D's Notebook

Month: October 2014 (Page 2 of 3)

R’s: Is This Real?

October 16, 2014 /

Once again, I’m at a loss.

How did any of this happen?

How did they go from losing four straight after the All-Star break, falling to 48–50, to this?

How did they go from reasonable people screaming that they should be trading James Shields at the trading deadline to this?

How does a manager who is routinely, almost daily, mocked for his in-game decisions push the right button over and over again once the playoffs began?

How did they go from kicking the ball all over the field in late August and early September to this, one of the finest defensive shows in playoff history?

How did they go from four runs down with five outs left in their season to this?

How does a team do almost everything wrong for nearly 30 years and then rip off eight-straight post season wins?

The Kansas City Royals are champions of the American League. The Kansas City Royals are four wins away from a World Series championship.

I honestly never, ever thought I would be able to say that again in my life.

And remember, I’ve written here a couple times about maybe, just maybe, if the Royals could ever squeak into the post-season they might be in solid shape, between their excellent starting rotation, their phenomenal defense, their ability to manufacture runs, and their historically good bullpen. The team that never made anything easy in the regular season might just have been built for the post season.

But I never expected this to happen. And certainly not in the way it has happened. Eight straight wins? Get out of here.

The craziest thing is how it seems like they’re on an epic hot streak. Yet all but one of these games could have easily gone the other way. Four one-run games. Four extra inning games. Another game where the winning runs came across in the top of the ninth. At the macro level they are ripping through the playoffs. At the micro level, though, it’s been far from a breeze. An error here or a pitching hiccup there and this is a completely different story.

Wednesday I was as keyed up as I’ve ever been for a baseball game. My stomach was already churning hours before the game. I was a tense mess most of the game. As the Royals kept blowing opportunities to add an insurance run, I would wind a little tighter. L. would run down and ask who was winning. The answer was always, “The Royals. But it’s close.” Then she would shout, “Yay!” and run back upstairs to report to the rest of the family.[1]

And then, when Mike Moustakas fielded J.J. Hardy’s grounder and made a perfect throw to Eric Hosmer for the last out, a flood of emotions hit me.

Relief. Disbelief. Amazement. Elation. Shock. Happiness (and jealousy) for all my friends who were in the K to watch the team clinch.

Again, this was never going to happen. The Royals might be decent, respectable even, one day. But no way were they going to rip through the first three rounds of the playoffs and have a chance to win it all. Whether it was the curse of Don Denkinger or just there would be five better teams the Royals had to get through, something would end their playoff run before the World Series.

This is just stupid. But so great.

I have no idea if they can keep it going. It concerns me that the bats went quiet over the last two games. But the pitching was nails and it didn’t matter. I’m going to keep hoping they can do just enough at the plate to find a way to win four more before the year is over.

I believe I’ve mentioned before that their school librarian is a Missouri native who spent some time in Kansas City and is pulling for the Royals. This week she read C.’s and L.’s classes books about baseball, then asked if anyone knew who was still playing. Each time she asked my girls to answer first, and each time they proudly answered “The Royals!” C. even shared with her class how I’ve been “staying up super late to watch games,” and “sometimes he yells when they hit home runs and wakes me up.” Yelled, yes. Wake her up, no. She’s two floors away and even with her difficulty falling asleep, that kid sleeps through anything once she’s out.  ↩

End Of The Boating Season

October 14, 2014 /

One last (brief) boat ride for the year. Which was preceded by one last boating adventure for the year.

Saturday we planned on getting the boat out of the water for the year. We actually went down Friday night so we could get an early start and have everything wrapped up before I covered a sectional soccer game in the afternoon.

Bright and early we got up, got the trailer hooked up, the girls in life jackets, and headed down for the quick jaunt over to the marina. Except, when I turned the key, nothing happened. It had been in the back of my mind all week that the battery might be low since we A) hadn’t started it in six weeks and B) it’s been rather chilly for several weeks. Now, did I borrow, or even buy, a battery charger to protect against these thoughts? No, I did not. And I had even borrowed an air compressor to fill the tires on the trailer, so I had the chance to grab a charger as well.

