Correspondence Between a Cubs Fan and a Royals Fan - Part 3: The All Star Break

The only bad thing about winning the pennant is that you have to manage the All-Star Game the next year. I'd rather go fishing for three days. -Whitey Herzog

Dear Dave,

Happy Independence Day, my friend! Although there are several personality traits of our country currently that I will not count as points of pride (Hillary and Trump…really, America? Really??), I will always remain proud of baseball - our nation’s pastime and something simultaneously beautiful and also quintessentially American. All I want to do right now is watch Sandlot, eat apple pie, and reminisce about 1776, or as I like to refer to them, “the good old days”.

So much has happened since I last wrote to you, and yet the state of things seems to have remained much the same. At 35 games in, the Royals were 6.5 games back in the division. Now, at 80 games in, we find ourselves 6 games back - albeit to the Cleveland Indians instead of the Chicago White Sox. Your Cubs, then 19 games above .500, now find themselves just 21 games above .500. Mirroring life, there have been mountains in the past 45 games…and there have certainly been valleys. The undulations could stand to be smoothed; Jesus, take the wheel!

Here is a bit of a recap of what has happened during this time from KC’s camp:

On Friday, May 27, the Royals hosted the White Sox for a 3-game series over the weekend. It was the best weekend of regular season baseball I have watched in my life. On Friday night, down 5-2 late, the Royals scored in the sixth, seventh, and eighth innings to win the game 7-5. Then, on Saturday, the unthinkable happened. This time, down 7-1 in the ninth inning, they would go on to score seven runs in the bottom of the ninth to walk off with a victory. The chance of victory was literally one in a thousand, and they pulled it off. Afterward, I went back and watched the Chicago broadcast of the bottom of the ninth, just so that I could witness Hawk Harrelson’s steady incredulous, melancholic descent into madness. As if that magic wasn’t enough, the Royals came from behind again on Sunday afternoon. This time, biding their time against the future AL Cy Young winner Chris Sale, they scored three runs in the bottom of the eighth against a weak Chicago bullpen in order to win 5-4. That’s three come-from-behind victories in what was at the time a crucial series against the hated, at the time division-leading White Sox. The Royals continue to have an uncanny penchant for late-game heroics.

Following that, the Royals would go on to sweep the Tampa Bay Rays, closing out a six game win streak which would put them 2.5 games in front of the division. It was short-lived. Following the Tampa series, the Royals went on the road to Cleveland for a four-game series. In the first game, they took a one-run lead into the ninth inning and would end up getting Royaled by the Indians for a loss. Having gotten so used to the kind of bullpen that quite literally does not allow runs in late innings, I was left in the wake of that loss struggling to identify the emotions one feels when losing a game late. I believe the technical term for it is choking, and it sucks. It was the start of a disastrous eight-game losing streak. They followed that up by winning eight games out of nine. Momentum is a funny thing, and the Royals have either enjoyed it or fallen prey to it perhaps more than the average bear this season.

The injury bug has continued to bite this team. A collision between left-fielder Alex Gordon and third-baseman Mike Moustakas on a foul popup left Gordon on the disabled list with a broken hand and Moustakas out for the year with torn ligaments in his knee - an incident I know that you as a Cubs fan can empathize with. Then, the very Saturday afternoon game I referenced earlier in which the Royals came back to score seven runs in the bottom of the ninth against the Sox, our all-star catcher and World Series MVP Salvador Perez was injured in a similar collision with replacement third-baseman Cheslor Cuthbert. Several games ago, Lorenzo Cain had to be put on the 15-day disabled list thanks to a hamstring strain when attempting to leg out an infield single. And I just literally watched as starting pitcher Yordano Ventura twisted his ankle on the base paths after singling in a National League game against the Phillies. He had to be removed from the game. It feels like the remarkable health the Royals have enjoyed these past two seasons has finally caught up with them and compounded in 2016. Baseball truly is a 162-game battle of attrition - a battle the Royals are currently losing decisively.

Meanwhile, the Cleveland Indians have been running away with the division. Their win in a 19-inning marathon against the Toronto Blue Jays on Friday afternoon culminated a 15-game winning streak that began just after Kansas City swept them at home. The significance of such a streak can’t be overstated. If Cleveland simply played .500 ball for the rest of their 147 games, they would end the year with about 89 wins, which can potentially win a division.

Normally, I’d be okay with Cleveland doing so well. I recently watched the documentary Believeland, which chronicles the city’s much-maligned sports history of the past half century. At the time, the Cavs were down 3-1 to the Warriors, and yet another heartbreak seemed imminent for the northeast Ohio faithful. But then we all bore witness to the remarkable comeback that broke Cleveland’s curse and emphatically pushed LeBron into the game’s Mt. Rushmore of elite players. I know that one championship does not make up for a city’s 50-year plight, but as the curse was washed away, so too went my sympathy. Call me heartless, but I no longer care. That’s the fan in me talking. As Cleveland has showed themselves to be a worthy adversary in the AL Central, I find myself seething with the animosity that comes from feeling legitimately threatened. And yes, I do mean that as a sort of compliment. In sports, you should always feel a sense of pride when people start to hate you; it means you’re doing something very right.

Nonetheless, good things have been taking shape as well. Alex Gordon is back healthy and looks better than he did before the injury. Kendrys Morales, who a month ago had struggled mightily at the plate - a luxury that can be ill afforded to a team’s designated hitter, has completely turned things around. Beginning June 25, Kendrys has gone 19-31 at the plate, with six homeruns. The manner in which he has carried the team throughout that stretch has led to my dubbing him “The Offense”. Danny Duffy, our young left-handed starting pitcher who has historically struggled with command and efficiency, all of a sudden looks like the second coming of Cliff Lee. He once could not get to the seventh inning if his life depended upon it; now he has had consecutive games in which he has gone 8+ innings and walked 0. Baseball old-timers will tell you that sometimes left-handed pitchers take a while to develop their command. Personally, that sounds like crotchety old, unfounded baseball speak to me, but Danny Duffy seems to be undergoing such a chrysalis. This could be incredibly significant because, while the Royals are 6 games back of their division, they are a mere half game back in the Wild Card currently. If they were to have to play in the sudden-death game again, Danny Duffy’s emergence as a dominant pitcher could mean the difference between the season’s conjunction or its period.

That’s the scuttlebutt on my boys. How about your Cubs? Let’s get the obvious out on the table: the Cubs are struggling - relative to the Cubs, of course. You won’t truly know struggling until your club loses eight straight. But yesterday’s loss culminated a 4-game sweep at the hands of the hated Metropolitans, in which the Cubs were outscored 32-11. The Mets just seem to be the Cubs’ kryptonite. They are now 8-0 against the Cubs dating back to last year’s NLCS playoffs. Of all the National League juggernauts to fear, I would imagine Cubs fans may be most intimidated by the prospect of meeting the Mets in the playoffs a second straight year. It’s been said that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Here in Southern California, I am amongst Cubs fans and Dodgers fans. Throw me, a Royals fan in there, and you have every team who the Mets had to face last year in the postseason. Our collective hatred of New York's red-headed stepchild has been a very organic thing to share a bonding experience over.

Despite the Cubs’ struggles, it has been an absolute pleasure owning Cubs players on my fantasy team. I’ve been proactive in acquiring three of the Cubs’ big boppers - Anthony Rizzo, Kris Bryant, and Willson Contreras. Even now, as I watch the Independence Day game against the Reds, I just literally saw Bryant and Contreras go deep in the same inning. Bryant seems to be transforming into a bonafide superstar before our very eyes. Just a week ago, he became the first player in Major League history to hit three home runs and two doubles in a game. When all is said and done, it will probably be the most impressive offensive performance from the 2016 season. As good as the legitimate MVP contender has been, Bryant still plays second fiddle offensively to his teammate Anthony Rizzo, as evidenced by Rizzo’s team-leading 1.006 OPS (Bryant is of course second, with .962).

