I had abs then.

1985. I/we also had $260 in savings, and permission ("uh huh, sure, like they're gonna draw our name") to put it towards the 'lottery' for Playoff/World Series tickets. Forgive me Father, my sister lived in Jackson County, I used her addy for preferential treatment.

Presto. In the mail, tickets for each/every game. $260 won't even buy one standing room World Series tick this year.

Memories fade, but I will never forget Game 6 with my brother inlaw Terry - and the absolute loudest roar (Forgive me Chiefs/Seahawks/Guinness) I've ever heard when Dane Iorg knocked in the tying and winning runs in the 9th. Strangers hugging strangers. Hands/palms, before the fist bump was even invented, hurt from all the high 5's.

Game 7. HAD to win - coming from behind in the ALCS, AND coming from behind in the World Series. Two tickets, RIGHT BEHIND home plate, the very last row in the upper deck. I wore a goofy shirt in which I'd drawn the State of Missouri (huge) on the back. Along with (probably sloppily) written words "May the West team win." No outs to go. Did.

Parade. Confetti. I can't wait until next year! Wilson's legs will carry him into his 40's.. Hell, George can DH into the new millennium, and Leo will still be winging BB's for years. Even if later he only hits .250 Frank can glove it well into the 90's. Who needs to invest in a 401K, hell, I'll be alright.

HA!

TWENTY NINE FRIGGIN YEARS! Twenty losing seasons in twenty nine friggin years.

Howser (RIP) only one more year. Then, Mike Ferraro, Billy Gardner, John Wathan, Bob Schaefer, Hal McCrae, Bob Boone, Tony Muser, John Mizerock, Tony Pena, Bob Schaefer again, Buddy Bell, Trey Hillman - and finally NedYo.

The exodus. Kevin Appier. Jermaine Dye. Johnny Damon. Raul Ibanez. David Dejesus. Carlos Beltran. Many others.

Hi, my name is (Lindsay Lohan, Lady Gaga, Mary Kate [and Ashley] Olsen, Usain Bolt, Colin Kaepernick, Tim Tebow, Rihanna, Kevin Durant, Russell Wilson, Jamaal Charles) and I wasn't alive in 1985.

2,310 losses, 5 Presidents, 783 'Ketchup wins', 3,465 Derek Jeter hits, 5,460 Late Shows with David Letterman later - we're back!

We (Lohan, Gaga, Olsens, Bolt, Kaapernick, Tebow, Rihanna, Durant, Wilson, Charles, 467,000 Kansas Citians, hundreds of thousands more throughout the land) just witnessed perhaps the greatest sport's week in the History of Kansas City.

They're fast. They glove it. They've got hair allover, many different "do's". They pitch. Oh do they pitch. They mingle with Joe Citizen. They're charitable. Sure, they can be brash. They fear no one.

Driving down the road today, one of the National Sports Talk shows was talking about the upcoming World Series between the San Francisco Giants and the Kansas City Royals. "OUCH!" (Sorry.. I pinched myself. I heard it, I REALLY HEARD IT!)

My kid, your kid, our kid's kids, we all getta see it. There are no Blue laws on Sunday anymore, in fact, they're selling T-shirts at damn near anyplace that accepts a debit card. The South Korean kid is coming back. My cousin's preschool grandson can recite the entire batting order. There's a buzz. A unification. Strangers hugging strangers.

"OUCH!"... It's real. Love, Victurd.