Only one lake neighbor was home, and he did have a charger that he warned did not work very well. I gave it a shot, but after half an hour there still wasn’t enough charge to turn the engine over. Time was running short so we abandoned the task for the day.

Sunday we borrowed a better charger and I went and bought a new battery, just in case ours was completely dead. Then yesterday, after the kids got dropped at St. P’s, we hustled back down to try to get everything done. It was pouring for our entire 75 minute drive. I was not looking forward to standing out in the rain while attempting to charge, and potentially change, a battery and then drive a boat through it. But just as we arrived, the rain stopped and it slowly began to clear.

I hooked the charger up and let it run while we again hooked up the trailer and got everything ready to go. After half an hour, I turned the key, and the engine at least tried to start. A pause, another twist of the key, and the engine sputtered to life. Whew!

By now the sun was out, it was in the mid–70s, and it was a thoroughly glorious day. As I slowly navigated our cove toward the main channel, it became an absolutely perfect day to be on the lake. And I was the only boat out there. I really should have taken a lap around at high speed one last time, but instead I went straight to the marina, pulled up onto the trailer, and our first summer as boaters was officially over.

Next was the really fun part: driving the trailer all the way back to Indy (about 45 minutes) to drop it off at the place where it would be winterized and stored until May. Keep in mind, I’ve never pulled an empty trailer before, let alone one with 3000 pounds of boat on top of it. And the first 20 minutes of the drive are through winding, narrow, country roads with lots of hills, blind turns, and crazy locals who drive much faster than the speed limit while straddling the center line. There’s not much room for error.

Fortunately, since it was a Monday, there was hardly any traffic. I kept it out of the ditch and away from on-coming traffic. I gave myself plenty of space to slow down once we hit the busier highway back to the city. And we made it to the boat center without incident.

We learned a lot in our first five months as boat owners. And I’m sure we still have a lot more to learn. We know not to trust the gas gauge. How to get it in and out of the water. By the end of the summer I had figured out how to drive the boat pretty well, if I may brag a bit. Each of our last two big weekends with friends we had guests who have boats of their own, and daredevil boys who are used to acting crazy behind them. Both times I whipped those kids around enough on the tube that they were screaming with joy and shouting how awesome the ride was when their turns were over. I think I came a long way from the first half of the summer when I just went straight and fast.

We hope those of you who visited this summer will come again, and those of you who didn’t make it accept our invitation to share a weekend with us next summer.

⦿ Sunday Links

October 12, 2014 /

Some late evening links while watching the NLCS. Much lower stress than watching the ALCS, that’s for sure!

While we’re on the subject, Joe Posnanski used the classic Royals and Orioles teams of the 1970s as a jumping off point for this fine piece.

Going all the way back to 1977

Let’s switch from one of the greatest sports writers of the current age to a profile of one of the greatest beat writers in the history of modern sports. This is a phenomenal look at the career of Bob Ryan, who pretty much created the job of the modern NBA beat writer.

How crazy is it that he and Peter Gammons started at the Boston Globe on the same day? Two men who set the standard for everyone that followed them, at one paper, with the same start date. Amazing.

The Commissioner

I just discovered the site Thank You Based Ball this week thanks to these two wonderful posts. It is written by Eireann Dolan, girlfriend of Oakland A’s reliever Sean Doolittle.[1]

First was her “response” to the Men’s Health article that allegedly helps dudes talk to their lady friends about sports. I haven’t read the original article, just the blowback against it. But I think this response is just terrific.

How to Talk to Women About Sports

Then came this piece about the fallout of Oakland’s loss to the Royals in the Wild Card game. Her accounting of Doolittle’s life is interesting enough. But seeing how his friends and supporters reacted when some half-wits began calling him out on Twitter after blowing the save opportunity in the Wild Card game will reaffirm your faith in humanity.

I didn’t know much about Doolittle before. But I’m a fan now.

Sean Doolittle Appreciation Day

100 craft beers every beer lover should drink? Yes, I believe I will, thank you!

