People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.
-Rogers Hornsby
"Opening Day." All you have to do is say the words, and you feel the shutters thrown wide, the room air out, the light pour in. In baseball, no other day is so pure with possibility. No scores yet, no losses, no blame or disappointment. No hangover, at least until the game's over.
-Mary Schmich
Dear Dave,
It's the most wonderful time of the year. Spring is here, and therefore so is baseball. Don't those two things correspond so perfectly together? Most of us have persisted through the long, cold, dark season; indeed - perhaps some of us even a long, cold, and dark season of life. Well the rejuvenation of spring and the ubiquitous optimism found at Spring Training provide us with hope. As an aspiring therapist, I would like to advocate baseball's therapeutic quality. This is especially true when your team wins it all. For the second straight year, the Royals have taken part in the shortest off-season, this time basking in the glory of a championship rather than the agony of just coming up short. Dave, I could get very used to this.
It has now been only five months since Wade Davis threw that fateful last strike, and as the beginning of the 2016 season looms, I've become aware of a kind of ambivalence that I am feeling. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled that baseball is here again and remain bullish about my team's chances to put together another postseason run. But take it from me, the year your team wins a championship, the off-season is one of the best parts. You simply remain on top of the mountain and reflect upon the beauty and grandeur of the hike. If Spring Training is a house salad, the 162-game regular season a perfectly-cooked filet mignon, and the playoffs the sweet custardy creme brulee, then the off-season is a tall shot of limoncello with which to chase it all down. It's not the sexy part of the meal, but it serves to solidify the meal's greatness. You just sit there in the aftermath of a transcendent experience, sipping it slowly, wholly satisfied and content, while reflecting upon the food-gasm you just had. In sports, the memories are your palette-cleanser, and the off-season gives you the space and time with which to muse.
I've been very intentional to remember as often as I can. I have watched highlights of the Royals' playoff run more times than you can imagine, and I still get chills every single time. I went home for the holidays and not once, but twice stayed up past two in the morning with my brother watching Games 1 and 5 of the World Series. My cube at work is a shrine to the 2015 Kansas City Royals. Posters of Drew Butera jumping into the arms of Wade Davis, as well as the sea of blue that overran our city the day of the parade adorn my walls. Every day since November 1 for me has been as a sacrament to the victory, just shy of turning towards Kansas City and praying. Now I am forced to move on, as the next meal is on the horizon, and there is always a chance you can follow up Ruth's Chris with Denny's. And like my stomach, Father Time seems to have no regard for my nostalgia's desire to savor this. It mercilessly and relentlessly presses on. Instead of resting in the greatness that was 2015, I am forced to look ahead to a new chapter.
Denny's. Why would anyone go to Denny's, Dave? Grand slam?? How dare they profane the name of one of the most sacred moments in baseball by associating it with shitty food! Grand slam. They should call it Hitting Into the Inning-Ending Double-Play Meal. As it relates to baseball, I feel as though I've been proverbially eating at Denny's all of my life. And now, in the past two years, I've had the pleasure of eating at Michelin star-winning restaurants. I can't go back, Dave. I won't.
And I don't think I will be - at least not this season. Though we had to say goodbye to our trade rentals Johnny Cueto and Ben Zobrist (have fun falling in love with Zobrist by the way), who were unquestionably vital to the Royals' success, we return the core group of players that took the AL Central division by storm in 2015 and uncorked magic time and time again in the playoffs en route to winning it all. The Royals still closely resemble that team that hoisted the trophy on November 1.
The organization had a busy off-season, refusing to rest on their laurels. The fan base rejoiced when Alex Gordon surprised everyone by re-signing with the Royals in a 4-year, $72-million contract. Even more surprising was the move to sign starting pitcher Ian Kennedy to a 5-year, $70 million deal. That's a lot of money for an innings-eater with only one truly great season on his dossier. Though we lost reliever Ryan Madson, who was an integral part of Kansas City's dominant 2015 bullpen, we brought back the original dominant KC closer Joakim Soria on a 3-year, $25 million deal. We also in an unprecedented move re-structured Salvador Perez's insanely team-friendly contract. What was originally a 5-year, $7 million deal, with three more years of club options totaling $19.75 million in 2012 is now 5 additional years at $52 million. The organization by no means had to do this, but they did - largely because Dayton Moore views his players as human beings, and it was quite simply the right thing to do. For a three-time all-star, two-time Gold Glove award-winning catcher, and World Series MVP, as well as the heartbeat of what is the most tight-knit clubhouse in all of baseball, I would say he's worth every penny. Everyone is fat and happy in Kansas City, Salvador Perez notwithstanding. This is all to say that the Royals are reaching deeper into the Glass family's pockets than we ever could have imagined they went. It typifies the level of commitment this small-market organization has made to the city and the team, as well as just how much they value winning. I hope the investments prove fruitful for yet another season.
