One Sunday many, many years ago, I was sitting in children's church. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but we'll go with "itty bitty."
It was prayer request time. We got to take turns telling what we wanted to pray about that day. It was a big deal - prayer requests were to be about things near and dear to our hearts. Most of the kids had prayer requests about their parents, grandparents, and friends. Every now and then, a little kid would throw in a request about a pet.
It was my turn to make a prayer request. It was my time to talk about something near and dear to my heart. I solemnly told the children's church teachers that Bo Jackson was hurt and that he had to get surgery. I told them that when he came back to baseball, he would only be 60%.
When it was prayer time, all of the children got in a circle and held hands. We went around the circle and made our prayers. When it was my turn, I sincerely asked God to help Bo Jackson, because he got hurt and he would only be 60%.
A few of the older kids giggled during my prayer. I didn't understand why anyone would laugh about that.
A couple of Sundays ago, I found out that Zack Greinke, ace pitcher for my beloved Royals, was traded to the Milwaukee Brewers. The news hit me hard. I can't say I was surprised. I was just disappointed. And ticked. I mean, it's one thing to lose a Cy Young winner, but he was traded for a bunch of no-names. That's kind of what the Royals organization does. They develop stars, and then they piss them away for prospects with sub-par fielding and .231 batting averages (if they're lucky). It's the same ol' song and dance year after year, and the dance, at its best, is on Bristol Palin's level of proficiency.
And you know, I'm really getting tired of watching a terrible team every season. I may have false hope, but I'm not delusional. I've never seriously entertained the thought of leaving the Royals, but I came darn close the few days after the trade.
However, as I was driving home the other day, "Centerfield" started playing on the radio. And immediately, I remembered what it was like to listen to this song in Kauffman Stadium, home of the Kansas City Royals. God, what a magical place. I've always said that Kauffman Stadium is the happiest place on Earth, even when the Royals are losing. And even though the Royals lose a lot, I feel like a giddy little kid every time I watch them play.
In my a job as an attorney, I have to see a lot of the bad that exists in the world. Baseball, however, takes me takes me away from that place and brings me the delightful memories of childhood, when I got to cheer on my heroes and eat cotton candy until I got sick (apparently, it did not take much cotton candy for that to happen). The world has a lot of hurt, but on baseball's worst day, the biggest thing I have to worry about is Bo Jackson being only 60%.
For now, I am still a Royals fan. And I will root root root for them, the home team, every single time. If they don't win, no one's surprised. But I'll root for them, just the same.