Royally Speaking

So ESPN made a big deal about the New York Yankees being eliminated from the playoffs last night.  And yes, from the standpoint of them being so high profile, it is a big deal.  As a lifelong Boston Red Sox fan, and a fan of all Boston sports teams, it is my sworn duty to despise everything New York.  Truthfully, however, the Yankees weren’t my focus in recent days.  The Sox are securely in the playoffs, and if all goes well they will finish with the best record in the American League. Of course, Oakland is nipping at their heels, so  to ensure that record the BoSox basically have to win 2 out of 3 against the Yanks to accomplish this feat.  But even that isn’t foremost in my mind, the Wild Card race is.  For as happy as I am that Tito Francona has the Indians close to the playoffs, and how much I fear those Tampa Bay Rays and the mad scientist Joe Maddon, I am melancholy for the other team most recently booted from contention, the Kansas City Royals.

The Royals are a franchise I have had an eye on since I became aware of baseball in the late 70’s.  Our beloved Red Sox had started a decline that began with Bucky “Bleepin’” Dent’s home run off of embedded Yankee Mike “Taco” Torrez in the one game playoff October 2, 1978 that won those Yankees the AL East.  Anyone who has read this far needs no further explanation, but suffice it to say there were some dark times for Sox fans in the next several years.  However, waiting for those Yankees in the American League Championship Series were the Kansas City Royals, who were in the midst of quite a run as bridesmaids in the AL, having lost to the Yankees the previous 2 season in the ALCS.  I was not aware of this run at the time, as I was only 7, but that team sparked my interest.  George Brett, Frank White, Willie Wilson and others “played the game right” (obviously a lot of these opinions are being remembered from my youth through an adult lens), and they had a heck of a pitching staff to boot.  But once again, the Royals were no match for the Yanks, and once again stepped aside while the Yankees went on to face the Dodgers in the seconds consecutive NY/LA World Series.

After one season of finishing in second place, the Royals went back to the ALCS in 1980 to once again face the Yankees. In a stunning reversal of fortune, the Royals swept them 3-0 (the ALCS used to be best of 5) behind the bats of (series MVP) Frank White and George Brett, and excellent pitching, including their closer Dan Quisenberry, who may have been Mariano if it hadn’t been for injuries several  years later.  His submarine delivery baffled hitters as he saved Game 2 for Dennis Leonard and won Game 3 by entering in the SIXTH inning and allowing 2 runs to give the Yankees a 2-1 lead, only to complete the game and see his team win with a 7^th inning 3 run rally. Unfortunately for the Royals, another team of destiny, the Philadelphia Phillies, was waiting for them and they lost four games to two.  As a subplot to the ALCS, the New York Yankees fired their manager Dick Howser.  This meant nothing at the time, but it soon would.

The Royals would return to the World Series in 1985 to face their intrastate rivals the St. Louis Cardinals.  Led by Dick Howser, who was brought in after the 1981 season, the same basic core of position players from previous season, and dynamic young pitcher Bret Saberhagen, the Royals won the World Championship 4 games to 3.  Unfortunately, this series will always be remembered for Don Denkinger’s Game 6 call at first base where Royal Jorge Orta was ruled safe when replays showed he was clearly out.  Regardless, the Royals were champions after years of heartbreak.  Unfortunately, this would be the only time the club would scale that high.  Injuries (Quiz, Saberhagen, etc), age (Brett, White and Wilson) and just general attrition would take effect and the Royals would never be the same.  Dick Howser tragically passed away in June of 1987, and while he was not technically the manger, the club and he were still very close.  There were glimpses of hope since-they finished 2^nd in their division in 1987 and 1989, and there were a couple over .500 years in the early 90’s.  But basically, the last two decades of KC baseball have been depressing.

