Tag: Kansas City Royals (Page 7 of 14)

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.  ↩

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.

Man, where to begin?

How do you write about a game like that? Do you write about all the ups and downs, all the twists and turns, the nearly five hours of mood swings first?

Or do you try to put it into context, attempting to compare it to other games over the years, across different sports, to figure out where it stands in your personal pantheon of greatest games ever? Done, it should be noted, with the adrenaline and emotions of the moment still pumping through your system, and very little sleep to boot?

I don’t know how to do it. The game ended a scant eight hours ago and I’m still trying to take it all in.

Here’s the important thing: the Kansas City Royals won a post season, elimination baseball contest. Their season will continue for at least three more games.

There was so much of everything last night.

Brandon Moss’ home run in the first inning that quieted the roaring, raucous crowd. Billy Butler’s RBI smash in the bottom of the first that reignited the crowd. The bizarre play where Butler, of all people, got picked off first to end the inning.

Lorenzo Cain, who has surprisingly been the Royals most consistent hitter this year, getting a couple huge hits, including the RBI double and later scoring to put the Royals up 3-2 in the third.

James Shields steadying himself and mowing down seven-straight A’s, causing many of us to start counting outs until the bullpen took over.

The bloop and barely missed pitches on balls three and four to Josh Donaldson in the 6th that chased Shields. The bizarre decision to bring a rookie starter, who has not relieved all year, into an elimination game with two on and no outs two days after his last start. The utter quietness as Moss blasted his second home run of the night that kicked off a five-run inning. The bleakness of realizing the Royals had to find a way to come back, again, against KC killer Jon Lester. Then, the anger at Ned Yost for overthinking things, yet again, and likely having just cost the Royals their season.

(It was at this point I looked up Bart Giamatti’s lovely line about the end of the baseball season and posted it to Facebook. The Royals were done; the season was over.)

Cain, Butler, and Hosmer again being in the middle of the three-run rally to pull the Royals to within one in the 8th. Quickly followed by the anger of the Royals, YET AGAIN, not scoring a runner from third with less than two outs.

The nerves of Greg Holland putting two on in the 9th. The relief of him closing the door.

The joy of Nori Aoki sending a ball deep to right to score Jarrod Dyson and tie the game in the 9th.

The raw power and infinite promise of Brandon Finnegan who, if he never does anything in the rest of his career, has earned a spot in Royals lore with his two shut down innings of relief.

The lunacy of Yost bunting in every inning.

The sense of doom when former Royal Alberto Callaspo whistled a shot to left, scoring Josh Reddick in the 12th to give the A’s the lead.

And then that glorious bottom of the 12th. Hosmer’s blast, which just missed going out. Christian Colon coming off the DL and hitting the ball 40 feet, but far enough to get Hosmer home to tie. Then, Colon steals a base on a dropped pitch out and Salvador Perez, who looked absolutely terrible all night, swinging at another bad ball but somehow pulling a pitch that was six inches outside past Donaldson at third to bring Colon home.

Madness. Disbelief. Chaos. Sheer freaking joy. Twenty-nine years of angst and anger and disappointment and embarrassment and losing kicked to the curb in four hours and 45 minutes of amazing baseball.

It wasn’t always pretty. As is their nature, the Royals and their manager often couldn’t get out of their own way. But guys came up big all night. Cain, Butler, Hosmer, and Colon were all excellent. Finnegan was an absolute beast until he tired in the 12th. Everyone took the extra base with abandon. And the final scoring line showed the home team with one more run than the visitors.

Just amazing. Even with only about three and a half hours of sleep last night¹, I feel giddy this morning. I’m excited to go in for my shift at the St. P’s library this morning and talk about the game with the librarian, who is a St. Louis native but has lived in Kansas City a couple times in her adult life². It’s one of those days where you want to watch the highlights over-and-over, read as many columns and recaps as you can find. And each time I smile and shake my head in disbelief. Is this team, which has been so pathetic for so long, really doing this?

Also, I need to address a question some of you may be asking. Did I watch the game, since we turned cable off last spring? No, I did not. After much internal debate for the last two weeks, I decided to wait and see if the Royals made it to the ALDS before going back to cable. So I listened to Denny and Ryan call the game, which was fine. Between that and Twitter and a lot of texts and emails, I was really into the game. I’ll admit, though, I wish I had made the call I’m going to make to AT&T in a few hours on Monday. Man, was the crowd loud on the radio feed, though.³

So where does this fit in? A friend who is also a KU alum said last night this was the #4 best sporting event of his life, after the two KU national titles and the 1985 World Series. In the glow of the day after, that seems reasonable.