There has been a lot of hubbub circulating around the prospect of the Cubs making a significant trade in order to acquire bullpen depth. Two names from the Yankees have been thrown out early and often - setup man Andrew Miller and closer Aroldis Chapman. Both are power left-handed arms and elite relievers who could complement Hector Rondon quite nicely. Rumor has it that the Yankees are going to drive a hard bargain for the acquisition of either - most likely Kyle Schwarber, who as we recall is out this season with torn knee ligaments in an injury akin to Mike Moustakas’ collision. I don’t know how you as a Cubs fan view it, but I don’t like the idea of the Cubs dealing Schwarber at all. I know that Schwarber seems like the perfect fit to hit in the American League, with the designated-hitter, but he’s also a power-hitting left-handed bat…in other words, precious baseball gold. The Schwarbers of the world are heaven-sent, and re-gifting them is like spitting in God’s face. In addition to wanting to avoid offending the Creator, there is pragmatism in keeping Schwarber as well. The Cubs have to consider sustaining this team’s future success, and I personally see Schwarber as a significant part of that success, in solidifying a viable “murderer’s row” in the lineup for years to come. If the Cubs can acquire either pitcher for the likes of Addison Russell or Javier Baez, then by all means, but don't trade Schwarber, who again, was knitted in his mother's womb to become a great hitter, packaged by angels with a big blue ribbon on top, and sent to Cubs nation with a note that reads, “We thought you might need this. You’re welcome.”

Dear Drew,

As I write this, I’m watching the Cubs play the Pirates. Jake Arrieta is on the same mound on which he dominated Pittsburgh in the Wild Card game last October. But right now, Arrieta…and the entire Cubs team for that matter, don’t resemble anything close to a playoff team. In fact, I’d say that this particular game is a microcosm of the Cubs’ last month: bad starting pitching, no clutch hitting, inconsistent relief pitching, and just a noticeable lack of swagger overall. They are crappy in every facet of the game, and somehow, the crappiness is contagious. I hate contagious crap.

Yes, I agree with you the Cubs are very much struggling, but not just by their own standards…I’d argue by any standard. They’ve now lost seven of eight, 13 of their last 18. (worst in the NL during the span) For the first 67 games of 2016, Cubs starting pitchers allowed 30 home runs. In the last 19 games, they’ve allowed 26. The Cubs are 4-28 when scoring less than 4 runs. I could go on with more stats, but you get the point: the Cubs have been a mediocre team for about a month now. Cubs President Theo Epstein said recently, “Honestly it’s just a baseball reality. It's impossible to win at the pace we were winning at early in the season the whole year. Every team, even championship-caliber clubs, go through a month or so where they play .500 or so baseball, and that's what we're doing. It's not surprising.”

They say a team is never really as amazing as it is during its best winning streaks, and it’s never as awful as it is during its worst losing streaks. In fact, I even apply this motto to life: life isn’t actually as amazing as it is during its best moments, but it’s not as awful as it is during its worst moments. The reality is, life is somewhere in-between those two extremes. And in my mind, I know the Cubs are somewhere in-between the two extremes we’ve experienced this year. They aren’t the juggernaut we saw the first month of the season, but they’re also not the lovable losers we’ve seen the last month. However, as a Cubs fan, my heart tells me this isn’t just “a baseball reality,” but The Curse taking effect once again. At one point does regression end and a new normal set in? Yes, it’s too early to panic, but as a Cubs fan, my cautious optimism has always been remarkably fragile. I’m not going to lie to you: my “unabated enthusiasm” from when I last wrote has turned to great concern.

So as we reach this year’s All-Star break, the unofficial halfway point of the season, I’m honestly wondering whether this team is still one year away from being legitimate World Series contenders. After all, this team is still quite young, we’re missing Schwarber, and the bullpen clearly has holes. And that leads me to your musings on Schwarber and our potential trade partner, the Yankees. I’m totally with you, I would not trade him for Andrew Miller. A lefty power bat is just far too valuable, and not even a dominant lefty reliever is worth that. Now, if the Cubs can find another way to land Miller, then I’m all for it (especially since I traded for him in fantasy), but I don’t think they should play this too aggressively. This team has years of highly competitive baseball in it, and I’d hate to see Epstein and GM Jed Hoyer jeopardize that future for this one season. If we can keep this nucleus intact, 2016 should only be the beginning.

A few concluding thoughts about my team: ironically, while the Cubs have collectively been at their worst in the past few weeks, Kris Bryant has been at his absolute best. As of this writing, he leads the National League with 25 home runs, and I’d argue that he is the first half NL MVP. I wish he was on my fantasy team too, because holy crap…this dude is for real. And he has dreamy eyes. But I do want to mention one guy that IS on my fantasy team, and that’s Dexter Fowler. He’s been on the DL for a few weeks now, and I think it’s no coincidence that that the Cubs have struggled during the same timespan. Fowler’s on-base abilities are vital to this team, not to mention his presence just makes this lineup deeper. He has been sorely missed, and I hope that his post-All Star break return makes a considerable difference. One thing is for sure…if the Cubs hadn’t re-signed Fowler over the offseason, this would be a very different team. The Cubs would also be a very different team without the emerging young talent of catcher/outfielder Wilson Contreras. I’ve been waiting for this guy ever since the Cubs’ “first wave” of prospects hit the big leagues last year. The fact that he’s been our everyday cleanup hitter says it all. Contreras can just hit. Add in his above-average defensive skills, and you’re potentially looking at one of the best catchers in baseball for years to come.

Now about your Royals…I must admit I’ve sort of unconsciously written them off since we last wrote. I was camping in the Smoky Mountains when I caught a brief moment of reception and received your cryptic text saying Moustakas was out for the year. You’re correct, I absolutely felt significant empathy for you when I received that news, and I could even detect your distress and despair through text. Losing an important player like that almost makes you sick to your stomach, especially when (like the Royals) there isn’t offensive depth on the roster to compensate for the loss. In the past month, the Royals seemingly have been buried in the standings.

That said, I don’t think the Indians are really this good. So since I invested all my pessimistic energy already into writing about the Cubs, let me know offer you some optimistic words of encouragement. As of this writing, the Royals are only 7.5 games back of the Indians, and there’s no way the Indians can continue the recent hot streak they’ve been on. In fact, odds are great that they won’t ever be this hot again this season. (It’s hard to top a 15-game winning streak!) Just take a look at that Indians lineup: it’s not that good. They’ve had several players all overachieving at once. I predict the Indians will slide enough to keep the Royals and Tigers in the mix. And even if the Indians don’t regress…the Royals are merely 2.5 games out of the Wild Card race. And if you need the best case for optimism, here it is: the 2014 Royals had a record of 48-46 at the All Star break, and they made it to the World Series…and nearly won. I think it’s safe to say they’ll have similar record at this year’s break. There’s still hope.

Yes, there’s still hope for your struggling Royals and my faltering Cubs. The optimism of March and April has quickly faded, and the realities of the 162-game marathon have set in. But just as things can negatively change on a dime, so can things quickly change in a positive way. I’m looking forward to all that the second half of the season has in store…both the ups and downs!

Correspondence Between a Cubs Fan and a Royals Fan - Part 2: The Quarter Turn

The key to winning baseball games is pitching, fundamentals, and three-run homers. - Earl Weaver

















Dear Dave,

I write to you thirty-five games into the baseball season, from the perspective of a throne whose polish and luster is quickly fading. The Royals have lost twelve of their last seventeen and find themselves 6.5 games back of those south-siders opposite your beloved Cubs. I once would've been very okay...maybe even pleased with being just one game under .500 at this point in the season. But 17-18 is the epitome of mediocrity, and mediocrity will not do for a team that has been to consecutive World Series and ran away with the AL Central division just last year. This team is in desperate need of dusting off the cobwebs and rediscovering how to be championship-caliber.

