I’ve been saying it for years, Kansas City has the best fans. Of course, I’ll add the disclaimer that I’m only 32 years old, grew up in Kansas City, attended the University of Kansas up the road in Lawrence, and now reside in the quiet suburb of Kansas City, Prairie Village. I’m no world traveler, and I’ve only been to three other ballparks in my life, so my authority on the subject is just that, subjective. Nevertheless, I stand by that statement, Kansas City has the best fans. And this Royals season only served as a public justification of what I’ve always known, but had a hard time putting into words, or backing up with statistics. It was more of a feeling, an energy, that I did my best to explain to outsiders, but always felt I was coming across a little convoluted.
Over the past 10 years, I’ve traveled a lot for business, and have had a chance to spend quality time in some of America’s most well known cities. I always make sure to pack my representative KC clothing, because I’m proud of my city. We all are. There’s a local pride that runs deeper than any other city I’ve spent any time in. We’re not quite the metropolis of a Chicago, or transient as New York, and we aren’t as off the map as a Tulsa; we’re part St. Louis, part Dallas, part Des Monies, part Chicago, part Northern California even. Our city is an amalgamation of everything great about every other city, crammed into a 2.34 million people that all operate more like a town than a big city. Some suggest we have an identity crisis, because we can’t decide if we are just a cow-town that’s hanging on to our agricultural roots, or we’re a burgeoning city that embraces the arts and tech startups. I think we’ve always known what we are, and that’s what has fueled our pride. We’re honest, hardworking, common sense folks who think paying a million dollars for an apartment doesn’t make any sense, and conversing with a stranger during a layover is the polite thing to do. And we love our sports teams with a devout dedication.
Our Truman Sports Complex is a microcosm of what we are as a city. We’re smack in the middle of everything and nothing, one giant parking lot with no bars or tables, forced to get along and interact with one and other, and celebrate passionately whether we’re headed to the playoffs, or another 90 loss season. Everyone is an equal at a Chiefs or a Royals game, a brother or sister, someone to high five as you walk down the spiraling walkway, borrow lighter fuel from to start your grill, or get a cold beer from when your cooler runs dry. I’ve had folks help me jump start my car after leaving my lights on, or give me a ride home when our ride had to leave unexpectedly.
We are a perennial afterthought on ESPN and the mega sports networks. Monday Night Football games are infrequent, star pitchers have clauses in their contracts that prohibit them from being traded here, and we’re called the “flyover zone.” Our NFL team won the 4th Super Bowl ever, yet hasn’t won a playoff game in over 20 years, and still the stadium is packed with 79,000 every Sunday. Our baseball team was relevant in the late 70’s and early 80’s, but hasn’t reached a playoff game in 29 years until now. And yet Kansas City still has the best fans.
Some people in other cities take pity on us for not having a downtown stadium, complete with sanctioned and trendy bar districts. I’m OK with that, because the fraternity of Kansas City sports cannot be explained to outsiders…it’s something that never leaves you if you were fortunate to grow up in it, it can’t be exchanged for a flashier and more winning team, and the highs of success – no matter how infrequent – will never be reveled in by a common bandwagoner, as it is to those of us that have been initiated to this brotherhood of Kansas City sports. This season, 29 years of paid dues has come to fruition, and I can think of no better family to celebrate with.
This season, Kansas City has explained to the world exactly why it is we have the best fans, and it goes beyond our historical win/loss records and fan attendance, loudest stadium record, or our miraculous eight game sweep into the World Series. It started with the serendipitous and communal engagement of Sung Woo Lee, a young man from South Korea who has been a fan of the Royals since the 90’s, a trying time to buy in to our team – especially for an outsider, but he did. And he’s stuck by us, was a regular contributor to the in-game Twitter conversations, and we welcomed him into this fraternity of Kansas City sports with open arms.
The other is Tim Grimes, the #RoyalsWinForTim movement, a more somber and life affirming kind of community support initiative, one that proves sports is really only a conduit to connecting with our neighbors, and our city, and a higher purpose.
My friend, and I say that with sincere gratitude, (and laugh at the possessive pronoun, because he’s thousands of people’s friends), was diagnosed on August 25th with stage IV melanoma cancer, that had spread to his liver, lungs, and spine. At 28, he was given less than a year to live.
For those who don’t know Tim, he is a Kansas Citian through and through, and a person you want to be around. His own brand of self-deprecating and often times shameless brand of humor, is perpetuated on every social media network, through creative 5 second videos and hilariously honest status updates. I can attest that they are as quick witted in person as they are digitally when clicking “update” on Facebook. He’s your average “guy’s guy” with no ulterior motive. He’s not trying to put on airs or have you believe he’s something he’s not. He’s inviting, friendly, complimentary, and comfortable in his own skin, He’s quick to make friends in any situation and will have you laughing within a matter of seconds. He’s also the biggest KC Royals fan I have ever met. It didn’t matter the magnitude of the series, or the write off of the season, he would be at Kauffman Stadium, sporting any number of jerseys or selection of hats, lounging in a lawn chair with a Boulevard Wheat. He is a fan of Kansas City.