You probably don’t know this, but Prince released two new albums two weeks ago. One is a proper solo album, one is basically him and his current band playing together with others on vocals for most of the tracks. I listened to a little of the solo album but lost interest midway through.

Listen, I love Prince. He is on my Mount Rushmore of favorite musicians of my life. His 1982–1987 was as good as any run in pop music ever. But I just don’t find his new music interesting. And these albums even got solid reviews.

Coincidentally this popped up last week and seemed timely. It is writer Chris Heath’s accounting of his efforts to interview Prince before his Diamonds and Pearls album came out in 1991. Which, by the way, was the last Prince album I really liked.

The Man Who Would Be Prince

Finally, you may have heard that the wonderful Jan Hooks, who spent many years on Saturday Night Live, died late last week. She was in that era where there weren’t any huge breakout stars, but a whole cast of top-notch performers.[2] She had few memorable characters, but was always fun to watch, especially when she and Phil Hartman joined forces.

This sketch is a hidden gem of her career. I don’t know if a host other than Alec Baldwin could have pulled it off. It’s so great. We used a bastardization of the “It makes you look cheap!” line on our college answering machine once.

  1. Holy Irish couple!  ↩
  2. Yes, Mike Myers was on during her run. But his breakout came late in her time on the show. And Dana Carvey might have been the most recognizable actor on the show, but he never really broke out.  ↩

Friday Vid

October 10, 2014 /


“Hey Ladies” – Beastie Boys
Free. James. Brown.

Twenty-five years ago the Beasties blew everyone’s minds with the follow-up to Licensed To Ill, the legendary Paul’s Boutique. I’ve always been proud to say I loved it and embraced it from day one. That’s not to say I completely understood it, but neither did I dismiss it like so many people who wanted more of the frat boy nonsense that made up Ill.

Paul’s Boutique was a major part of the soundtrack of my first few months at college. As I watch the video I look at the Beasties and marvel at how young they look. And then I realize that I was 18 when it came out. Eighteen! Now we’re all middle aged, the Beasties are in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and MCA has been dead for two years. Man…

D’s Notes

October 9, 2014 /

Unloading some things I’ve scribbled down in the notebook over the last few weeks.

I’ve always wondered why there are so many hand-made signs selling mattresses at most major intersections. This isn’t just an Indiana thing, is it? I know mattresses cost a bundle, but a mattress is at the top of the list of things I would never buy based on an ad posted to a utility pole.

Going back several weeks, the whole Scottish independence thing fascinated me. In my heart, I was for the Scots who wanted independence. Why should they be tied to the UK when they were a free-standing nation in just about every other way? They have their own soccer team for World Cup purposes. Why not make their own laws and foreign policy decisions rather than rely on London?

But the pragmatist in me thought independence was an awful idea. There’s a lot of money that pours from London into Scotland. Even with some healthy oil reserves in the North Sea, it was hard to see how cutting ties was a good move for Scotland.

Then again, I tend to love bands that come from Scotland. If things got really bad up there, that might trigger a new wave of fantastic bands singing about the collapse of the economy following independence. They suffer, I win!

By the way, if you want your state to secede from the United States because you hate Obamacare, or creeping Socialism, or the erosion of the Bill of Rights, or the power that Wall Street holds over Main Street, or whatever other boogeyman disturbs your particular political sensibilities, well you, my friend, are an idiot.

Each day on the way to pick the girls up I flip over to NPR just before 3:00 to hear the news update. The program that is on from 2:00-4:00, at least on SirriusXM, is called Here and Now. Each day, when I see that title on the screen, I sing, softly and to myself, Luther Vandross’ classic jam “Here & Now”.

Like you wouldn’t.

I watched a decent chunk of the Alabama – Mississippi game on Saturday. That was one fantastic ending! I especially loved all the students, dressed in their Ole Miss best, running onto the field and congratulating the players. The camera focused on quarterback Bo Wallace, who threw two late touchdown passes to clinch the win. Drunk dudes were hugging him like he had saved them from drowning or something. I expected someone to hand him a flask before he got off the field.

