Advertisement

Royals, and Kansas City, in no hurry to let season slide away

Share

It was an impulsive, almost whimsical decision, the kind college students make all the time. And so it was that Dayton Moore and his college buddy decided to pull off the freeway, head to the ballpark, and try to score a couple tickets for Game 7 of the 1985 World Series.

Too expensive.

Moore and his buddy thought about leaving, but they parked the car next to Interstate 70, overlooking what was then called Royals Stadium. You could peek into the ballpark from there, and a party already was in progress.

“We just tailgated, really,” Moore said.

What makes the story compelling is not just that Moore grew up to be the general manager of the Kansas City Royals. It is that no one dreamed that Moore would be an executive sporting a head full of gray hair by the time the World Series returned to Kansas City.

Advertisement

Bret Saberhagen was 21, and a Cy Young Award winner. George Brett was 32, already a 10-time All-Star, coming off a season in which he batted .335. The Royals were a model of excellence, with seven playoff appearances in 10 years.

Then came the lean years, and then the lean decades. In 2006, the Royals lost 100 games for the fourth time in five years, with attendance down almost half from a high of 2.5 million.

That was the year Moore was hired by owner David Glass, who had figured out he did not know what he was doing and was tired of the embarrassment. Glass asked Moore how long it would take the Royals to get back to championship form.

Eight to 10 years, Moore told Glass.

Glass hired him anyway. Then he sent Moore out to sell his plan to the fans, to explain why loyalists who had endured two decades of bad baseball should have to endure another one.

“I got crucified,” Moore said.

The Royals were not about to outspend the New York Yankees for free agents, and even if Glass wanted to try that, what first-rate player would want to play for a losing team? This would have to be about scouting and player development, and Moore said he arrived to find the Royals had no shortstop prospects, no left-handed pitching prospects and a Latin American scouting budget that ranked last among the 30 major league teams.

What makes this story so special is that Glass not only gave Moore the resources, but that he gave him the eight to 10 years, as promised.

Advertisement

The Dodgers’ new ownership group spent half a billion dollars on players because it did not believe it could sell Los Angeles on waiting three to five years to revitalize scouting and development. Glass stuck with a plan that doubled that wait.

The Royals kept losing. Moore made a poor managerial hire in Trey Hillman, then replaced him with Ned Yost, whom the Milwaukee Brewers had fired with two weeks left in a playoff-bound season.

The kids started coming, though. By 2011, the Royals had a home-grown core in place, including first baseman Eric Hosmer, third baseman Mike Moustakas, left fielder Alex Gordon, designated hitter Billy Butler — all first-round draft picks — and shortstop Alcides Escobar and center fielder Lorenzo Cain, each acquired from the Brewers in a trade for the disgruntled Zack Greinke. The revived international program brought catcher Salvador Perez from Venezuela and pitcher Kelvin Herrera from the Dominican Republic.

When time came for the Royals to win, Moore did not hide behind the “we can’t mortgage the future” rhetoric so often heard elsewhere. He traded his top prospect, outfielder Wil Myers, to the Tampa Bay Rays in a package deal that returned ace James Shields and star reliever Wade Davis.

Shields is a free agent now, after two years in Kansas City. So is right fielder Nori Aoki. The Royals are not expected to pick up a $12-million option on Butler.

Now that the Royals have gotten back to the World Series, the challenge is to win it. The window for this core, Moore figures, is two to four years.

Advertisement

And even then, he says, “We’re not going to be able to keep all of our young players. The economics of the game tell you that.”

Those days will come, all too soon. The days that came during a magical October run were worth reliving and celebrating — the fountains in town spitting Royal Blue, the sudden transformation from anonymity to celebrity for Yost, the players picking up a $15,000 bar tab to party with the fans after the division series sweep of the Angels.

When you wait 29 years, you are in no hurry for the joy ride to end. The San Francisco Giants had just won the World Series here late Wednesday night, and the visitors spilled onto the field in glee.

The chant went up from every corner of the stadium, the words that united a city and team after a long separation. The final out had been recorded, the season had ended in defeat, and yet the party was not about to end, not just yet.

Let’s Go Royals!

In an era when second place is all too often regarded as the first loser, good for the Royals for opening their stadium for a rally and season celebration on Thursday. This season was 29 years in the making. Let it last one more day, at least.

Advertisement

bill.shaikin@latimes.com

Twitter: @BillShaikin

Advertisement