A lot has not exactly gone according to plan, and one might have said there were ominous signs on the horizon, even after the Royals' 8-2 start. The offense had struggled to that point, and there had been many tight victories that had been won on the shoulders of some surprisingly great starting pitching. But that mirage is no longer in tact. Kansas City flirted with danger when deciding to install 36 year-old Chris Young and Kris Medlen, fresh off his second Tommy John surgery, as their fourth and fifth starters in the rotation. Both pitchers have struggled and currently find themselves on the disabled list. Yordano Ventura, who is not elderly, nor has he undergone any surgeries, was supposed to establish himself as a reliable power pitcher. Instead, he has shown himself only to be as volatile with command of the strike zone as he is in temperament. In the past three seasons, his velocity has slowly decreased, his ERA steadily increased, and his strikeout to walk ratio in 2016 is a miserable 26:28. What was once a pitcher who showed remarkable promise now looks more lost than ever. Any hope a fan once had in his developing into a staff ace has since dissipated.

The offense hasn't been much better. Lorenzo Cain, Kendrys Morales, and Alex Gordon - three middle-of-the-order guys, have all gotten off to slow starts. Gordon's has perhaps been most frustrating, after having signed his four-year deal in the offseason. The one bright shining spot in the lineup is Eric Hosmer, whose robust .338 average appears to be a stark anomaly from the rest of the lineup. To make matters worse, Mike Moustakas, first on the team with 7 homeruns and second in OPS (.850), recently went on the 15-day disabled list with a broken thumb. When it rains, it pours.

Lately, as the Royals have gotten good pitching, their offense has sputtered. When the offense has resurrected, the pitching has been lifeless. Whether high-scoring or low-scoring, the Royals are finding ways to lose many of the close games they seemed to have an uncanny knack for winning in past years.

And so I find myself in that dreaded situation I prophesied before the season began. It's not quite so bad as Denny's...more like Chile's. There's nothing inherently wrong with Chile's. Chile's is in fact supremely average, and sometimes it can hit the spot when you either haven't eaten out in a long while or you're perfectly happy to concede away an average dining experience. There is merit to Chile's. But as I referenced in our last correspondence, it's simply hard to find yourself staring at your uber-sugary strawberry lemonade and slightly overcooked burger when your last memory was medium-rare filet and limoncello. Regression is depressing.

But there remain 127 games left in this 2016 baseball saga, and I withhold hope that my team's amnesia will lift soon, and they will remember what it's like to play like champions.

I tried to condense that as best I could because the bigger story by far between our two teams is not the Royals' early ineptitude but the Cubs' sheer and utter dominance. It is not very surprising that they have asserted themselves this early as the best team in baseball, but the way they have done it to the degree of superiority over their opponents has been nothing short of jaw-dropping.

I've watched a fair amount of Cubs baseball this season - in part because the Cubs were the team I cheered for while I resided in Chicago for eight years - my official National League team, and also because my roommate, who you've met, is a huge Cubs fan. I in fact just got done watching their latest victory - a quintessential 8-2 drubbing of the Pirates - an above .500 team that the Cubs have not yet lost to in five games so far this season. Reigning Cy Young winner Jake Arrieta, who we've taken to calling "The Beast", was on the mound. He went 8 innings, struck out 11, gave up 2 earned runs, and saw his ERA balloon to 1.29, leaving me wondering what the hell's wrong with Jake today?? With his performance, he's now given up 3 earned runs or less in 28 straight starts - the longest such streak of a starting pitcher since 1893, neatly wedged in between the Civil War and the First World War. They'll go for the double-sweep tomorrow to make it 6-0.

I say "quintessential" because, in taking into account the many Cubs games I have watched this season, if I could pick a generic score that best represents the 2016 Cubbies, it would be an 8-2 win. I feel as though the Cubs routinely score around 8 runs and nearly as routinely give up less than 3. They almost never lose, and when they win, it's rarely a close game. In fact, in the Cubs' 27 victories thus far, Hector Rondon has only been left with 7 save opportunities, of which he's converted every one. For the baseball-illiterate, a save means closing a game out by 3 runs or less. To only have 7 saves in 27 wins is kind of silly. By comparison, Jeanmar Gomez, the closer for the 21-15 Philadelphia Phillies, has 14 saves.

The Cubs are currently 27-8, just 1 game away from being 20 games above .500. The 2015 American League second wild card team - the Houston Astros - ended the year 10 games above .500. The team with the best record in 2015 - the St. Louis Cardinals - ended the year 100-62, 38 games above .500. The Cubs are already halfway to that mark, and we're barely over a fifth of the way through the season. They are currently on pace to win 125 games and lose 37, which would shatter the 2001 Seattle Mariners' record of 116-46.

But records can be deceiving - especially records this young in the season. Let's take a quick look at the manner in which the Cubs' record has taken shape. The 2015 Cubs went 97-65 for the third best record in Major League Baseball. Throughout the course of the season, they scored 689 runs and allowed 608, for a run differential of +81. The 2016 Cubs have already scored 213 runs, second only to Boston's 219, and the Red Sox have the luxury of playing with the designated hitter in the American League, as well as having played 2 more games than Chicago. Undoubtedly the Cubs would be above that mark were their pitchers not batting every ninth spot in the order. Oh, and they've done all this without Kyle Schwarber, who was lost for the year with torn knee ligaments in a collision with center-fielder Dexter Fowler. Defensively, the Cubs have only allowed 103 runs, which is least in the major leagues. This adds up to an absurd run differential of +110, best in baseball by 52. That's right: in just over a fifth of the year played, the Cubs have eclipsed their run differential of 2015, when they featured the third best record in the league, by 29 runs. For all those who believe that the Cubs have been slightly lucky this far, the Pythagorean Theorem actually states based on their differential that they should be 28-7, a game above where they currently find themselves. If anything, they have been slightly unlucky.

The Cubs are averaging over 6 runs per game - best in the majors. Their average margin of victory is 4.9 runs, which means they're obliterating their opponents. Several of those were also "close" wins due to the Cubs being so far ahead that some of the low-end relievers allowed the opposition back in the game. That's actually not true. They were never in the game...not for one moment.

We all know about the lineup, which has been as advertised as a murderer's row. Fowler, Zobrist, Rizzo, and Bryant have all been tremendous. Even the wiry, baby-faced Addison Russell is beginning to tear the cover off the ball! But what's been most impressive for the 2016 Cubs has undoubtedly been their starting pitching. The Cubs currently have three of the top ten starting pitchers in ERA. That would be Jake Arrieta (1st - 1.27), Jason Hammel (6th - 1.77), and Jon Lester (10th - 1.96). It makes sense that the Cubs are performing this well with elite hitting and elite starting pitching. This has rendered the one possible Achilles heel of the team - middle relief - nearly inconsequential. Opponents only have about one or two innings after the starter is removed to take advantage of a Cubs relief pitcher, and by then they're usually down 4 or more runs. And if by some reason it is in fact a close game, Maddon can turn it over in the ninth to one of the best closers in the game in Hector Rondon. This is not a recipe for success; it's a recipe for complete domination.

In the middle of all of this is Ben Zobrist - the bridge linking my team to yours. Zobrist was a trade deadline acquisition for the Royals last season and proved to be invaluable to our championship run. Time and time again, he would put together a crucial at-bat when we needed it most in the playoffs. I miss that man. The Cubs signed Zobrist in the offseason and now enjoy the fruits of his labor in the middle of their lineup. He got particularly hot in the middle of the Cubs' four-game sweep of the Washington Nationals, in which he went 6-13, with 3 homeruns. I smile when I think about how much fun he's had in the last two years. Think about it. He began 2015 and played much of the season with a struggling Oakland Athletic team. He then was traded to the American League front-runner Kansas City Royals and proceeded to win a championship in a magical postseason run that featured 8 come-from-behind wins. Now he finds himself on another, different sort of magical team, that collectively has the opportunity to set baseball records together. Shortly following Kansas City's championship last season, Zobrist's wife gave birth to a daughter. They named her Blaise Royal. Perhaps their next child will have the pleasure of being named Cub.