The emotion of college sports!

It’s kind of crazy that Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City is the sixth oldest in baseball. That means if I was a stadium, I would be the sixth oldest in the game! It’s also crazy that 24 new stadiums have opened since I graduated from high school. Remember when Skydome seemed super futuristic? Now it seems dated and out of place. I’m sure the Blue Jays would love a stack of money from Toronto to build a replacement.

My big takeaway from the baseball playoffs so far is that I’m sad my playing career ended in ninth grade. Sure, it would have been nice to be a decent high school player, win a letter, who knows, maybe get small college coaches telling me I could come play for them.

The real reason I’m mad is that I never learned how to spit cooly. I figure I’m a B- spitter, with a couple techniques that can get the job done. But I don’t have the cool Eric Hosmer-style of spitting, that seems both effortless and efficient.

I’d love to have handle the high heat or a knee-buckling curve. But spitting like a big leaguer would be much cooler.

Is there anything worse than an awkward greeting? Last Wednesday, when I was operating on three hours of sleep, I had to get the girls at first pickup to make it to a dentist appointment. I walked up and waited by the door where C. and L. come out and saw a dad standing nearby that I had seen before. I swore he was a guy that went to high school with S., but whom I’ve never met.

So I stood there, dazed and staring into space, waiting for the bell to ring, when the guy turned toward me and said, “Hey, what’s up?”

I just stared about 30 degrees left of his head for about five seconds before I realized he might be talking to me. I kind of shook my head, looked around to see if anyone else was close, then mumbled, “Oh, hey.”

That’s when I realized he wasn’t S.’s old classmate, but rather a dad from L.’s soccer team.

Right then the kids rushed out and I was left feeling like a fool.

I just realized the 20th anniversary of when I discovered the wonderful world of the Internet passed recently. That really deserved a 2000 word retrospective, don’t you think? Perhaps I can still get that out soon.

Finally, in preparation for this week’s Blood Red Moon, C.’s class learned all about the moon. On the way to school Tuesday, she was sharing some of the things she had learned. I was half tuned out, until I heard M. interrupt.

“C., it was Lance Armstrong that was the first man to walk on the moon. He’s the one who put the American flag up.”

“Whoa, M.,” I said. “It was Neil Armstrong, not Lance. Lance rode the bike, Neil walked on the moon.”

C. and L. laughed while M. stewed for a moment about being wrong and getting caught at it. But she quickly rebounded.

“Dad, you know in my baby book, where you cut out things from the paper when I was born? Can you take the picture of Lance Armstrong out since he cheated?”

Wow. I guess I know where she stands on Barry Bonds getting into the baseball Hall of Fame!

September Books

October 8, 2014 /

Hawkeye: My Life As A Weapon – Matt Fraction, David Aja, Javier Pulido
As you know, if you follow along with these posts faithfully, I like to give graphic novels a try a couple times each year. In this case, I went with the trade paperback of a comic series I’ve heard praised in many places. Hawkeye was supposed to be the comic book for people who don’t read comic books. It was rumored to be full of interesting pop culture references, sharp-witted humor, and a deeper story line that was is typically found in comics.

So I gave it a shot.

And, as often happens, I was disappointed. It’s not that it was a bad series, not at all. I suppose I’m finally realizing that like science fiction and fantasy novels, I’m more interested in the promise of graphic novels and comics than the actual execution of them. I suppose I crave a more detailed and developed story than one that is rendered mostly via artwork over 30 pages or so.

Perhaps if I had actually read comics as a kid I would get it more as an adult.

Shibumi – Trevanian
This has been on my To Read list for a couple years. I think because I wanted to read Don Winslow’s Satori, which is based on it. So I guess I can finally get to it now.

This was published in 1979 and is, in a way, a parody of classic spy novels. That’s not to say it’s silly or comic. Rather, it mimics some of the structures and archetypes found in the works of Ian Fleming, among others. And it’s pretty wacky.

The main character, Nicholai Hel, is the world’s greatest assassin, and perhaps the finest caver in the world as well. We learn his complex life story in between segments detailing efforts by the Mother Company, the secret organization that, along with OPEC, controls the world’s political and economic systems, to track Hel down and eliminate him.

