Kurtenbach: Someone had to boo the cheating Astros in Oakland. So I did it.

OAKLAND — The Houston Astros brazenly broke the rules, so I figured I would too.

Because someone had to boo those cheats Friday night at the Coliseum.

So through my mask, and hopefully over the crowd noise and music that was being pumped into the stadium, I threw some boos and yells of “cheaters” Houston’s way.

I won’t lie to you. It felt good. But it would have been better had 40,000 A’s fans been able to do it instead. I guarantee it would have been more effective than my efforts.

The first rule of the press box is “no cheering,” so what I did Friday was in no way professional — not by those classical standards of journalism that I’ve never liked much. That said, no one ever mentioned anything about jeering. And regardless, I didn’t get into this silly racket because of my love of journalism. I’m in it because I love sports.

And the Astros offend me as a sports fan. They systematically and brazenly skirted the rules by stealing signs with a camera and then relaying what pitch was coming to hitters via a series of trash-can bangs, and then won a championship in the process.

The Astros’ indignation after being caught only took that offense to a new level. The things that players and management were saying were still being said by Astros fans on Twitter during the game. Most were keen to say that all teams cheat and that “thee without sin, cast the first stone.”

The problem with that is that the Astros would know what kind of stone I was about to cast.

I know A’s fans, on the whole, are livid about the Astros cheating. They, and fans of justice everywhere, chipped in to a GoFundMe that flew a “Houston Asterisks” banner around the Coliseum before the game. It was majestic.

There was even heckling from the end of the bridge that connects the Coliseum to the BART station.

But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

Major League Baseball didn’t punish any of the Astros players for their involvement in the scheme — they were granted immunity in exchange for testimony. Because of that terrible decision by commissioner Rob Manfred (what’s new), mob justice from the fans was necessary. And one man booing in the stadium is hardly a mob.

This year, those A’s fans and any other baseball fanbase with a sense of justice were going to give the Astros a piece of their mind. The booing, jeering, heckling, and sign-making that was going to be coming Houston’s way in 2020 was surely next-level stuff.

The pandemic robbed fans of their voice in ballparks this season. By the time fans can attend games again, the Astros scandal will be more than a year removed from the bombshell Athletic report that brought it to light. The anger won’t be as fresh. The jeers will still be there, but they won’t have as much bite. That’s not a criticism, it’s just the truth.

But I was in the ballpark Friday, so I left the makeshift press box (which is now just club seats in the lower bowl) and went over a few sections. Sitting in the back of section 123 — in a seat I’ve occupied more than a few times as a paying customer — I did my best to boo the Asterisks on behalf of everyone who wanted to be in the Coliseum on Friday night but wasn’t allowed in because of this damn virus.

I tried to let Jose Altuve and Alex Bregman know they were unrepentant cheats. Also, isn’t it strange that they’re slumping right now? Wonder what the buzz is there.

Yuli Gurriel, Josh Reddick, and Carlos Correa were not spared either.

Did it accomplish anything? No.

But someone had to let the Astros know that the fans have not forgotten or forgiven. I kept the booing going for a couple of innings. For good measure, I hit a trash can a few times on the way back to the press box.

I think I signaled curveball.