(Begin disclaimer)
I know we're a huge-market team. I know we get a disproportionate share of ink. I know actual Royals fans will be horrified that I'd even dare to find common cause with them, given our vast payroll, reasonably bright prospects and appetite for whatever free agents we desire.
But I came of baseball-fan age in the late 1970s, and back then the Mets were the Royals. The Royals were constantly in the playoffs battling the Yankees to the death, and meanwhile we had GMs who sent free agents laughably below-market free-agent offers by telegram. We traded Tom Seaver. We and about 1,000 others watched Mettle the Mule. We put up with crappy starting pitchers whose hats fell off after every goddamn pitch. And in suburban Long Island, every single day after school I had to put up with an endless parade of dirt-bike-riding, rock-throwing, sniggering Muttleys, Yankee fans who found nothing more astonishing and entertaining than the idea that they shared the Earth — never mind Long Island — with actual Met fans.
So yes, I claim this column as mine despite the differences between 1978 and 2006. Because reading it this morning was a balm for old wounds inflicted at an age that ensures they'll never heal, and because I found it a rallying cry for all those, in any sport and league and era, who are proud to stand up and say, “Hell no, I ain't no Yankee fan.”
(End disclaimer)
Anyway, this is the peerless Joe Posnanski, in this morning's Kansas City Star. He's answering an email from a young Royals fan having a crisis of faith:
First, hang in there. You talk about how all your fourth-grade friends make fun of you because you are a Royals fan. Listen: Throughout history, there have been men and women like Galileo, Joan of Arc and Thomas More who were condemned and even executed for their views. And as brave as they were — you can ask your teacher about this — not one of them had the courage to admit being a Royals fan.
Yes, it is hard being a Royals fan in these troubled times. But, take comfort in this: You are doing the right thing. Yes, as you say, some of your Kansas City friends take the easy route and choose the Yankees or Red Sox or Cardinals as their favorite teams. My dear friend, you will run into these kinds of people all your life. They will cut you off on highways. They will go through the 12-items-and-under supermarket lane with enough food to feed the Three Tenors. They will push their airline seats all the way back into your pelvis on overseas flights.
You are different. You write, “I will love the Royals, no matter what.” You are worth so much more than the kid who ran out to pick up a Chicago White Sox hat last year.
Now read the rest [1].