i interrupt my usual fashion posts to share this pump-up email my brother-in-law sent out yesterday because it is just TOO good. feel free to share 😉 ps: he has no idea i am posting this for all to see, muahaha!
So it’s Monday afternoon, Royals are down 3-2, backs up against the wall–two must wins at home.
I’ll be honest, the last 2 days have hurt, they’ve hurt bad; being outscored 16-4 in 2 games is going to leave a bad taste in your mouth.
On Saturday, for as many times as the Royals have come back to win games I thought we would lose, for the first time this postseason we lost a game I thought we would win. Then Sunday ‘left-handed Jesus’ as the d-bag Cali bro I had to watch Game 1 with called him, killed us AGAIN. Not fun games to watch.
So last night I got pissed..
Pissed at Alcides for not catching a grounder
Pissed at Dyson for diving to catch a ball I thought he could have caught standing up
Pissed at Shields for not pissing out his kidney stone and giving us an ace performance
Pissed at Marlins Guy for reasons that don’t need explaining
Pissed at Hunter Pence for his socks
Pissed at Hunter Pence again for throwing like a girl
Pissed at Sandoval for being so fat
Pissed at the National Anthem singer for butchering it (maybe he should try the Malaysian National Anthem)
Pissed at Matt for marrying into an SF family that could very well be messing up our mojo
And pissed at myself for not putting my lucky Moose jersey on until the 3rd inning
In my head I was making all the excuses I had made for years and years and years ‘Oh its not fair; our payroll is so much lower than theirs’ ‘Oh its not fair, nobody wants to play in KC over sunny California’ ‘Oh its not fair that we’ve been mismanaged for so long that we can’t possibly be good enough to win the World Series this quickly’.
I had to shut myself up.
I’ll tell you why.
Kansas doesn’t have time for excuses, that’s why. We are nose-to-the-grindstone people. We don’t enjoy fine wine. We don’t enjoy opera. We don’t effing grow kale, lemongrass, and 4 other hippie crops I’ve never heard of in right-center. Our right-center is a BBQ place that sells a helmet full of brisket-cheesy corn nachos (#Keegs). That’s who we are. That’s who we want to be.
For Kansans, excuses are the first sign of weakness, of giving up. Look at all the great Kansans in history:
Did Eisenhower make excuses for how hard Europe was going to be to invade? No, he took our boys over there, whipped out the ‘Abilene Agony’ (yes, that is what he called it, you can trust me I read his biography) and smacked Hitler in the face with it en route to becoming the greatest president of all time.
Did Amelia Earhart make excuses for being a woman? No, she saddled up, got in that cockpit and…
the point is she didn’t make excuses.
Did Clint Boyer make excuses in 2004-2007 when everyone told him he’d never win the title? Hell no, he drove the #07 Jack Daniels car straight from Talladega into the hearts of Americans everywhere #emporialegend
Did Connor Halpin make excuses when the BC freshman team was down 27-0 at half to Peru State? Yes, yes he did. And that’s why they went on to lose 49-13. And that’s why Connor will never go pro.
What I’m trying to say is, THE TIME FOR EXCUSES IS OVER. It’s un-American and un-Kansan, let those pansies over in SF make excuses when THEY lose the World Series, not us. Its coming back to KC. This is where we are in control. Our City. Our Time.
Take the Crown