I await your unabated enthusiasm...

Dear Drew,

Is this real life? Seriously, somebody pinch me. The first month of the 2016 Cubs season has been nothing short of magical, miraculous, joyful, triumphant, euphoric…I’m running out of words, but you get the picture. Never before in my life have I witnessed a Cubs team like this. I’ve labored through over two decades of Cubs fandom, and I’ve grown very accustomed to Denny’s-like mediocrity, or worse. What the Cubs are doing right now is a once-in-a-generation spectacle…maybe even a once-in-a-century spectacle. You’ve done well in statistically summarizing the Cubs historic dominance. Yes, they are currently on pace to be one of the greatest, if not THE greatest team of all-time. Of course, it’s way too early to assume anything, but the statistical evidence is there. So instead of elaborating any further on the Cubs statistical dominance (although trust me, I’d love to dive into some nerdy peripheral sabermetrics like BABIP, WAR, FIP, XFIP, etc.) I’m going to simply describe to you how this team makes me FEEL. Because, really that’s what ultimately matters about sports fandom. I’m going to give you what Stephen Colbert famously calls “truthiness,” a hyperbolic assertion that comes from the gut rather than pure fact/data. And in doing so, maybe you can live vicariously through my euphoria as your Royals continue their World Series hangover.

The Royals…that’s a good place to start with my truthiness. Are the Cubs this year’s Royals? When I compare the two teams, there seems to be a certain intangible magic at play. Last year’s Royals had an uncanny knack of always coming through in the clutch. You just always had a feeling that they were never truly out of a game…in fact, you almost came to EXPECT them to pull off a miracle. That’s exactly what is happening with this year’s Cubs. Case in point: opening night at Wrigley Field. I was there with my dad, freezing my butt off in freezing wind chills. The atmosphere was October-like, and not just because of the chill. The crowd was buzzing at the beginning, especially when Kyle Schwarber hobbled out of the dugout for his introduction. (more on Schwarber in a moment) But the buzz wore off gradually over the course of the game, as former Royals World Series hero Brandon Finnegan no-hit the Cubs deep into the game. But then the 8th inning…oh my. Addison Russell (seriously, is he REALLY seven years younger than me?!) hit a go-ahead home run when all seemed lost. My dad and I were jumping and screaming like little kids. It was miraculous, but it summed up the magic of this team. The 2016 Cubs are never truly out of it.

So back to Schwarber. Turns out, when you and I saw him and the Cubs on Opening Day in Anaheim, we saw one of his only three games of 2016. Just days later, he blew out his knee in a collision with Dexter Fowler. And when the news came out that he was gone for the year, it was a huge blow to the psyche of every Cubs fan. Schwarber isn’t just a good player; he embodies the joy, excitement, and swagger of this Cubs team. When Schwarber went down, it felt like the good magic had evaporated, and the dreaded black magic of the infamous Curse was working its power again. But again, that’s what’s so incredible about this team. They seemingly haven’t missed Schwarber at all. Sure, the lineup would be more imposing with him. Of course. Would the Cubs have a better record? Maybe. But there’s no disputing it…the Cubs have tremendous depth. (which could be even further tested if Jason Heyward’s injury costs him time on the DL) Kris Bryant’s versatility in the outfield combined with Javy Baez’s emergence has more than compensated for Schwarber’s loss. In previous years, losing a significant player like Schwarber would have sunk the Cubs. But not this year. This year is different.

Personally, this year is different for a fun personal reason: my mom is 100% devoted to this team. (and I hope she’s reading this) I’m very proud of her commitment to this team, because she was a devoted Cubs fan way before I was, back in the days of Ron Santo, Billy Williams, and Fergie Jenkins. Group texting with my parents during nearly every game has become a really fun way to experience this team, especially when my mom gets excited about one of our favorite new players, Ben Zobrist. (who we all affectionately refer to as “Zoby”)

Drew, you are quite correct in pinpointing Zoby as the link between our two teams. Plain and simple, this guy knows how to win, and his patience at the plate is infectious…he brings a winning culture to any team he’s a part of. Ok, only one nerdy stat: from 2009-20012, Ben Zobrist had the best, most robust WAR (wins above replacement) of any position player in baseball. Translation: he was arguably the most valuable non-pitcher in that time period. And I’d argue he still is incredibly valuable, even at the ripe old age of 35. In fact, his power numbers suggest he’s getting even better with age. Drew, I remember you telling me during the offseason that I was going to fall in love with Zoby. I was a little skeptical of the signing at first, because I still (somehow) believed in Starlin Castro. But two months into the season, it’s clear: Zoby is a huge upgrade over Castro.

So there you have it: that just about sums up how I feel about my beloved Cubs at the one-quarter mark of the 2016 season. The Cubs have provided me with joy at a time in my life in which I’ve very much needed it. They have delivered on the pre-season hope and optimism that I wrote about previously. There’s a long way to go, and there will certainly be peaks and valleys ahead. But there’s a growing feeling…in my head AND my heart…that “next year” might finally be here.

With unabated enthusiasm,

Dave

Correspondence Between a Cubs Fan and a Royals Fan - Part 1: Opening Day

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

Royal Dogma

Faithless is he who says farewell when the road darkens.
-J.R.R. Tolkien

I'm ashamed to admit it now, but I lost faith in the Royals during Game 4 of the ALDS against the Astros. I had given up, and I conceded the game. If I had merely thought it, then I could've kept it to myself and probably would have. But as faithlessness was not enough, I felt compelled to add foolishness to my rap sheet by sending out a public capitulation to two of my friends. Whelp. 2015 was fun. The Astros were the better team this series. Looking forward to 2016! Not one of my finer moments as a fan, but I think it's the perfect backdrop to frame what these Royals accomplished this postseason - the improbable, if not the impossible.

Up two games to one in the best-of-five series, the Astros had just ameliorated their lead to 6-2, as Colby Rasmus, who looks more like a stereotypical grunge rocker than he does a baseball player, hit yet another homerun for the Astros. I didn't want to watch anymore. I didn't want to see my team that had put together such a wonderful season walk into the dugout with heads hung low, while the city of Houston rejoiced in a euphoric fever pitch. I shut off the game feed that had been streaming on my phone, and I started reading the very first thing that popped up on my Facebook feed - a letter about the Church's response to homosexuality. Just what I needed...a little light reading. It was, however, a terrific departure from anything baseball-related, and truth be told, it seemed like a joyous respite compared with having to watch that ugly man with his greasy hair trot around the bases to a jubilant red-neck cacophony. So I read on...

At that point, the Royals had a 3% probability of winning the game. Math was trying to tell me that if the Royals played out those two innings 100 times, they would win the game only 3 times. I of course didn't know the math in that moment. I didn't need math to tell me that we were screwed. A four-run deficit in the eleventh hour told me that. The frivolity of Houston's players and the pandemonium of its crowd told me that. Our seventh inning pitcher Ryan Madson's pathetic, demoralized face told me that. The countless hours I have spent watching and dissecting baseball told me that.

There aren't too many entities in the world that are able to stand in the face of math and deride it. We live in a physical world governed by laws, and math almost always wins the day. In no sport has this been more true or evident than in baseball. Baseball has always been a game of stats, but in the last fifteen years it's gotten damn near out of control. Baseball has birthed its own statistical vocabulary for crying out loud! With the advent of sabermetrics, we now rely more heavily upon statistics in baseball than ever when it comes to valuing and appraising performance. We used to just have batting average, RBI's (runs batted in), and homeruns for batters and wins and ERA (earned run average) for pitchers. Life was so much simpler back then. Now we have convoluted statistics such as OBP (on-base% plus slugging%) for batters, xFIP (expected fielding independent pitching) for pitchers, and WAR (wins above replacement). I mean, seriously, DOES ANYBODY HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THE HELL WAR IS??!

wtf...