In fact, I can draw a lot of comparisons between this game and the 2008 national title game between KU and Memphis. The games both seemed lost before a furious rally tied it. Both games needed extra time to resolve matters.

But I think the comparisons end there. The 2008 game was really well-played all night. Each team would go on runs then the other would answer. There were no moments where I was wondering what the hell Bill Self was doing the way I did with Yost last night. And KU seized control early in overtime, scoring the first seven points and never letting Memphis get closer than four. That game was over the second Mario Chalmers hit his shot. Last night’s game ebbed and flowed through the three extra frames, with the Royals blowing opportunities to put it away and then needing one more comeback to get the win. And, obviously, the title game ended the season for both teams while last night sent the Royals on to the next round of the playoffs.

I think it’s probably the most incredible baseball game I can recall, jumping ahead of other notable games because I cared who won. Game six of the 1985 World Series was a tense thriller, but all the runs were scored in the last two innings. Games four and five of the 2004 ALCS were such fun to watch, but although I was pulling for Boston, it was not my team that was on the verge of defeat then. Game six of the 2011 World Series was about as crazy and entertaining of a game as has ever been played. But I had no real rooting interest that year.

No game that I can recall had so many moments of absolute despair countered by such unbridled joy as last night’s.

And the Royals get to keep playing! The playoffs, once you get beyond the Wild Card game, are built for teams with strong pitching. The Royals have wobbled a bit lately, but pitching is their strength. Despite the Angels having the best record in the league this year, the Royals absolutely have a decent shot of winning. I’ll need to get some rest before these first two West Coast games. And call AT&T.

Man, where to begin?

How do you write about a game like that? Do you write about all the ups and downs, all the twists and turns, the nearly five hours of mood swings first?

Or do you try to put it into context, attempting to compare it to other games over the years, across different sports, to figure out where it stands in your personal pantheon of greatest games ever? Done, it should be noted, with the adrenaline and emotions of the moment still pumping through your system, and very little sleep to boot?

I don’t know how to do it. The game ended a scant eight hours ago and I’m still trying to take it all in.

Here’s the important thing: the Kansas City Royals won a post season, elimination baseball contest. Their season will continue for at least three more games.

There was so much of everything last night.

Brandon Moss’ home run in the first inning that quieted the roaring, raucous crowd. Billy Butler’s RBI smash in the bottom of the first that reignited the crowd. The bizarre play where Butler, of all people, got picked off first to end the inning.

Lorenzo Cain, who has surprisingly been the Royals most consistent hitter this year, getting a couple huge hits, including the RBI double and later scoring to put the Royals up 3–2 in the third.

James Shields steadying himself and mowing down seven-straight A’s, causing many of us to start counting outs until the bullpen took over.

The bloop and barely missed pitches on balls three and four to Josh Donaldson in the 6th that chased Shields. The bizarre decision to bring a rookie starter, who has not relieved all year, into an elimination game with two on and no outs two days after his last start. The utter quietness as Moss blasted his second home run of the night that kicked off a five-run inning. The bleakness of realizing the Royals had to find a way to come back, again, against KC killer Jon Lester. Then, the anger at Ned Yost for overthinking things, yet again, and likely having just cost the Royals their season.

(It was at this point I looked up Bart Giamatti’s lovely line about the end of the baseball season and posted it to Facebook. The Royals were done; the season was over.)

Cain, Butler, and Hosmer again being in the middle of the three-run rally to pull the Royals to within one in the 8th. Quickly followed by the anger of the Royals, YET AGAIN, not scoring a runner from third with less than two outs.

The nerves of Greg Holland putting two on in the 9th. The relief of him closing the door.

The joy of Nori Aoki sending a ball deep to right to score Jarrod Dyson and tie the game in the 9th.

The raw power and infinite promise of Brandon Finnegan who, if he never does anything in the rest of his career, has earned a spot in Royals lore with his two shut down innings of relief.

The lunacy of Yost bunting in every inning.

The sense of doom when former Royal Alberto Callaspo whistled a shot to left, scoring Josh Reddick in the 12th to give the A’s the lead.

And then that glorious bottom of the 12th. Hosmer’s blast, which just missed going out. Christian Colon coming off the DL and hitting the ball 40 feet, but far enough to get Hosmer home to tie. Then, Colon steals a base on a dropped pitch out and Salvador Perez, who looked absolutely terrible all night, swinging at another bad ball but somehow pulling a pitch that was six inches outside past Donaldson at third to bring Colon home.

