Well, it’s time to buy a lottery ticket, I guess, because my Royals just won the World Series in dramatic fashion. Yet another extra-innings game, this one was decided in the 12th inning. The Royals were down 2-0 in the ninth, came back to tie it, and then busted the game wide open with five runs in the 12th to claim their first championship in thirty years. THIRTY YEARS!!! And all I can say is, it’s about goddamn time.
Royals win! Royals win!
I’ve rooted for this mediocre ball club damn near all my life, and lemme tell ya’– it was tough growing up a Royals fan in Southwest Missouri when almost everyone I knew was a Cardinals fan. But I wouldn’t trade my memories of being ridiculed for rooting for that losing club for anything now. To this day, I’ll never forget going to Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City as a ten-year-old kid to see my first MLB game. Not only did I get to see George Brett (one of my heroes) play, but I also got to see Bo Jackson break his bat on his knee after striking out. And let’s be serious here– watching Bo Jackson break a bat over his knee was waaaaaaay cooler than watching him get a hit.
Bo knows breaking (both bats and hips)
I’ve waited thirty fucking years for this moment (the Royals last won a World Series in 1985, against the Cardinals no less), and the wait has finally paid off. I can’t help but realize that this would’ve meant a whole helluva lot more to me if it’d happened when I was twelve years old. But as Charlie Brown said when he was reluctantly given leftover valentines, “I’ll take it!”