This is all to say that baseball and math go together like peas and carrots. But in STATS 101, we all learn that with a stream of correlated data, there can exist a statistical outlier - a number that deviates from the norm. On a graph, an outlier falls clearly outside of where the rest of the points are associated. Well in the thirty teams that comprise Major League Baseball, there exists a big blue outlier that does not conform with the rest, beautiful and terrible to behold. That would be the Kansas City Royals.

Let's go back to me choosing to read over watching the Royals play postseason baseball - an offense that I have been repeatedly apologizing to God for. All of a sudden, I received a knowing text from one of the very same friends who I had sent my ill-advised white flag to. His text insinuated that something interesting was happening in the game that I had so recently abandoned. Now curious, I brought the game back up on my phone. The first thing I saw upon returning to the coverage was Ben Zobrist hitting a bloop single to center field to load the bases with no outs. Now I've witnessed plenty of occasions in which a team finds itself in that very situation only to experience futility in scoring no runs. So I tempered my enthusiasm. After all, the next several batters still need to execute hitting that little white ball, traveling at speeds close to 100 miles an hour, with those thin wooden sticks, to an area of the field suitable for scoring said runners. It's a hard thing to do. Still, with my interest now piqued, I allowed a few seedlings of hope to begin to sprout in my deadened heart.

In these types of game situations, everyone is looking for a "big hit" - a double or better yet, a homerun, that can clear the bases all in one swing of the bat. It's easier. It's quicker. We live in an age of information. We can access whatever we want with a quick press of the "return" button. Hell, we can just ask Siri or Google to retrieve the information for us. Of course you'd want the big hit. It's instant gratification. But this is the Royals. Remember the outlier motif...

After loading the bases with three humble singles, Lorenzo Cain did not get a big hit. He hit another single - a very unimpressive ground ball through the left side of the infield. Everybody moved up a base. 6-3. Eric Hosmer did not get a big hit. He hit another single - the fifth in a row - right over the second baseman Jose Altuve. Everybody moved up a base. 6-4. Then something remarkable happened. The Royals' designated hitter - big switch-hitting Kendrys Morales - hit a hard ground ball just past the pitcher Tony Sipp. Sipp reached out to attempt to field the ball, but the ball went skirting just off his glove, taking a slight detour towards shortstop Carlos Correa. Carlos Correa at this point in the game was an absolute hero. He had hit two homeruns and a double - responsible for four of Houston's six RBI's. The American League's Rookie of the Year had been a one-man wrecking crew. And in this moment, the baseball approached his glove for a tailor-made double-play, which would've allowed one more run to score, but ultimately could've halted Kansas City's rally just before they would've been able to tie the game. It's a play Correa probably makes 97 in 100 tries. But in this instant of cruel irony, the ball skirted past his glove also. Error. Two more runs scored, and no outs were recorded. 6-6. Three more batters after that, after Mike Moustakas had a ten-pitch strikeout, and Drew Butera drew one of the most heroic ten-pitch walks I've ever seen, Alex Gordon finally hit the go-ahead run in with a sacrifice grounder to Jose Altuve. After the inning was over, the Astros had used three pitchers who had thrown a robust 55 pitches. That pitching staff wanted nothing more to do with the Royals. They wouldn't be the last team that felt that way. The Royals would go on to win the game 9-6.

I was stunned. I had never seen anything like this before. There was quite simply no precedent for this kind of thing...

Oh yeah...

...damn it. Just one year earlier, Kansas City trailed the Oakland Athletics in the American League Wild Card Game by four runs in the eighth inning. At the end of the seventh inning, the Royals' win probability was a mere 2.9%. They would go on to tie the game in the ninth, fall down a run again in the twelfth, finding their win probability at just 10.9%, and finally score two runs in the bottom of the twelfth to win the game. That was probably the single craziest postseason game in Major League Baseball history. Game Four against Houston is in the running for runner-up. 

In each of their first two wins over the Astros, the Royals found themselves down by two or more runs. When Game 5 came back to Kansas City, Johnny Cueto promptly gave up a 2-run dinger to Luis Valbuena in the second inning to put the Royals behind 0-2. They would come back to win that game 7-2. Noticing a pattern here?

They would go on to win five more games when trailing - eight of their eleven postseason wins. Seven of those were when trailing by two or more runs. The next highest mark by another postseason team in Major League history is four. And if what we had seen prior to the World Series was magic, then it was just a rabbit out of the hat. They were about to saw the girl in half. The Royals came from behind against the Mets in all four of their World Series wins en route to winning the championship. In three of their four wins, they trailed in the eighth inning. In two of them, they trailed in the ninth. It was quite frankly bizarre. It was simultaneously a dominant performance by the Royals, while at the same time being a very close series. Mets fans still think they should've been up 3-2 heading back to Kansas City.

This quite simply doesn't happen in baseball. It's bloody difficult to play from behind. And yet the Royals made a mockery out of that reality. SportCenter tweeted out a graphic shortly after the Royals had won Game 5 against the Mets. It read:

Those are a lot of numbers. Allow me to put it in layman's: the Royals were in a tight spot, and then they were dead in the water. They were down, and they were out. They were screwed, and then they were between a rock and a hard place. But they won. Every time they won. 

I still can't seem to wrap my mind around it, can you?? This was quite frankly the most exciting, tenacious, and resilient team ever. And I don't think I'm being hyperbolic in saying that. No team has ever come close to doing anything like this before. And I do put emphasis on the word team. No one or two players were responsible for these wins. Everyone, literally everyone, did something along the way that you could make a strong argument was pivotal in winning a game. Remember the eighth inning against the Astros? When Lorenzo Cain came up to bat with the bases loaded, the broadcaster said, and Lorenzo Cain can tie it now. Instead, they went through the entire lineup plus a batter on the way to something better than tying. By the end of that half inning they were leading. Sometimes the humble approach is better. Keep the line moving was the Royals' mantra all postseason long. It's exactly what they did. They are one of the strangest looking offensive juggernauts baseball has ever seen. My friend described getting beaten by the Royals as death by a thousand paper-cuts. Indeed. It's annoying, and it stings like hell.  

Okay, I've been through some of the math ad nauseum in order to argue that this team is more than just an anomaly. They're not just different; they're special. You don't just come from behind against impossible odds, and then do it again, and then do it again, and then do it again...without garnering along the way some sort of support that there's a very good reason for it all. So what is that reason??

In order to be an effective leader, you have to model the very kind of behavior, ethic, and resolve you expect to receive from those beneath you. General manager Dayton Moore and manager Ned Yost are somewhat of an odd couple. You could not find a kinder, more accommodating person than Moore. Yost, on the other hand, has been known for his prickly demeanor. Both men are Atlanta imports. During their heyday, when they were winning their division every single season in the 90's, the Braves' organization built a culture brimming with professionalism, pride, and excellence. Their slogan was "the Brave way". It's catchy, but more so than that, when you add division title after division title to your resume, "the Brave way" starts to have profound meaning. It ceases being just a platitude and begins being a way of life. It means being the best, and it means carrying yourself in a way that is worthy of the jersey you wear. That may sound cheesy, but it's not cheesy to those who wear uniforms to work. 

Though the Royals truly are on the cutting edge of baseball in many respects (to expound upon that would mean writing another blog), there is a lot about them - namely Moore and Yost - that is very traditional, almost antiquated. In the first eight innings of Game 5 of the World Series, the Royals' offense looked anemic. More than that, Mets' starter Matt Harvey looked unhittable. He had all of his pitches working, and he was spotting them wherever he wanted. He had recorded nine strikeouts against a team known for not striking out. So when he returned to the mound in the top of the ninth to finish the gem he had started, there was no earthly reason why any Royal affiliate should've been optimistic. But Dayton Moore, up in his executive suite, with apparently a different, omniscient vantage point than the rest of us, turned calmly to the person he was sitting next to and softly stated, Pay attention now. We're about to find a way to win the World Series. WHO SAYS THAT KIND OF THING?? If I were the man sitting next to him, I probably would have politely chuckled and said something really White, such as, Well, that would really be something, wouldn't it?...when really, in my head I'm thinking, BITCH, PLEASE!!