Madness. Disbelief. Chaos. Sheer freaking joy. Twenty-nine years of angst and anger and disappointment and embarrassment and losing kicked to the curb in four hours and 45 minutes of amazing baseball.

It wasn’t always pretty. As is their nature, the Royals and their manager often couldn’t get out of their own way. But guys came up big all night. Cain, Butler, Hosmer, and Colon were all excellent. Finnegan was an absolute beast until he tired in the 12th. Everyone took the extra base with abandon. And the final scoring line showed the home team with one more run than the visitors.

Just amazing. Even with only about three and a half hours of sleep last night[1], I feel giddy this morning. I’m excited to go in for my shift at the St. P’s library this morning and talk about the game with the librarian, who is a St. Louis native but has lived in Kansas City a couple times in her adult life[2]. It’s one of those days where you want to watch the highlights over-and-over, read as many columns and recaps as you can find. And each time I smile and shake my head in disbelief. Is this team, which has been so pathetic for so long, really doing this?

Also, I need to address a question some of you may be asking. Did I watch the game, since we turned cable off last spring? No, I did not. After much internal debate for the last two weeks, I decided to wait and see if the Royals made it to the ALDS before going back to cable. So I listened to Denny and Ryan call the game, which was fine. Between that and Twitter and a lot of texts and emails, I was really into the game. I’ll admit, though, I wish I had made the call I’m going to make to AT&T in a few hours on Monday. Man, was the crowd loud on the radio feed, though.[3]

So where does this fit in? A friend who is also a KU alum said last night this was the #4 best sporting event of his life, after the two KU national titles and the 1985 World Series. In the glow of the day after, that seems reasonable.

In fact, I can draw a lot of comparisons between this game and the 2008 national title game between KU and Memphis. The games both seemed lost before a furious rally tied it. Both games needed extra time to resolve matters.

But I think the comparisons end there. The 2008 game was really well-played all night. Each team would go on runs then the other would answer. There were no moments where I was wondering what the hell Bill Self was doing the way I did with Yost last night. And KU seized control early in overtime, scoring the first seven points and never letting Memphis get closer than four. That game was over the second Mario Chalmers hit his shot. Last night’s game ebbed and flowed through the three extra frames, with the Royals blowing opportunities to put it away and then needing one more comeback to get the win. And, obviously, the title game ended the season for both teams while last night sent the Royals on to the next round of the playoffs.

I think it’s probably the most incredible baseball game I can recall, jumping ahead of other notable games because I cared who won. Game six of the 1985 World Series was a tense thriller, but all the runs were scored in the last two innings. Games four and five of the 2004 ALCS were such fun to watch, but although I was pulling for Boston, it was not my team that was on the verge of defeat then. Game six of the 2011 World Series was about as crazy and entertaining of a game as has ever been played. But I had no real rooting interest that year.

No game that I can recall had so many moments of absolute despair countered by such unbridled joy as last night’s.

And the Royals get to keep playing! The playoffs, once you get beyond the Wild Card game, are built for teams with strong pitching. The Royals have wobbled a bit lately, but pitching is their strength. Despite the Angels having the best record in the league this year, the Royals absolutely have a decent shot of winning. I’ll need to get some rest before these first two West Coast games. And call AT&T.

When I went upstairs at about 1:30, C. was sprawled on my side of the bed. So I went to her room to lay down. She had so much crap scattered on her bed I had to go sleep on the extra twin in L.’s room. I think that three and a half hours was optimistic. I don’t mind.  ↩

We saw her yesterday on our way out of the parking lot. She waved and yelled, “Go Royals! I was there the last time they were in it!”  ↩

I briefly considered going to a bar to watch the game. But then I thought, “American League playoff game starting at 8:00,” and figured it would be a long night and not the smartest move to drive home. I’m really glad I skipped that option. I think most of the places close to my house close at midnight on weeknights, anyway, so I would have had to come home to listen to the end, anyway.  ↩

We’ve been waiting on this day since October 28, 1985, the day after the last Kansas City Royals post-season game. On that morning, I went off to school, two months into my freshman year of high school. There was a buzz in the air from the Royals winning the World Series the night before. We were putting the final touches on packing up the duplex my mom and I had lived in for five years, along with all of my step-dad’s items he had moved in over the summer, preparing to move into a brand new house the following weekend.