As I said, it’s wacky. It feels rather dated. I had a hard time figuring out whether certain sections were mocking the classic spy novel structure or simply mirroring them for effect. Despite often being listed as one of the best spy novels ever, I don’t know that I loved it.

A Death In Vienna – Daniel Silva
Book four in the Gabriel Allon series. Picking up on some of the action in book two, Allon is again searching through the modern remnants of World War II in modern Europe. This time he’s chasing an elderly Austrian businessman believed to have been an SS commander at Nazi death camps. The man also just happens to have an illegitimate son who is on the verge of winning election as a right wing candidate for Prime Minister. Along the way Allon must dodge an assassin sent to take him out before he can unveil the truth. Good, clean fun that takes a couple nights to read.

The Way Of The Knife – Mark Mazzetti
Another that’s been on the list for some time. Mazzetti examines the drastic changes that have taken place in the US intelligence and military since 9/11, specifically how both Presidents Bush and Obama have increasingly used the CIA to fight wars, often through contractors and the use of drones, while the military has been used more and more to collect intelligence. In other words, the intelligence community has done a lot of the fighting and the military has done a lot of the snooping.

It’s an interesting book, and one that continues to pound home the idea that, for good or bad, it keeps getting easier for presidents to engage in armed actions in other countries. With the rise of drone warfare and the use of CIA operatives, who can hide behind executive orders and Justice Department opinions, presidents can fight hot wars without ever having to order large scale mobilizations of troops or even warn Congress.

Which gets to one of the major issues presented by the War on Terror. Taking out Taliban commanders in Afghanistan or their enablers in Pakistan may be popular and (mostly) legal. But what happens when we begin doing it in Yemen or Somalia? Or the next country where the President and his advisors see a threat to the US but that regular citizens know nothing about? And, given that presidents, of both parties, never give up powers that their predecessors have claimed, what are appropriate limits to place on these powers before we go too far with them?

Those are good, and important, questions to ponder. But the book kind of drove me crazy in how it is organized. It doesn’t move steadily from the development of the drone program before 9/11, through the war in Afghanistan, then onto Pakistan and other actions. It jumps around, both in time and location.

But it is an important book. It’s another opportunity to examine the things we’re giving up in order to maintain our current way of life.

Six

October 7, 2014 /

Lost in the rush of the weekend and baseball is the obligatory birthday post for L., who turned six on Friday.

She had a nice birthday. I’m not sure if it was a coincidence or if the teacher rigged the drawing[1] but she was also the star student in class last week, which meant it was all about her all week and she got to bring treats in on Friday.

For her birthday dinner, she decided she wanted to have Chinese food, which was kind of awesome since we only have it once or twice a year. Not sure how that got in her head, but I liked it. We had the neighbors and a few relatives over to share dinner with us.

When gift time rolled around, she got a skateboard and a helmet from us, which is kind of a classic L. gift. An older girl in the neighborhood had let L. borrow a small board last month and she loved it. It will be interesting to see where this goes.

She also got a Batman Lego set and a remote control car that does tricks. She is so opposite of her sisters! Of course, she did ask for some Barbies, too, but I think that was just because M. and C. claim all the current ones are theirs and L. wanted a few to claim as her own when they are all playing.

L. had scored five goals in each of her first four soccer games this year. We were kind of hoping she would get six this week, to match her age. She came damn close. She shot two in from way outside early, then blasted three in during her final period of play. But she also hit the post twice and rolled a few outside the post.

She’s just a beast on the field. Not once this year has she not been the best player on the field. If she loses the ball, she charges back and takes it right back again. If she’s playing sweeper, she’ll stop the ball, dribble through traffic, and then get the ball to the goal. If a defender tries to take the ball from her, she calmly rotates her body to keep it between the defender and the ball. And now she’s knocking in shots from 20 feet away from the goal. Where a lot of her teammates and opponents are clueless, she’s always focused and in the game. She laughs and giggles like they do, but she makes sure to play hard at the same time. I think she’s ready to move up to U8 even though she’s still pretty small.