The days of "hunches" and "gut-feelings" have long been going the way of the dodo in baseball, replaced by sabermetrics and analytics. But Saint Moore and Father Ned are returning to their patristics and the age-old practice of baseball mysticism. With Ned, it's not uncommon to hear that he, just knew we were gonna win that game, or, in the case of Game 4 against Houston, I felt real confident that we were going to make a game out of it. I just felt that the bats were going to come alive... After hearing Yost say things like this for years now, you start to get the impression that the man is, or thinks he is a clairvoyant. But before I go poking fun at Ned, I need to remove the plank in my own eye. I knew that the Royals were going to lose that game against Houston. I was operating out of an understanding of probability when I should've been operating out of belief. Fool me once, shame on the Royals. Fool me twice, shame on me! 

Let's call the hunches and gut-feelings what it is. It's belief. Moore and Yost have a profound belief in their players and in the Kansas City Royals team, and it has had quite the trickle-down effect. You can tell that the players also believe in the collective aura of their team's character. After that ALDS Game 4, Eric Hosmer said, We always feel that we're still in games, and we still have a chance. That's the mentality of this whole entire team. It's never quit, and the character we showed today, that's what a championship ball club does. Mike Moustakas, who began rallying the offense in the dugout with a speech shortly before the 5-run onslaught, said in his post-game interview, I just knew we were gonna win that game today. I knew we weren't going to lose...that at some point we were going to be able to find a way to come back and win. Sound familiar at all?? If that isn't the adopted lingo of Ned Yost, then I don't know what is! 

Some people are faster to believe than others, but eventually if you witness enough evidence, even the most skeptical of us will be convicted. I tend to be a pretty skeptical person when it comes to the mystical. That's probably why I shut off the feed in the seventh inning of that game. But there is something mystical about this team. Nothing about this postseason run seemed earthly. All the come-from-behind wins, Alex Gordon's iconic homerun in the bottom of the ninth in Game 1 of the World Series (when I legitimately worried that neighbors would tip off the police in regards to a domestic violence case on account of my yelling), and Hosmer's ballsy dash home to tie Game 5 of the World Series...none of it should have happened, but it did. 

Let me bring it all a little closer to home. A lot of you know that my dad passed away this April, on Opening Day. He was a life-long Royals fan and was able to impart that love to both of his sons. It's silly, but some of my favorite memories are of being at Kauffman with him, or calling him on my way to work to talk about the Royals, or sitting out on our deck, drinking beers and...talking about the Royals. We could always, always chat about this team. During the height of their days mirroring a little league team, my dad would lament to me about how I had never seen the days of Brett, White, Wilson, and Saberhagen. Yet he always remained optimistic when it came to the future. And while last season represented such sweetness for all of us who had been waiting for 29 years just to make the playoffs, it also left us with a feeling of unfinished business. We fell just short of the pinnacle, just 90 feet away. How long might it take to get back there again?

I can't quite explain it, but I've felt my dad's presence during this season. I felt him on Opening Day, when the Royals dominated the White Sox 10-1. I felt him when my brother and I went to Kauffman for the second game of the season to witness a late-inning victory. I felt him when I had the pleasure of going back home during the summer, and my family attended a 4-3 walk-off victory over the Angels in ten innings. And during all of the magic of this postseason, I couldn't help but feel that my dad was in heaven, lobbying with his Savior to give a couple more gifts to his family back home. My dad passed away at 12:34 am on Opening Day. The Royals won the World Series at 12:34 am. I went to bed that night listening to Kansas City sports radio, which was being broadcast throughout the night. One of the hosts shared a sentimental story - that he had taken his two boys to Game 7 of the World Series last year, and after the loss, his youngest walked back to the car with a jacket over his head, tears running down his eyes. Now, a year later, in the wake of the celebration of a Royals championship fulfilled, he hugged both his boys tightly in a moment he'll never forget. It was emotional for me not because my brother and I couldn't enjoy that same moment with dad last year, but because I knew that in this moment dad was hugging us tightly also. 

J.R.R. Tolkien is my favorite author. When asked why he wrote his fiction from a historical, rather than allegorical perspective, he remarked that allegory limits the reader to one message, while history opens numerous doorways of meaning. What the Royals just accomplished was historic, not allegorical. It's significant to me for a multitude of reasons - one of which is knowing what this means in light of my dad's passing. To me, this was another hug from my dad. But what is so special is also knowing that there are countless other lives of Kansas City fans that this story has touched in a profound, yet personal way...so many other hugs that were given. 

Royal dogma is about belief - belief in the collective unit, belief in "us", belief in the person who hits before you, and belief in the person that hits after you. You don't try to hit singles when the bases are loaded and you're down four runs unless you believe in the people around you and their ability to continue moving the line. Baseball has always been a game essentially featuring a matchup between two people. There's a pitcher and a batter, and then there's a whole lot of guys standing around. Not so with this Royals team. There's a pitcher and a batter, and then another batter, and then another batter, and then another batter. And all of them are going to be relentless in their approach to make sure the next man gets up to bat. Perhaps a humble approach is more beneficial to the group than a heroic one. It's not the culture we live in, but it's the culture in that Royals clubhouse. Outlier.

And so how fitting that this should all end with the most epic collective group celebration of a sports championship I would argue ever. Our city literally came out to celebrate a team that it feels so closely connected to, and that all of us have been inspired by. 

I imagined what this would feel like in one of my first blog posts. I likened a fan who has wandered the desert for years and years and who finally gets to taste a championship to a slumdog millionaire. I wrote that in theory, not knowing what it felt like to cheer for a playoff team, let alone a world championship team. I wrote that not knowing that the oasis for my parched fandom was actually just around the corner. Indeed, I can confirm that we all feel like royalty. So in the immortal words of Freddy Mercury and Queen - words that seem as though they were penned with this Royals team in mind, we sing together, We are the champions, my friend! And we'll keep on fighting till the end. That's damn right. 

Spotting Thestrals

The last enemy to be destroyed is death.

-1 Corinthians 15:26, also found on James and Lily Potter's tombstone

In J.K. Rowling's beloved Harry Potter book series, the main character - Harry, is constantly dealing with adversity in the wake of his experiencing death. As a baby, Harry was in the very room that his mother was murdered in. And as a student, Harry witnesses the death of his classmate Cedric, his godfather and guardian Sirius, and his friend and mentor Dumbledore. Harry's experiences with death make him more vulnerable, but they also have impressed upon him strength and growth unique in comparison to his peers.

In Rowling's third installment, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry is plagued by the soul-sucking dementors that guard the prison Azkaban. Being able to feed more incessantly upon those with painful pasts, they unfairly prey on Harry. Later, Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - Professor Lupin (the only competent Dark Arts teacher Harry has in the entire series) - teaches Harry the shielding spell necessary for warding off the creatures - the patronus charm. But in order to conjure a proper patronus, the wizard needs to delve into a memory - a happy memory to be exact. Harry first tries the spell while remembering the first time he rode a broom. WIZARD FAIL. The dementor breaks through Harry's broom-shield the way a strong, generously-proportioned kid busts open the pinata. Coincidentally, Harry needs chocolate to recover. At the behest of Professor Lupin, Harry attempts the spell again, this time with a much more powerful memory. Being unsure of this second memory's happy quality, he is certain of its power. This time Harry succeeds in repelling the creature. The powerful memory turns out to be the earliest one he has - of his parents before they had been murdered by Lord Voldemort. So a memory inextricably linked with deep pain turns out to also be a source of great strength for Harry.