I doubt I spent much time thinking about the future of my favorite baseball team that morning. But I’m pretty sure if I had, I would have never guessed the next time the Royals were in the playoffs I would be grown and married, have three kids, and be living 500 miles away. And, of course, be nearly three decades older.

But here we are, September 30, 2014. I will wear Royals gear today not out of generic home town pride or irony, but rather because it’s the biggest Royals game day since Bret Saberhagen took the hill the evening of October 27, 1985.

I hope, late tonight, I will look back and think it was worth the wait.

It goes back to 1978, I believe.

Football was the first sport I discovered, but baseball followed soon after. We lived in southeast Missouri at the time, in the heart of Cardinals country. But on a trip to Kansas City that summer, my uncles and the boyfriend of one of my cousins introduced me to the Royals.

I still remember repeating the name “George Brett” over-and-over to myself so I wouldn’t forget it after the boyfriend explained to me that Brett was not only the Royals best player, but one of the best players in all of baseball. I got to tag along on his date with my cousin¹ and I know I lost the name a few times and had to ask for it again.

“Who is that guy you said was the best player?”

I also remember how cool the name Amos Otis sounded to me.

Later on that trip, my dad and uncle took me to a game at Royals Stadium. I remember Dennis Leonard was pitching against the Chicago White Sox. Other than that, I recall little, other than how big the stadium looked from our upper deck seats.

Once I returned home, I began watching the NBC Game of the Week on Saturday, and Monday Night Baseball on ABC, hoping the Royals would be on. When school started in the fall, I checked out every baseball biography I could find to learn more about the game. On the nights the Cardinals were on TV, I watched and tried to discern the rules of the game.

I remember coming home from school one day that fall, turning on the radio, and hearing on the news that George Brett had hit three home runs in a playoff game in New York. The Yankees won the game, and the series, though, meaning I was in on the final heartbreak of that 1976-78 run. That was the first time sports made me cry.

By the time the next baseball season rolled around, I was well prepared. I had my Zander Hollander baseball guide. I knew who the best players in both leagues were. I had a modest collection of baseball cards. On our annual trip to Kansas City that summer we tried to get general admission seats to a game when the young phenom Rich Gale was pitching for the Royals against California’s Nolan Ryan. My uncle and cousin waited in line for nearly an hour, but before they got to the ticket window the game sold out. When told that we would be going home to listen to the game, I cried again.

I remember bits of the 1978 World Series, but I devoured the 1979 series, that epic clash between the Orioles and Pop Stargell’s Pirates. I knew the Royals would be there next year, and wanted to be prepared.

We moved to Kansas City in July of 1980. My first weekend in town, the Royals played an amazing series in the Bronx against the Yankees. Brett put one into the upper deck Friday night. Willie Wilson went 10-15 that weekend. The Royals won two of three from the hated Yanks.

A couple weeks later I was listening when Denny Matthews told me that George Brett was doffing his helmet to the crowd after his double lifted his batting average over the .400 mark. In early October, our teachers gave us a bonus recess during game one of the ALCS. A few kids went outside but most of us stayed in our room and watched the game, which featured a Brett home run. A few nights later Brett hit another massive blast in the Bronx and the Royals were on their way to the World Series. I celebrated in my aunt and uncle’s living room.

The World Series was a blur. Blown leads in the first two games. Brett and Willie Mays Aikens bring the Royals back in games three and four. Walking through a nearly deserted and deathly quiet Bannister Mall after Dan Quisenberry blew game five while I waited for my parents to get off work. Wilson’s strike out to end the series that again caused me to weep.

No other year was ever like 1980 for me. I was still a huge baseball and Royals fan. My card collection grew dramatically. My June birthday meant most of my gifts were Royals or baseball related. I harbored secret wishes that my newly divorced mom would meet George Brett and he would be my step-father. But the Royals started slow in 1981, the strike wiped out two months of the season, and I was now playing baseball. The Royals weren’t everything to me. I had my own team to worry about.

My best memories of the years between 1980 and 1985 are the warm summer nights I spent at my grandparents’ home in central Kansas. If the Royals were playing, they always had the kitchen radio tuned to the game so grandma could listen while cleaning up after dinner, and grandpa had a radio he carried everywhere with him so he wouldn’t miss a pitch. We would sit on their front porch listening to the game, eating ice cream, while watching the sun set. He and I watched the Pine Tar game together in disbelief. The first thing he said to me after his late afternoon nap that day was, “That damn Billy Martin.”

