them as the face of Houston baseball.

Some five years ago, James Loney was rendering Houston journalists speechless as he flaunted his jaw-dropping skills around the city. I should know considering he led Baseball America's nationally ranked #1 Elkins Knights to a clean sweep over my team, the Kingwood Mustangs. Our team that year was widely regarded as the best that had ever come through Kingwood up to that point, and he just single-handedly stuck it to us, ripping doubles, tossing gems, running like the wind. I remember sitting on the bench wondering if there was anything this first round draft pick couldn't do. Turns out the LA Dodgers were sitting a few yards behind me wondering the same thing. So when Loney was selected with the #19 pick in the 2002 draft, nobody wondered if he would make it, only when. Very few were surprised last fall when the 22-year-old rookie stole the show from Nomar and Co., batting .750 with 3 RBI's against the Atlanta Braves in the first round of the playoffs.

James Loney is far from an anomaly when it comes to Houston baseball. There's never been any doubt when it comes to hoops or football which city in the South reigns, for one needs to look no further than Alief Elsik's Rashard Lewis and his recent $126 million contract with the Orlando Magic or this year's Madden '08 coverboy, and former Madison standout, Vince Young. Baseball however has been different, always competing with other Southern cities and states for the heralded #1 hotbed dubbing from scouts and magazines alike. Lately there hasn't been too much to hurt their cause. Kingwood's own Johnny Whittleman homered in the Future's Game at Pac Bell Park a few weeks ago; Loney's teammate at Elkins, Wardell Starling, posted a 2.80 ERA for Pittsburgh's AA affiliate Altoona last season; Cy-Falls' Scott Kazmir has notched 29 wins since making his debut as a 20-year-old in 2004 with the Devil Rays; and finally Bellaire's Chris Young sped through the Minor Leagues and is starting in center field for the Arizona Diamondbacks as a 23-year-old.

So, as you can see, Houston is breaking free from the national perception that football is king. There is no doubt where our city's bread is buttered, and that is undoubtedly on the gridiron, but the menu is slowly changing. While Major League Baseball delves into Latin America and Asia in search of the next Papi or Ichiro, I implore those in the know to look no further than the land of the Eighth World Wonder. Because while there may be more talent globally, I say there's nowhere else on Earth that raises young men to play baseball like the city of Houston. Have we learned nothing from the three current world champions in America's most popular sports? The San Antiono Spurs are a shining example of how meshing fundementally sound players with hard work equals success in the form of rings. The same goes for the St. Louis Cardinals and the Indianapolis Colts. Nary did those teams go purchase themselves a championship, rather building them piece by piece, part by part, until their well-oiled machines produced the prize.

And that's exactly the point - luring globally-renowned talent with millions of dollars might be sexy, which surely sells. But championships sell more illustriously, and the purchase of simple raw materials doesn't guarantee any of those. Houston players, however, are grounded and understand that hard work rules at the end of the day. This, in turn, results in a champion's mindset, an unwillingness to fail in a world of competition. Josh Beckett's World Series MVP and Roger Clemens' 450 wins are a pretty fantastic indication of that. These champions are made in the searing Houston heat, in the middle of the summer when their young counterparts are slaving away on Xbox's and Playstation's. They are made with 95-MPH fastballs and bloodied hands from days on end of work. You see, Houston baseball players don't back down from anyone or anything (see: Beckett's game six performance at Yankee Stadium in '03) and that's what makes them great. It's in their nature to compete and this fervor is nurtured until the day they hang 'em up. So you can have your multi-million dollar signing bonus, and I'll take my hard-working, swaggering Houstonian any day of the week.

It is fairly well-known that Texas is the land of lore, and it would be remiss to think that Houston baseball players didn't strive to achieve immortality via legends passed down from player to player, person to person. I would also be negligent to think that fans aren't all-together enthralled by these moments. From VY's back-to-back Rose Bowl's to Ben Crenshaw's "I have a dream" speech at the 1999 Ryder Cup, chilling moments like these are why we Texans love sports so much. 

In consideration of another one of these moments, the future looks bright as the torch is passed from Beckett to Loney, from Clemens to Whittleman. In May of 2005 Kingwood was playing Cy-Falls in the Regional Semifinal and the two teamswere locked in an eleven-inning war that had to be suspended early into the evening on account of Kingwood's forthcoming graduation ceremonies. The players went home and exchanged jersey's for gowns, partying late into the night even though the Cy-Falls game was to be completed early the next morning. One player however didn't participate in the night's festivities. Johnny Whittleman had a lot on his mind, as he was the first batter Kingwood would send to the plate when play resumed. So he turned in early, waking the next morning only to tell his parents that he was going to end the game on a first pitch fastball. Three hours and one pitch later an era was born.

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