The theme of death takes on a startlingly different visage in The Order of the Phoenix, in the form of the creature/conveyance thestrals. Whereas the other students assume that the coach that brings them from the train to Hogwarts pulls itself due to magic, only Harry and Luna can see the situation for what it is - that the thestrals are what actually pull the coach. Luna later informs Harry that it is because they have seen death that they can see the creatures. What can best be described as a skeletal pegasus, the thestral won't exactly be winning a beauty contest any time soon. When Luna states why others avoid thestrals (presumably other than the fact that most can't see them), Harry finishes her thought by saying that they're different.

In the film's depiction, Harry finds Luna in the woods, feeding the thestrals. He learns that Luna lost her mother when she was younger due to a spell that went wrong. Luna is refreshingly honest about the situation, telling Harry that it was a horrible thing, and that she is still sad about it from time to time. Rowling creates an insightful depiction of what healthy grieving looks like through Luna. The truth she reveals is that grief is indeed a difficult thing - something that many try to avoid, but it is in fact a healthy thing to visit grief from time to time, nourishing it with reflection and memory. This is why Luna can in the same breath tell Harry that her mom was a remarkable witch and also that the pain of her death still lingers. If she were to avoid processing the grief involved in her mother's death, she would also be neglecting the memory of the beauty of her life.

Two of the four existential givens in psychology are death and isolation. These are universal themes found in life that we as humans (and wizards) must confront at some point. It's no coincidence, then, that the same scene which features Luna's reflection of death also features Harry's struggle with isolation. After all, the two often work in tandem with one another. After Harry makes a passing comment about how Luna and her father are probably the only two who believe in him, Luna reprimands Harry and corrects him, saying she doesn't think that's true, although that's probably exactly what Voldemort wants Harry to believe.

In Narrative Therapy, the therapist works with the client to alter negative storylines that the client may have developed in life, called dominant stories. In this circumstance, Harry's dominant story that he has authored is one in which he is alone - perhaps that he has been alone all his life. Like a jedi, Luna plays inception on Harry, implicitly challenging him to begin reframing his dominant story into an alternative one - that he is in fact not alone, and that there are many who are on his side if he would but simply let down his guard and invite them in. Perhaps implicit in their interaction is that Harry can begin to reframe not only his isolation, but also his experience with death in contributing to his strength and maturity as a precocious young wizard. Perhaps death has not been holding him back but instead has driven him towards the realization of his being The Chosen One, the boy who lived. Wasn't it Death, after all, who gifted the Peverell brothers, and consequently Harry, with the means to conquer death?

Well I am not The Chosen One, and my life's narrative reads far differently than Harry Potter's. But I have experienced death. I lost my dad back in April. I was by his side when he passed. Witnessing death does change you. Like Harry with the thestrals, you begin to see things differently. You think differently about life, as you come face to face with its fragility and finitude. Wounded, you are left more vulnerable to the dark arts of this world. But the lesson we learn from Harry and Luna and dementors and thestrals is that though death is indeed ugly in its unveiling, that does not mean we should shy away from confronting it in our grief.  It is incumbent upon our ability to grieve properly that we can in turn cherish the memory of that life. And what lies in the power of those memories is the ability to shield oneself from dark thoughts when they attack. We are not strongest when we avoid the pain of death; we are strongest when we attribute meaning to it.

As I said, I'm not Harry Potter. Death in the land of muggles is death, and it hurts. And at the end of the day, I can't turn to the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak for mastery over death; I look instead to that same promise found on James and Lily's tombstone, and in the death and resurrection of Christ I find a different kind of hallows. In replace of the Elder Wand fashioned by Death himself, I have a cross and the blood of Love Himself. Instead of a resurrection stone, I have an overturned stone. Instead of an invisibility cloak, which obscures a man, I have the hollow linen cloths that prove His absence.

Hallow means holy, sacred. My dad passed away the day after Easter. He had the hallows. They were close in his mind and in his heart, which is right where I'll keep him.

Moore Stars

In 1990, Bret Saberhagen was the sole Kansas City Royal to earn that requisite team all-star spot. It was the beginning of a twenty-two year drought that would see only twenty-four Royals featured in all-star games. You know things are bad when you reflect back on 2003 and remember Mike Sweeney and Mike MacDougal as the glory days. Juntos Podemos...

My how the times have changed! In 2015, the Royals sent seven all-stars to Cincinnati for the game - five of whom were voted in by the fans (Alcides Escobar, Lorenzo Cain, Salvador Perez, *Alex Gordon, and Mike Moustakas), one of whom was voted in by the players (Wade Davis - who finally gave up his second earned run of the season because Alex Rios needed to man the less than god-like defensive outfield position), and one of whom was taken by manager Ned Yost (Kelvin Herrera). 2003 is now a punch-line - a page-break in the annals of Royals history during a time that Kansas City would sooner forget than bring up. The glory days are here and now.

And though the number of all-stars is not exactly the litmus test for the strength of a team, that's not quite the point. Five Royals were voted into this year's All-Star game by the fans. Not the Yankees of New York, not the Red Sox of Boston, not the Angels of Los Angeles. It was Kansas City that rocked the vote. This is a small-market team's fan base that just kicked every other team's fan base in the nads en route to voting in four Royals to start the All-Star Game...and then gouged some eyes for good measure in order to get Moustakas in as well. This Royals team is tenacious, and the fans are adopting that scratch-and-claw mentality in their own way. If you can't swing a bat, you can sure as hell click a mouse.

The point is that we have fallen in love with this team, and we're prepared to fight for them the way they fight for Kansas City. For a while, eight Royals were leading the all-star vote. It was a team potentially comprised of Mike Trout and Royals...good odds for the AL! This, however, was not cute to the rest of the nation's baseball fans, who saw the surge in Kansas City votes as an affront to the integrity of what the All-Star Game stands for. Renowned baseball writer Jason Stark, while talking with Kansas City pundit Soren Petro over the radio airwaves, posed the question, "Do you know how the rest of the country is feeling about all of this??" I love Jason Stark, but do you know how little we give a shit about the rest of the country's feelings?? What's the phrase I'm looking for? Oh yeah: there's no crying in baseball! Either campaign for someone else, or shut the hell up. We don't want to hear complaining from cities and fans who had every opportunity...hell, more the opportunity than Kansas City did to vote in the players they wanted to see in the game.

But this particular blog post is dedicated to the past, not the present. What can I say? I'm a history major dropout; I love having context of a situation in understanding how the present has come to be. Someone or some thing deserves credit for what has happened in Kansas City. And though I can find myself praying to the Almighty concerning potential outcomes in sports, I don't think He actually cares. Either that or San Francisco prayed more fervently than I. So I want to take the time to honor the executive prowess of the man largely responsible for assembling this team - Royals' general manager and architect Dayton Moore. Namely, I want to highlight two of the best trades that have ever been made in this franchise's history - trades that have unquestionably contributed to the team's composition as the best in the American League and its complexion as the funnest and most tightly-knit in all of baseball.

Dayton Moore took over as general manager for the Royals in June of 2006. Although personally, it represented a triumphant return home for the lifelong Wichita-born Royals fan, let's face it, it was professional suicide. The Royals had become the laughing stock of major league baseball. Even the name "Royals" was synonymous with "pathetic". People in no way wanted to be royal. Four of the previous five seasons had seen 100+ losses. And although you'd think that with so many top draft spots following such atrociousness that the farm system would be stockpiled with talent, such was not the case. In a seven-year stretch between 1997 to 2003, the Royals had seven top-ten draft picks. They took: Dan Reichert, Jeff Austin, Kyle Snyder, Mike Stodolka, Colt Griffin, Zack Greinke, and Chris Lubanski. If you even remotely follow baseball then you know that one of these names is not like the other. Six of those players together amounted essentially to jack squat. But there was Zack Greinke. Thank God for Zack Greinke. Zack Greinke who would eventually go on to win the American League Cy Young award in 2009 with Kansas City. Zack Greinke who would become one of the best pitchers in baseball. Zack Greinke who would unwittingly save Kansas City's franchise...