The fall of 1985 was fantastic. The Royals roared back to take the division, then the ALCS, and finally the World Series. It was the fulfillment of all my baseball hopes and dreams. And, sadly, it was the end of the glory years.

The team got older and faded. Danny Manning and Michael Jordan made me reevaluate which sport I loved the most. Heading to college changed things, making me as obsessed about college basketball as I ever was about baseball. The final straw came when the Royals signed an aging Kirk Gibson rather than hometown guy Joe Carter. I filed for divorce, leaving the team I had loved most first behind. Then the 1994-95 strike and lockout pushed me away from the game itself.

Eventually, I came back. At first, it was casually and as an uninterested spectator. I’d go if someone else had tickets, and mostly to make fun of the Royals. A few years later I was part of a season ticket package. The bursts of hope that came with the arrivals of Mike Sweeny, Carlos Beltran, Johnny Damon, and Jermaine Dye were short-lived. Soon the franchise was a complete joke, losing games at a record pace while refusing to spend money to improve the roster. I said, not completely jokingly, that one day Kaufman Stadium would be the nicest stadium in AAA baseball. Yet I was paying attention. Slowly but surely I became a fan once again.

When I moved to Indianapolis, that changed everything again. The Royals were decent that summer, and the team became one of my hooks back to my home town. Not all of my KC friends shared my love of KU sports, but just about everyone was a Royals fan. The team’s successes and failures were an excuse to send an email back to my buddies who I knew were watching too. Each year when a new season began, I dropped $120 on the MLB.TV package. Most seasons I was done watching games by June, as the Royals were hopelessly out of the race already. But I would continue to listen to the games deep into the summer. Maybe not every night, but several times a week they were the soundtrack to evening lounging or lazy weekend afternoons. They may not listen with me the way I listened with my grandfather, but I hope when my girls are older, they associate summer with me sitting and listening to baseball games.

“You know, your grandfather used to listen to baseball every night on his phone…”

Last year it appeared the Royals were out of it by the All-Star break again. But a late July hot streak shot them back into the Wild Card chase, and I was watching every night. Although they were only on the fringes of the pennant race, it still felt good to be watching them playing meaningful games in September for the first time since I was a freshman in high school.

And then this year. All the hopes and expectations of nearly 30 years were laid on top of this one season. Predictably, the Royals appeared to be circling the drain in late May. Three weeks later they were in first place. A mid-July swoon dashed those hopes and had fans who had been afraid to get their hopes up angry that they had been fooled again.

So the Royals naturally ripped off their best month since the late 1970s, taking the division lead for three weeks, getting feature articles in magazines and newspapers across the country, and producing dozens, if not hundreds, of posts just like this.

Today, four games remain in the 2014 season. The Royals trail Detroit for the AL Central lead by two games. They’re tied with Oakland for the Wild Card lead. Seattle is two games behind. With two more wins, the Royals are in the playoffs. With two more Seattle losses, the Royals are in the playoffs. ESPN lists the Royals playoff odds at 99.9%. It’s not quite over, but it’s damn close.

The Royals post-season could be quick. They will likely face Oakland pitcher Jon Lester in the Wild Card game, and he has owned the Royals in his career. Two-and-a-half to three hours after Lester or James Shields throws their first pitch, the Royals could be done, with only a loss in a 163rd game to show for their years of building and rebuilding and an uncertain future ahead of them.

It’s been a fantastic season. Even for all their problems, the Royals have done enough to be one of the six best teams in the American League. A few breaks here and there and they could be winning the division, and guarantee themselves at least a five-game division series. But if that one game Wild Card playoff is all we get, I’ll accept it happily.

One game after 29 years of hoping and waiting and leaving and coming back and hoping again.

Sadly I didn’t get to this before Monday afternoon’s disaster in Comerica Park in Detroit. But still, the Royals are one game into their biggest regular season series since that epic series with the (then) California Angels in September 1985. The big differences are that Angels series was in KC and during the final week of the season. When the Royals caught the Angels that week, they needed just two more wins to clinch the division.

This time, the R’s are in Detroit and there’s still plenty of baseball no matter what happens in these three games. Importantly, the teams play one more series back in KC to (potentially) balance whatever happens this week.

Still, there was a buzz in the air Monday anticipating the late afternoon start.¹ Sure, it was going to be tough to beat Verlander, Scherzer, and Porcello. But in a season where crazy things keep happening, anything felt possible.