“I just want to see the Royals win a World Series before it’s all over” he told me.
It was the latter half of August, and the Royals were at a crux in their season, never quite able to hold onto first place for any comfortable amount of time, and some unforeseen losses and anemic offensive outings were starting to mount in our rear-view mirror. The inspirational boost from Sung Woo Lee’s visit had been two weeks past, an eternity during this stretch of the baseball season. Tim was given news of an impending death sentence and published his report to his friends and family on Facebook. It didn’t sit right. I woke up thinking what I’d read was a dream. Faced with no insurance, mounting insurance bills, and a job that helped him only live month to month, his uphill battle would be enough for most iron-willed adults to curl up in a ball under the covers to avoid reality. But he didn’t get down, or treat his diagnoses with kid gloves. He laughed, and encouraged others to join him. “We cried for a few minutes and then we said that’s enough of that” he said. And my favorite tweet during a Royals loss, “C’mon Royals, you’re killing me! -Wait, too soon?
I had direct messaged Sung Woo Lee on Twitter at 2 in the morning, the night before the game. I’d explained to him Tim’s situation and asked if we could get some support going. I was afraid that my message would be buried under a stack of fan mail, it was even sent as a picture file of text because it’s length wouldn’t conform to the 140 character limit. I thought maybe he hadn’t seen it. But he had, and before any magic happened, he passed on the same gratitude and love he was given during his trip to Kansas City, right back into the karmic pool.
It was August 26th, and the Royals were down 1-0 in the bottom of the 9th to the Minnesota Twins. The “come from behind kids” hadn’t really made an appearance all season as they had throughout 2013, but that didn’t stop Alcides Escobar from getting a single against Glen Perkins, one of the league’s best closers.
“Tim was given a 5% chance of living to see next year, similar odds the sports networks gave the Royals to make the World Series….#RoyalsWinForTim…”
Alex Gordon stepped up to the plate, Alcides Escobar flinched at Perkins who couldn’t help but acknowledge the speed on first base. Perkins still delivered a strike at the knees of Gordon, who was simply biding his time.
“If this is your year, these are the games you win”said Denny Matthews, Kansas City’s hall of fame broadcaster on 610am as Gordon stretched the bat across his back and stepped into the box for the second pitch.
That next pitch was a hanging slider, and Alex Gordon connected on it and sent it into the standing room only section in right center field for a walk-off win. The Royals had won for Tim. It was just one win, but they had done it. And it became a turning point in the season, and the magical connection is undeniable.
Twitter was lighting up, the next few days and weeks were a whirlwind of $10 donations for each Royals win that began pouring in from strangers, media interviews, Bob Fescoe hosting one of the most emotional radio interviews I’ve ever heard, support from the team, from the city, Tim’s city, our city. And the Royals kept winning, and the support kept growing.
#RoyalsWinForTim turned into more than a hashtag, more than one person, it was a rally cry and an example of Kansas City supporting their own, in a sort of “no man left behind” mantra that exists within our Truman Sports Complex fraternity. Tim became a fixture at Royals games, getting to know the team on a first name basis, and even hugging our hometown, hall of fame hero George Brett on ESPN as we clinched a World Series berth.
Some suggest that Sung Woo Lee, #SungWootoKC, and Tim Grimes, #RoyalsWinForTim, are the Royals “good luck charms.” I can’t disagree, but I will even go further to say they are symbols of Kansas City’s fans. They are our own, and Kansas City has supported them magnanimously, just as we do with our sports teams. Kansas Citians would have done so if the Royals had remained 3 games out of the Wild Card. But the Royals didn’t. They won And throughout this magical haze that is happening right off of I-70 highway, I think we’ve only begun to see the effects of what 2.34 million people with love in their hearts, passion in their fandom, and pride in their city can accomplish.
The Royals are going to win the World Series, and Tim is going to beat cancer, and he will be there in April with us for the Home Opener. Sung Woo Lee is going to have a blast wearing t-shirts with his face printed on them and eating burnt ends at Arthur Bryant’s, and he will travel back to South Korea as even more of an international celebrity than before. The Royals team will play for something bigger than themselves, and they will have fun doing it, just as they have all season. And they are going to celebrate like tomorrow isn’t a given, just as we all will here in Kansas City.
Because when it’s your year, these are the types of things that happen. And this is our year, and we all deserve this, because Kansas City has the best fans.
If you’d like to contribute to Tim, please visit http://www.gofundme.com/dhdl74
Kansas City Ramblings 