KC Royals fans are made from a special breed. They are loyal, accepting, and patient.
Hey, they did beat the Braves. Right? And they used to be good.
The team is terrible, but we’d never say that, so it’s all good. As long as we don’t start pointing fingers, that’s unsightly. If I was going to point fingers, which I’m not, it would be in the general direction of Ned Yost. And maybe the Kansas City Royals fans.
The fans because we watched all these games, when we should have been mowing our lawns, a perpetual activity this time of year in the Midwest. My mantras for the next few weeks will be “Ride your mowers, not the Royals”, “Spray dandelions, not singles”, and “Mow Drabowskies”.
I’m coming up with some real zingers here so you’ll probably want to bookmark and hashtag me. Don’t forget to add me to your GeoCities and MySpace pages.
Ned Yost because, well, Ned is Ned. He’s too nice sometimes.
When Yost sees something he questions, he should go out on the field and DEMAND an explanation. If he’s not happy with that or if he senses an attitude, he needs to throw all of the bats out of the dugout. Then all the baseballs. Then his shoes, shirt and pants. The full on Majestic team-issued KC Royals uniform top to bottom. Then you start “kicking dirt” dawg.
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I don’t mean a kick in the air, I’m talking complete delivery of one half yard of topsoil. Start with his shoes, fill ’em up. Then his pants all the way to his belt. I’d kick dirt all the way up to his shoulders so he couldn’t move. Then I’d put two drinking straws up his nose so he could still breathe and let him have it. “Are you kidding me? You crazy , &%@*# idiotic, superfluous, hairy, nerdalistic, no-good, *%@&# weirdo, son of a luddite, you call that… etc.!”
And that would be my daily greeting to KC Royals mascot Sluggerrr!
The umpire should get the full treatment. Then nod to Salvy, who grabs the ice bucket and chases the ump around the field and douse him with Gatorade turning him into a mountain of orange mud. Now that’s baseball the way it’s meant to be played.
I’d be happy to kick the dirt if Ned needs someone. Especially on the umpires. I’d love to walk down from the 27th row and demand an explanation, lest the topsoil fly. And have the appropriate credentials. KU’s famous basketball coach Bill Self could kick some serious sand. I’ve seen him do it. And that was on the basketball court. He’d be better with actual dirt.
Before you criticize, here’s a nice poem:
Look in the mirror, What do you see? That’s your reflection dummy, I meant facetiously.
(I didn’t say it was good, I said it rhymed.)
Don’t always be the first to point the finger. Sometimes it’s better to be the second or third.
I bet Jonny Gomes could kick some dirt if Bill and I don’t work out.
The fans aren’t blameless. Just look at their lawns. Grass growing unchecked as we speak. You can hear it if you listen closely.
At a time like this, J Guts (Jeremy Guthrie) is missed also. We could use one of his team speeches when he got so excited no one could understand a word that he said, but the cadence was excellent, and we all had a great time.
Let’s Go KC Royals!