I wonder if other parents who have more than two kids feel this way, but L. always feels simultaneously older and younger than her actual age. Older, because through years of trying to keep up with her big sisters she has always done things quicker than they did. She was ready for kindergarten at four because she had watched the other two go off to school. She taught herself to read over the summer because they could read on their own. She mastered riding a bike four months after C. because she didn’t want to be left behind. She’s the best soccer player of the three because she watched the other two play and it all came naturally when it was her turn.

And then younger because she is the baby. I still pick her up and carry her around sometimes in ways I didn’t do with the other two at the same age simply because she is the smallest one left. We’ve always tolerated a certain level of neediness from her because she was the youngest, witness the first four years of her life when she almost always slept with a parent next to her.

We constantly have to remind ourselves of her true age. “Go easy on her, she’s just six!” Or, “L., you’re six. Stop doing that.”

M. is the classic big sister, bossy and controlling and always insistent on having the last word.

C. is the classic middle sibling, emotional and sensitive but probably the most caring and sweetest.

L. seems like the classic third kid. Fearless and eager to try new things from the experiences of watching the older siblings. Sometimes shockingly mature moments balanced by frustratingly normal moments when she is crying and I’m reminding myself of her actual age.

The most important thing, though, is that she’s a happy, healthy kid that is almost always smiling and excited about whatever is going on. She finds a way to make me laugh almost every day.

It’s hard to believe that she’s six.

On Friday that week’s star student gets to select the following week’s from a blind draw. I’m wondering if L.’s name was the only one in the bag. We’ll find out in two weeks when the next class birthday rolls around, I guess.  ↩

R’s: Dead Tired But Joyous

October 6, 2014 /

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This couldn’t happen.

The team that wasted opportunities, that was full of guys who failed to fulfill their potential, that maddeningly clung to out-dated ways of playing the game, that team was not supposed to do this.

Maybe win a game, perhaps two, sure. But not sweep out the Best Team In Baseball. Not by winning two-straight in Anaheim, both on the strength of outstanding pitching, fine defense, and extra inning home runs from the two guys who most symbolized the recent failures of the Royals, Mike Moustakas and Eric Hosmer[1].

Not by trouncing the Angels in the deciding game, getting a three-run double on a two-strike pitch in the first that chased starter C.J. Wilson. Not by piling on runs steadily, including two on a massive opposite field shot by Hosmer and another on a crushed shot by Moustakas. Not by Lorenzo Cain playing centerfield like Deion Sanders played cornerback, catching everything hit his way. And certainly not with Billy Butler scoring from first one inning and stealing a base cleanly two innings later.

Some of that could have happened. But to say all of it happened, in one three-game stretch? That’s just crazy. Insane. Unbelievable.

And all that on top of Tuesday’s Wild Card epic? I’d laugh like Will Ferrell shot up by a tranquilizer in Old School and say, “You’re crazy, man,” over and over.

Yet here I am, bleary eyed but overjoyed on Monday morning. Four times in the last six nights I’ve stayed up far later than is healthy to watch the Royals rip off four-straight playoff wins. Three extra inning affairs that lasted until at least 1:00 AM and then last night’s nearly anti-climatic nine inning game that still took over 3 1/2 hours to complete, and then had me buzzing so much that I was still staring at the ceiling at 2:00 AM. Exorcising 29 years of ghosts will have that effect. It’s taken its toll, but it’s been worth it.

I don’t want to write too much, because I hope there’s a bunch more to write in the coming weeks. But it has been amazing to watch this team transform over the last week. A weight seems to have been lifted from their shoulders. Hosmer is playing with an All-Star swag we’ve been expecting from him for years. Moustakas has played like the guy we hoped, a flawed hitter who can still get his bat on the ball with pop, rather than the waste of talent he’s so often seemed at the plate. Sal Perez was taking pitches. Hell, everyone was taking pitches! Yordano Ventura was lights out in his start Friday. Jason Vargas was steady and limited the damage the Angels did to him. The bullpen was the same nasty selves they’ve been all year. It seems like finally getting into the playoffs, then getting that dramatic win over Oakland in the Wild Card game allowed everyone to take a deep breath, exhale, and play with a looseness that they’ve never had.