And then…

Misplays in the field. A bad time for a really crappy start by Jeremy Guthrie. Detroit ripping balls down the line and hitting soft liners that landed on the chalk.

A terrible start. But the beauty of baseball is that they get to try again today. I have a feeling Scherzer mows down the Royals tonight. Hopefully Jason Vargas can slow down the Tigers bats, too. But then James Shields will be nails on Wednesday and put the Royals back into first place with just over two weeks to play.

The last couple of weeks have been nerve-racking yet tremendous fun. Alex Gordon hitting huge, potentially career-defining home runs. The pitching staff being lights-out almost every night. The defense rising to the occasion more often than not. Baseball that really matters in late August and early September.

As so many people have written, the way the Royals are doing this is not sustainable. But it also harkens back to how that 1985 team won: great pitching, scratching out just enough hits to win. And the thing about sustainability is that this doesn’t have to last forever. Just two more weeks and, suddenly, the game turns to the Royals’ advantage. Playoff baseball is made for strong starting pitching and dominant relievers. We’ve seen it time-and-again in the Wild Card era. A team gets hot on the mound and rides them to back-to-back best of seven series wins.

Realistically, I expect the Royals to come up short. There’s just not enough juice in their bats and it’s hard to believe they can keep winning while scoring only one or two runs a night. And even with Detroit’s health issues, they have bats up and down their lineup and a pitching staff that keeps them in any series. That realist in me sees Detroit finally putting it together for a hot 15-game stretch and winning the division by three or four games. Meanwhile Seattle keeps winning and the Royals not only miss out on the division title, but on the second wild card spot.

But, you know what? The Tigers have only played really good ball for a few weeks in May and July. Why would they suddenly put it together now? They’ve battled injuries all year. Why not lose Miguel Cabrera for two weeks, or David Price develops a blister on his finger, of JD Martinez runs into a wall and goes on the concussion list. The Mariners still have 11 games against the A’s and Angels. There’s no reason they can’t fall apart. And that streaky-ass Royals offense has enough time to crawl out of this latest deep freeze and hit the ball hard for a couple weeks to put this thing away.

It’s been a ridiculously fun and tense six weeks for us Royals fans. The first time I’ve felt like this since I was 14 and starting high school. I hope they can keep it going for two more weeks so we can see what happens that last weekend of the season.

Wow. It was almost exactly a year ago that I wrote about a weekend series in Kansas City between the Royals and Red Sox, wondering if we would look back on it as the high point of the season. The Royals drifted, then climbed back to the periphery of the Wild Card race, staying in it until the final week of the season.

After this past weekend’s sweep of the Giants, I’m tempted to write a similar post. Will we look back on the crowds of last weekend, the play of the team, the good vibes surrounding the organization and say, “Man, that was great. But it was never that fun again,”?

I’m thinking no, that will not be the high point this year. Even if the Royals come back to earth this week, which seems likely given how hot they’ve been for the past two weeks, the math is much more in their favor this year than last. After the A’s four-gamer, they have, arguably, the easiest remaining schedule of any contender. Detroit, Toronto, and Cleveland are all suffering from injury woes. No team in the American League can seem to put together a hot 20-30 days and run away from the field.¹

For an organization that has desperately sought the breaks to go its way for a quarter century, the dominoes might finally be lining up in their favor.

I’ve said before that sometimes Twitter is the worst thing that can happen to a sports fan. For all the sources of quick information you can tap into, it can also turn into a stream of unending cynicism, bitterness, and anger when things go bad. That’s often been the case in the Royals’ corner of the Twittersphere this time of year.

But this weekend was something else. Normally negative voices were expressing their disbelief at what was happening. Again, for the first time in forever, there are good vibes around this team. We were having a lake weekend with many guests, so I could only check in to watch the scores and read Tweets occasionally. Each time I turned on the phone, though, I was delighted to see the Royals were ahead and then read a series of Tweets relaying the magic of what was happening at The K.

I’m as cynical as anyone about this franchise. I’m as distrusting and outright hostile to the ownership and front office as anyone. But, as Rany wrote last night, it sure feels like a moment to set all that aside, to not fear the historically inevitable turn when it all goes wrong, and just watch and enjoy.

Baseball, more than any other sport, taps into the memories of your childhood. This year is beginning to feel a little like that glorious late summer and early fall of 1985, when a team with not much hitting but a stacked pitching staff clawed back from well behind the division lead to catch, and then pass, California in the final week of the season. Which, of course, was just the beginning.

Hey, we can dream big for a minute, can’t we?