The 2013 season was interesting, even though many pundits would not have predicted that at the beginning of the season.  In the offseason, the Royals traded highly-regarded prospect Wil Myers to the Tampa Bay Rays for one of their top pitchers James Shields.  The Rays determined they could trade Shields because they had terrific pitchers in David Price, Matt Moore and Alex Cobb, among others.  This, coupled with the fact that Shields’ contract was in its final year, made him an expendable piece.  From the Royals standpoint, they looked at their team and decided this may be the year to go for it, even though they may have been the only ones to think that way.   Well, Wil Myers was called up in June for the Rays, and proceeded to become a key component in their lineup as they continue to march into yet another postseason.  So through that lens, one may say the trade was a mistake, but something happened along the way-the Royals were pretty competitive, and battled right to this last week of the season before finally being eliminated from contention in the last few days.  James Sheilds had a pretty solid year, going 12-9 with a 3.21 ERA as of this writing, and generally offering leadership to a young team.  The Royals have a solid foundation with Eric Hosmer, Alex Gordon & Salvador Perez having strong years, and, if Shields comes back, a solid veteran rotation along with Ervin Santana and Jeremy Guthrie.

Here’s hoping this time next year, the Royals are the new Pirates.  Now the Pirates, that’s a story to tell…

Jealousy

Have you ever looked upon a group of children playing, without a care in the world, and thought to yourself, “Look at those kids enjoying themselves, I wish I could be just like them again  I am so jealous.”?  Well, recently I had a similar experience, but not in watching young people living their lives with joy, but rather when I was dealing with the complete opposite end of the spectrum.  If you read my previous entry, you know my mother was battling cancer.  Last Saturday morning, cancer won, and my mother passed.  The thoughts that I am coping with, however, aren’t the feelings of sorrow and loss of my mom.  Don’t get me wrong, they are there, and will always be, but I can reconcile those feelings.  No, what troubles me is my jealousy, my jealousy towards everyone who finds comfort in their belief in god.

As I stood up front greeting people at the wake, without fail the majority of those who didn’t really know me well would express their condolences followed by some form of “She’s with god now” or “She’s in a better place”.   I know those people were sincere and that they believe everything they are saying, but I don’t believe in god.  Most of the people that truly know me know that about me.  However, I certainly didn’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable, so I did what any decent person would do and thank them for their kind words.  I even had a priest come in and do a brief memorial service, because that’s what my mother would have wanted.  It was a very nice service, in lieu of a funeral, and I was glad we did it.

It wasn’t until after everything was over that I realized how I felt about the people I mentioned.  Those people who wept when I didn't.  The folks that prayed for my mother, while all I did was try to be there for her as much as I could.  The priest who spoke so eloquently about this woman he had never met, this woman who in his words “went home”, while I sat there and listened, all the while knowing that her life ended Saturday September 14th at 2:30 AM, and there was no tomorrow for her.  She will only live on in memories.  Yet, while everyone comforted  themselves with their faith (and I am sure that they are wrong) since the evening of the service I can’t shake this feeling.  This feeling of jealousy towards the faithful.

I have been an Atheist for several years now.  The need to believe in a god escapes me.  However, I recognize that I am in a minority, and I respect all people’s viewpoints probably more than they respect mine.  I see it as something that keeps them warm at night, thinking they are being protected by an entity that, if it were real, allows for all the ill in the world to continue at the same time it takes care of them.  I just will never again be able to wrap my head around believing in something I cannot quantify.  This rationalization does not help me shake the feeling I have now.  Why can’t it be so easy for me to say things like “She’s gone home now”?  For once I wish I was like the people, who at any other time in recent memory I scoff at, that can find comfort thinking she is being taken care of by their god.  I am merely left knowing she is gone, and, dammit, I’m jealous.  I want to be like one of those kids, even for a little while.  But I can't.

What Comic Books Mean To Me

The other day I started thinking about the fact that I really don’t read comics anymore, and it saddened me.  I wasn't having these feelings because I miss it, although sometimes I do.  I wasn't melancholy because the characters no longer are part of my life, because they still are through other media like TV, movies, video games & the internet.  It wasn't even the fact that I miss the feeling of the Wednesday comic book run and the communal way we would gather to discuss the events in those books.  No, those are not the reasons form my lament.  The reason I started feeling down is because the person who got me into comic books is leaving me.  It is my mother, surprisingly enough, and she is dying of cancer.