Now I love Zack Greinke. I loved him when he was a Royal, and I still love him as the starter of the National League All-Star team for the Dodgers. I love his sick arsenal of pitches. I love his cerebral approach to pitching. I love that he returned to baseball and became a perennial Cy-Young contender after having departed for a while to get his mind right. I love that he stood his ground on the mound when Carlos Quentin charged him and dislocated his shoulder. I love that he's one of the most awkward and least interesting interviews in sports. I love that his parents spelled his name with a "k". Such sycophantic adoration is what inherently comes with cheering for your team's best players. They can do no wrong. George Brett could've punched a nun in the face, and Kansas City would've shoved her out of the way to check if Brett's hand was alright.

It perhaps goes without saying then that when Dayton Moore traded Greinke to the Milwaukee Brewers in December of 2010, it was a dark day for me indeed. The previous Royals organization had a long history of trading away its best players in exchange for shitty ones. As a fan, you become conditioned to respond with cynicism after seeing players like Jermaine Dye, Johnny Damon, and Carlos Beltran traded for the likes of Neifi Perez, Brent Mayne, Mike Wood, John Buck, Conner Teahan, and...why am I confounding the situation with names? It was shit. Oakland and Houston could've instead mailed us several large bags of poop. They wouldn't have stunk as long, and they would've come with far cheaper price tags attached. So when I heard the names of the players Milwaukee was giving to us for Greinke - some shortstop named Alcides Escobar, some outfielder named Lorenzo Cain, and some pitcher named Jake Odorizzi, you must forgive me for expressing immediate derision in response to the move. I thought we had just traded away one of the best players in baseball for nothing yet again. I didn't know whether these players would even step foot into beautiful Kauffman Stadium or if they would simply languish with all the other misfit toys on the archipelago known as Kansas City's farm system.

As it turns out, they weren't marooned for long. 2011 ended up being a very significant season for the Royals. Though they would go on to lose ninety-one games, they saw a wave of youth called up to the team, including Eric Hosmer and Mike Moustakas - two of Dayton's high draft picks, Salvador Perez - part of a revamped Latin American recruiting effort by Moore's organization, and trade acquisitions Alcides Escobar and Lorenzo Cain. I thought Dayton Moore was crazy when he traded Greinke away. He was; like a fox. I didn't have the foresight in 2010 to realize that what the Kansas City Royals didn't need at that time was to pay a phenomenal pitcher in his prime a boatload of money and cripple the rest of the team in the process. Their future wasn't Greinke. It was in the young players that would soon come up together, play together, become really good together, and eventually do special things together. That was the vision, at least...

Back to the Greinke trade...

They say that the middle of the field is the most important in terms of defense. This would be the shortstop, the second baseman, and the center fielder. If the fielders are elite, the three comprise a Bermuda triangle of sorts, where balls go to die. The more important of the three - probably the consensus two most valuable defensive positions on a baseball team - are the shortstop and center fielder. In December of 2010, Dayton Moore gave up Zack Greinke and received in return an elite defensive shortstop in Alcides Escobar and a future gold glove-winning center fielder (it hasn't happened yet, but it will) in Lorenzo Cain. Their wizardry on the field tends to obscure the truth that both of these players are also above-average hitters at their respective positions. Alcides Escobar is a career .266 leadoff hitter who steals bases and has a penchant for clutch RBI's. Lorenzo Cain is currently having the best season in his short career by far, hitting .320, already with 17 stolen bases, and 10 homeruns - more than he's ever hit in a season before. While Greinke bounced from Milwaukee to Anaheim to LA, seeking teams that could afford him, these two players have each played nearly five seasons each in Royal blue and presumably have several more in their future. They've played in the World Series and now have both started and recorded hits in the 2015 All-Star Game. Oh yeah, they're making a combined $5.75 million this season. The guy they were traded for makes $27. That wasn't just a good trade. It was a phenomenal trade.

But wait, there's Moore!

There was another guy in that trade (technically there were two, but nobody really cares about relief pitcher Jeremy Jeffress, and quite frankly, he doesn't support my argument). Ahem. Like I was saying, there was one other guy in that trade. His name is Jake Odorizzi. Though you can find better Italian names in baseball, you won't find too many better second pieces in a trade. Odorizzi has indeed become a fine major league starting pitcher. But you won't find him these days in a blue uniform. Odorizzi was part of a six-player deal that sent him and super prospect Wil Myers to Tampa Bay in exchange for frontline ace James Shields and starter/reliever Wade Davis.

The deal wasn't very popular in Kansas City. It was bold, and the writing was on the walls: either win in two years while you have James Shields, or you traded away a potential star for nothing. The general consensus was that if the Royals could simply make the playoffs and end their 27-year drought, the trade would have been worth it. That may sound like a very humble goal, but let me tell you, when you witness year after wretched year of your team not only missing the playoffs but missing it by a mile, the playoffs begin to feel about as accessible as Pluto.

In 2013, Wade Davis was abominable as a starter, the Royals failed to make the playoffs, and Wil Myers won Rookie of the Year with Tampa Bay. Ohhhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiit. One year with James Shields down, one year to go. In-depth trade analysis: not good.  Detailed prognostication: not good at all.

In spring training of 2014, the Royals' bullpen - a clear strength of the team - lost its quality setup man Luke Hochevar to Tommy John surgery. Awesome. So someone got the bright idea to take Wade Davis, who I will remind you was terrible the season before as a starter, and convert him into a reliever. Relieve he did, to the tune of a 1.00 ERA, 0.85 WHIP, and a gaudy 3.7 WAR. For the faint of stats, let me help: that is ridiculous. You can't really quantify the value of a pitcher who can shut down the eighth inning every single time...until it's compounded when you combine said pitcher with two others who can do the exact same thing. Ergo the law firm of Herrera, Davis, and Holland - the greatest bullpen in baseball history. If the Royals bring a tie or a lead into the seventh inning, the game is all but won.

Meanwhile, while Wade Davis was putting together one of the greatest campaigns for a reliever ever, James Shields was continuing to pitch extremely effectively. But his pitching wasn't the most valuable asset he brought to Kansas City; it was his charisma. After seven seasons pitching on a perennially good Tampa Bay team that went to the World Series in 2008, James Shields brought with him to Kansas City a winning attitude. He taught the team to loosen up and be themselves. He taught them that it's a long, 162-game season, and not to be discouraged by a 5-game losing streak. Everyone needs a mentor, professional athletes notwithstanding, and James Shields filled that role for a team comprised almost entirely of young players. So like a virus, Shields infected the clubhouse with his swagger. After 28 years of an ingrained losing culture, the Royals didn't need Zack Greinke's stoic excellence. They needed someone who would begin to change the culture, infusing a sense of belonging among the American League's elite. Sometimes you just need Mufasa to show you your kingdom.

So ultimately Zack Greinke was directly or indirectly involved in bringing Lorenzo Cain, Alcides Escobar, Wade Davis, and James Shields to Kansas City. That's three all-stars and a winning culture. Without those players the Royals probably aren't a winning ball club, they don't make the playoffs in 2014, and they certainly don't become American League champions and take the World Series to seven games.

As a fan it's so easy to be critical, especially after three decades of ineptitude. It's taken Dayton Moore's organization the better part of a decade to break that train of thought, but I think it's finally sunk in that these guys know what they're doing. Big, bold moves like the Greinke and Shields trades certainly do a lot to earn that standing, but so do the little things, like trading for Jeremy Guthrie, signing Ervin Santana, Edinson Volquez, and Kendrys Morales, taking a chance on aging pitchers Ryan Madson and Chris Young, and oh yeah, there is that ridiculous 5-year, $7 million contract with three-time all-star Salvador Perez.

Who is the most valuable contributor to this Royals team? It could be the man behind the scenes, making things happen with his phone rather than a bat. What he's given us hasn't come in the form of clutch hitting, run production, or stranded runners. He's given us confidence and trust in this organization - both now and moving forward. You can't measure that, you can't quantify it on a stat sheet, and it sure as hell doesn't pack up and go to LA. We believe. It feels so good to say that and mean it.