Astros outfield deck We see George and Barbara down there near home plate, a looming, presidential presence behind every televised pitch. They don't know what they're missing. Way up here in the nosebleed section, we've got the whole damn north 40 to ourselves. We can stretch out and curse without offending small children. And since the seats set us back only five bucks, that leaves lots of cash for beer and dogs. And more cursing. If only the team on the field looked as consistently pretty as the skyline out the left-field window, this would be heaven (of course, it seems like we're already at that altitude anyhow).