My earliest comic book specific memory is picking up The Brave and the Bold #139, starring Batman and Hawkman in a story titled “Requiem for a Top Cop" .  I bought this comic from a store in my hometown of West Springfield, Massachusetts for 35 cents back in late 1977, when I was just 7 years old.  I can’t put my finger on why this book was my first comic book.  If I were to venture a guess, probably timing was 75% of it, because I had just become old enough to appreciate the medium, and the rest because of Batman.  (As an adult, I have realized that Jim Aparo’s incredible art was most likely what drove me to it; he’s my favorite artist in the medium ever). The old Adam West Batman was on every afternoon growing up, and even at that early age I can remember being entertained by it, and I watched it because my Mom watched it. 

My mother was an avid DC Comics fan from way back in the 60’s.  One of her greatest regrets was letting our neighbors’ son borrow several comic books.  Included in those books was her copy of Justice League of America #1 from 1960.  She was so angry about never getting those books back, as she always had taken great care of her collection, and felt, rightly so, that the book was worth serious money.  We never completely found out what happened to the comics, but suffice it to say that never happened again. 

When I became old enough to get into her hobby, it was like she was a kid again.  I vividly remember she and I sitting at our dining room table, divvying up the list of titles on the subscription form as hers and mine.  Although Batman was the hero that first caught my eye, Flash and Green Lantern were my favorite characters and those were MY COMICS, Mom going more towards Superman, Wonder Woman & JLA.  So every week we would get the mail, and those comics would come in the brown paper sleeve, which we would slide off each one to see whose was whose.  Of course, just because she or I “owned” one comic or another, we always read each other’s and would talk about the stories.  This went on for about 5-6 years, until DC had the nerve to raise the price to a whopping 60 cents a book!  At the volume we were reading, which was practically every title DC published, something had to give.  So for that reason, and the fact that I had started to be a teenager who wanted to be too cool for the hobby, we stopped buying comic books.

As I got older, and more aware that life wasn't all about being cool, I found myself with the itch again.  This probably had a lot to do with my old friend Batman, as it was right around the time Tim Burton’s movie was released.  Even though the movie was the catalyst, I didn't buy an actual comic book again until the release of Green Lantern #1  in 1990.  Reading this book brought everything back, and the first person I shared it with was, of course, Mom.  It felt so good having those conversations again, as I dove back into the hobby feet first, this time including Marvel Comics into my reading as well.  It felt so good to have these characters back in my life, and my mother’s life as well.  I was hooked again, bouncing from comic shop to comic shop, as they would either close or someone would have a better discount for subscribers, but always coming home on a Friday (later Wednesday) with a stack I would blow through, and then share with Mom. 

Eventually the stories became a little too adult for Mom to be interested in, so she stopped reading the books.  Occasionally she would ask what was going on with this character or that, or a major event would happen that would get mainstream attention and she’d want to know my take.  Luckily, while the comic books themselves ceased to be a focal point of our conversations, they were replaced by the films that permeate the theaters these days.  Every time a new movie was released, I would usually go as early as I possibly could, Mom would coerce Dad to go to a matinee, and eventually we would discuss our views on the movie.  Thinking back now, my Mom would just ask me my opinion, let me rant (or praise, but mostly rant) on and on, smile and listen.  I know Mom was one of those people just happy to watch the films, and she just gave me the floor to voice my opinion. I sometimes wish I could be more like that.  Shouldn't everyone wish they could be more like the one person in their life that defines unconditional love? 

Comic books and the characters have been a huge part of my life for over 30 years.  I have been lucky enough to make some good friends and associates through the hobby I once had a great passion for.  I have read some epic stories, and some light-hearted ones, seen some great films, and some real duds (and one with George Clooney that doesn’t really exist).  All those books, all those movies and especially the relationships are all because of one person.  Thanks Mom!  I’ll always love you.