But enough about my team. I'd love to get your thoughts on the most talked-about team in baseball right now - your Chicago Cubs. How much fun was their surprise season last year and winning a playoff series against the Cardinals? Isn't winning the Wild Card game incredible? What are your prognostications for 2016? I reckon there are Cubs fans who have lived and died during these 108 years of drought who have perhaps not seen a team as promising as the 2016 Cubs. Taking the off-season acquisitions and the youth of the team's core into consideration, the Cubs look to me to be a team that is primed to contend for championships for the better part of a decade!
Our teams very nearly met in the Classic last year. ESPN analyst Buster Olney picked them to this year. Now wouldn't that be something? It is a fun time to be a Cubs and a Royals fan.
Dear Drew,
How could I ever match your eloquence when it comes to musings on baseball and life? I'll offer my humble attempt, knowing that a prerequisite for such profound thoughts could very well be a taste of the World Series "creme brûlée" you've recently tasted. Although I might have to disagree on one point, to carry on with your metaphor: the Denny's Grand Slam breakfast isn't all that bad. (Although that assertion comes from this Cubs fan who has grown accustomed to mediocrity over his entire life.) But that could all change this year...as I've been saying to everyone: I'm cautiously optimistic about my Cubs.
Springtime is for optimists. Back in the Midwest, where (unlike your current home of SoCal) we have endured the long winter months, signs of new life are appearing. The days are getting longer, the weather growing warmer. Everyone's moods are shifting, subtly but noticeably. But personally, I've endured the most difficult season of my life, filled with long, dark nights of uncertainty and deep grief. Quite frankly, I've been counting down the days until baseball and spring, because for me, baseball is so much more than a game. Baseball represents joy, optimism, and endless possibility. I totally agree with you: baseball is therapy. And it's poetically fitting that the baseball season begins in the spring. In fact, there's a poem that communicates my sentiments perfectly:
It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.
- Bartlett Giamatti, from "The Green Fields of the Mind"
So here we finally are. Opening Day. Quite far away from the agony of last October. Every player is miraculously "in the best shape of his life." Every team says they have a shot at winning it all. But this year, the reason my hope abounds is because the Cubs are World Series FAVORITES. I mean...what?! I've never experienced this before in my short 30 years of Cubs devotion. My optimism for the Cubs this year is actually realistic. And I hope and I pray that somehow this optimism and joy might bleed into the other spheres of my life.
It's hard to believe it was only two years ago that you and I, along with your dad and others, met in Arizona for a spring training game featuring the Cubs and Royals. Much has changed since then, in our lives and in our favorite teams. At the time, both teams were terrible, and I remember both of us focusing on the up and coming prospects that played in that game instead of the veteran Major Leaguers. Well now, as you mentioned, it's not unrealistic to imagine our teams meeting in October.
It's all changed in two short (but paradoxically) long years. THAT is why baseball is for optimists, my friend. That is why spring is a season for optimists.
I'm currently writing this on a flight out to LA. Very shortly, I'll have the great fortune of seeing you in person...and I look forward to catching up and having some robust In N Out burgers together. Moreover, I'm absolutely giddy with excitement because we're going to see the Cubs on Opening Day in Anaheim. Arrieta on the mound, along with newcomers Ben Zobrist and Jason Heyward in the revamped lineup...no doubt about it, this team is freaking stacked. What a way to experience my first ever Opening Day game...in your company nonetheless!
See you soon my friend,
Dave
So here we finally are. Opening Day. Quite far away from the agony of last October. Every player is miraculously "in the best shape of his life." Every team says they have a shot at winning it all. But this year, the reason my hope abounds is because the Cubs are World Series FAVORITES. I mean...what?! I've never experienced this before in my short 30 years of Cubs devotion. My optimism for the Cubs this year is actually realistic. And I hope and I pray that somehow this optimism and joy might bleed into the other spheres of my life.
It's hard to believe it was only two years ago that you and I, along with your dad and others, met in Arizona for a spring training game featuring the Cubs and Royals. Much has changed since then, in our lives and in our favorite teams. At the time, both teams were terrible, and I remember both of us focusing on the up and coming prospects that played in that game instead of the veteran Major Leaguers. Well now, as you mentioned, it's not unrealistic to imagine our teams meeting in October.
It's all changed in two short (but paradoxically) long years. THAT is why baseball is for optimists, my friend. That is why spring is a season for optimists.
I'm currently writing this on a flight out to LA. Very shortly, I'll have the great fortune of seeing you in person...and I look forward to catching up and having some robust In N Out burgers together. Moreover, I'm absolutely giddy with excitement because we're going to see the Cubs on Opening Day in Anaheim. Arrieta on the mound, along with newcomers Ben Zobrist and Jason Heyward in the revamped lineup...no doubt about it, this team is freaking stacked. What a way to experience my first ever Opening Day game...in your company nonetheless!
See you soon my friend,
Dave