Now we have a series that is great for those of us who discovered baseball in the 1970s. Baltimore went to the playoffs in 1969, 1970, 1971, 1973, 1974, 1979, and 1983. The Royals were in the playoffs in 1976, 1977, 1978, 1980, 1984, and 1985. The two model franchises of the 1970s never ran into each other in October. They finally get their chance. It’s also a bit ironic for me, as I rebounded from my divorce with the Royals in 1991 by hooking up with the Orioles for the next 5–6 years.

We get four nights to catch up on our sleep in preparation for the ALCS. Unless, of course, the teams still playing in the National League decide to keep playing 18 inning games.

  1. As two of my loyal readers, John N. and Sean M. can vouch for, I called Hosmer’s home run Friday. Of course, I also claimed that Nori Aoki would homer in his final at bat that night. Instead he grounded out. I have a saying I send my KU buddy Ed L. during late games when there’s a big dunk or huge three, “WAKE UP THE KIDS!” I’ll text him. Hosmer’s home run was a definite wake the kids moment, as I screamed and threw the baseball I was holding against the back of the couch. Man, did he destroy that pitch. Everything we’ve been holding onto since Daryl Motley’s home run in 1985 came out on that one.  ↩

⦿ Saturday Links

October 4, 2014 /

I did not forget about sharing some links for the week.

I found this site, Emergent, which is kind of a Snopes or Urban Legends for news events. It looks at news stories that have been reported around the Internet and shows whether the claims have been verified or not. A useful site since I think we all see a headline or repost of something several times each week that later turns out to be not true.

Emergent

There were so many great pieces written about the Royals last week. Here are a few of my favorites.

Before the Wild Card game, Craig Brown shared his memories of how his grandfather introduced him to the Royals and the times they spent watching games together.

Finally

One of the strange things about the Royals online community is how great the writing surrounding the team has been. I’ll admit that along with being a tie back to my friends in KC, one of the things that turned me into a Royals fan again was the terrific crop of writers who cranked out words about each bad draft choice, terrible managerial decision, or bizarre in-game occurrence.

Will Leitch wrote about some of those guys.

KC’s Baseball Writing Royalty

I could share any one of about a dozen wonderful write ups of Tuesday night’s game. I’ll throw this one, from Rany Jazayerli, who was in the stands.

K.C. Masterpiece

I did not include anything from Joe Posnanski in the Royals section, even though he wrote at least three pieces about the team last week. I skipped him because I loved this column he wrote for the Golf Channel about the “controversy” surrounding US Ryder Cup captain Tom Watson. I didn’t watch a minute of the Cup, but found the sniping afterward amusing. Joe breaks it down properly.

U.S. got the Ryder Cup captain it hired

Finally, Jack Handey, the Deep Thoughts guy, with a nice little ode to Phil Hartman.

Remembering Phil Hartman

Friday Vid

October 3, 2014 /

“Run To You” – Bryan Adams
I was thinking about the music I was listening to back in the fall of 1985, the last time the Royals were in the playoffs. I know most days that fall the first thing I did after getting home from school was put on the Miami Vice soundtrack. I was listening to a lot of Tears for Fears, too.

This song came a bit later in the fall, as winter approached. I seem to recall thinking it would be a good song to learn how to sing and play for another freshman at Raytown High School that I had a crush on. Which, looking back, is horrifying on so many levels. I’m pretty sure the girl in question would not have been impressed by a skinny, awkward guy who wore glasses and had unruly hair showing up at her house and singing a song about blatant infidelity to her. Nor would her parents.

But whatever. It’s fun to laugh at what Bryan Adams evolved into, a master of schlocky pop, but his album Reckless was pretty freaking fantastic. And this is a song I continue to crank up a few times a year. As an added bonus, Ryan Adams decided to cover it this week. As with everything he’s done lately, his version is pretty great, too.

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