Kansas City, Kansas City Here I Come… I wish.

Typically, I’m all about that bass, ’bout that bass, no treble.

What I mean is:
Typically I’m all about the humor when it comes to my blog posts. But right now I’m going to get a little sentimental.
And serious.
And possibly teary eyed.
[But you won’t know that part unless I tell you. Or, unless you have my house bugged with cameras and you’ve been watching my every move. Which is creepy. And also a little bit awesome because, congratulations, you have witnessed someone (me) with the most amazing dance moves to 90’s hip hop performed while cleaning and cooking.]

Back to being serious, though.

Right now, I really, really, really wish I was back in Kansas City.

As the Kansas City Royals have played their hearts out in this year’s post-season, including an amazing appearance in the World-Freakin-Series, the entire city has filled with excitement. And energy. And pride.

I’ve always been proud of my city. I still am. And I’ve always been a Royals fan. And always will. I was “that girl” who defended them when people would scoff and say “Heh, the Royals?”

Yes, the Royals. The games are fun. Win or lose. They are fun. And the stadium is beautiful. And don’t even get me started on the hot dogs. (Best hot dogs you will ever eat in your life. I promise.)

So, here I am …. in eastern Pennsylvania. [Sigh]
Watching from afar. [Double Sigh]
Wishing I could jump in the car and drive 18 hours back to my hometown just to witness the magic that is happening. I’m not asking for much. I’m not even wishing for tickets to the final game. I would be completely content to sit in a camp chair and watch the game splashed across my friend’s garage door from the projector they somehow managed to set up outside. Or, to watch the game at The Peanut while sitting on one of the most comfortable, albeit beat-up, bar stools in the city while noshing on the best hot wings in the world. (Seriously, the best.)

I want to see the sea of blue that has apparently washed over the city. People are wearing their favorite Kansas City shirts, new and old. (Some shirts date back to 1985 when the team won their last World Series – high five to the mothers who packed and hoarded things away that year!) I want to see the backyard fireworks explode throughout the surrounding neighborhoods. I want to see the blue water spraying from the fountains across the city. I want to see the flags waving from front porches and car windows. I want to see the banners hanging from every street post throughout the Plaza. I want to see Union Station and the other magnificent buildings washed in blue lights at nighttime.

According to my Seeester, people are smiling. Non-stop. They wake up happy because something really magical is happening in the city. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that?!?!?

[A tear may have just fallen onto my keyboard. Just sayin’.]

But here I am, in eastern PA … soaking up as much of the excitement as possible via Facebook and Twitter and online news reports. Appreciating the videos and photos that friends have shared on their social media pages. Loving the text messages that friends have sent me with images of Boulevard Beer and Royals t-shirts and their happy, smiling faces.

Okay. So enough sentimental, sighing, wishing, blah blah blah. Its a few hours until game time. The final game of this year’s World Series. And I have things I need to do. Like, I need to put on my favorite blue shirt and KC hat and get outside so I can represent the best city in the world before the first pitch is thrown.

On that note — GO ROYALS! Take the Crown! I’ll be cheering for you from many miles away. Dressed in blue. With banners of my own. And maybe some blue food coloring in the toilet and blue lights on the front porch. And singing (wishing) Kansas City, Kansas City Here I Come.


6 thoughts on “Kansas City, Kansas City Here I Come… I wish.

  1. Kansas City misses you and Brad Pitt!
    And Charlie would agree with you, The K, has THE BEST hot dogs EVER!!! I think he ate 3 of them once. (IKEA is in a close second place for that title.)

    • Me and Charlie are like two peas in a pod. I could eat three hotdogs at the K and IKEA is definitely a close second. Which is probably why I go to IKEA so much. Its *almost* like a Royals hotdog. 🙂


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