Last year, I wrote this. I still have not seen Chris Berman and I feel my chances slipping away, but my feelings still ring true.
I was six the first time I went to a baseball game. My family was vacationing to Kansas City, a glorious and beautiful oasis in the summer. By oasis, I do mean it’s like being in a barbecue smoker for days at a time.
We went to Kauffman stadium and sat, watching the Royals play another team. I, of course, remember very few details. As a six year old, I paid very little attention to the action. After all, there were hot dogs and a sweet jumbotron in the outfield. Who cares what George Brett is up to?
As time passed, I became more and more in love with baseball. A move to Kansas City gave me a team to root for and I watched as Bob Hamelin and Joe Vitiello took the Royals from bad to… well, still very bad. Then a new group of Kansas City stars arrived…
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