Recently I read a story written by a man who suffered a catastrophic fall in his home that left him paralyzed from the shoulders down. Fortunately, his wife was at home, heard the fall, and rushed to his aid, moving him so his airway was open. Had she not been home, he would have asphyxiated. He wrote that once he realized he was paralyzed and that his life was going to change, he faced three choices. Those choices were death, depression, or perseverance. Since he didn’t want to die or be depressed,
the only choice was to persevere. Since the injury, he reports that many of his days, and his life, have gotten markedly better since he no longer has any expectations. He is grateful for every moment and every day.
I thought it was profound in describing how many of us go through life always in a state of disappointment due to our expectations. Don’t all of us have expectations for our careers? Our children? Our relationships? Our expectations for the music we listen to and what we watch on television? How often do we let those expectations color our outlook on life?
Elton John was the man in early 1970s music. His Goodbye Yellow Brick Road album, released in 1973, was a smash and still sounds great today. He then released the mostly forgettable Caribou in 1974 and desperately needed a hit to stay relevant.
His PR machine went into overdrive promoting his next album, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, which was scheduled to go on sale May 19, 1975. The expectations for Cowboy were huge. On May 19, I marched into the House of Sight and Sound in Salina, as did dozens of others, to buy our copies. The House of Sight and Sound was part record store, part head shop, and part cultural meeting space for Midwest Kansas. If you lived in that part of the world during those years, you know what I’m talking about.
I took the album home, full of expectations, and after a listen or two realized the album was a bit of a dud. Cowboy spawned one hit, the wonderful “Someone Saved My Life Tonight,” but otherwise it was forgettable. Elton couldn’t meet the expectations and fell out of relevance until he started making Disney hits.
How is this related to sports and specifically the Royals?
How often do we allow our expectations of the Royals to affect our enjoyment of baseball? I know I’ve been guilty of it many times. Think about the 2025 season. Would you consider last season to be a joyful experience or a disappointment? Did you enjoy the season as it progressed, or were you tormented by close losses and missed opportunities? I was in the last camp, rehashing close losses, blaming Matt Quatraro for mismanaging the bullpen or the outfield’s lack of firepower at the plate. I went into the season with the full belief that the Royals were going to make the playoffs, and that anything short of that would be a disappointment. And it was.
Those expectations didn’t allow me much space to enjoy the season.
Yes, the outfield play was horrid. Yes, the pitching staff endured several season-altering injuries. Yes, Quatraro made some questionable decisions that may or may not have cost the Royals some games. You know what, that’s an ordinary baseball season for most teams not named the Dodgers.
Having those high expectations blinded me to the continued excellence of Bobby Witt Jr.
It blinded me to enjoying the joyous final years of the Salvador Perez experience, and it never allowed me to appreciate what Noah Cameron was doing. That’s on me and not the Royals.
Think back on the seasons you enjoyed the most. I can immediately think of two that I truly enjoyed. The first was 1973. The Royals were still a young team, only in their fifth season, and not much was expected of them. They had a new manager in Jack McKeon and a sparkling new stadium. They also played in the same division as the powerful Oakland A’s, so there wasn’t much expectation of them dethroning the A’s and making the playoffs.
The Royals had been putting together a solid team. John Mayberry and Amos Otis were full-blown stars. Freddie Patek and Cookie Rojas formed arguably the best double-play combination in baseball. Lou Piniella, Paul Schaal, and Ed Kirkpatrick were steady contributors. Late in the season, new acquisition Hal McRae started to hit. The pitching staff was solid with guys like Paul Splittorff, Dick Drago, and Al Fitzmorris. Add in a couple of heralded rookies named Steve Busby and Doug Bird, and suddenly the Royals were winning regularly.
In mid-August, the team called up some kid named Brett.
Big crowds came out to see the surging team and the new stadium. They stayed near the top of the division all summer. On August 15, they beat Cleveland 5–1 to move to 70–51 and take a one-game lead in the West Division. Could it happen? Could the young Royals win the division?
It was an exciting time to be a Royals fan. Unfortunately, the young team wasn’t quite ready. They lost 13 of their next 19 games to fall 5½ games back. They won 12 of their last 22 games, but it wasn’t enough to catch Oakland. They finished at 88–74, good for second in the West. Today, that record would probably get them into the Wild Card game. Back then, they stayed home and prepped for the 1974 season.
I went into the 1973 season with low expectations, and the Royals exceeded anything I thought possible. It was a fun summer.
The last time I felt that kind of joy would have been the 2003 season. Who can forget that summer? The Royals were terrible in 2002, finishing with a 62–100 record. They changed their Tonys, getting rid of Tony Muser and hiring Tony Peña. Going into 2003, the expectations were really, really low.
Then something magical happened.
Peña sprinkled some baseball fairy dust on this ragtag group and they started winning. Sure, they had a few guys. Mike Sweeney was a hitting machine. Joe Randa and Raúl Ibañez were solid players. They got steady contributions from guys like Aaron Guiel and Ángel Berroa. They opened the season on a 16–3 heater, which put them 5.5 games up in the division. They lost the division lead in mid-May but hung around, surprising everyone. They played well in June and July, and on August 19 sat at 65–59 with a one-game division lead.
The difference maker was Carlos Beltrán. Beltrán had a phenomenal season, hitting .307, scoring 102 runs while driving in 100. He stole 41 bases while playing Gold Glove defense in center.
The season was a bit of a miracle, really.
Look at that pitching staff. Darrell May, Chris George, Runelvys Hernández, Kyle Snyder, and José Lima. Ah yes, Lima Time! Who can forget Lima Time! Who can forget Mrs. Lima. Hubba hubba. Royals GM Allard Baird found Lima toiling with the Newark Bears of the Independent League. Baird was always looking for players in the clearance aisle. Lima made his first start on June 15, and the Royals won the first eight games he started. Lima was credited with seven wins in that run. That’s the kind of summer 2003 was.
The Royals cycled through 29 pitchers that summer in a desperate attempt to win a few more games. The whole summer was bananas and crazy and wonderful and totally unexpected. Even though they didn’t win the division, it was still one of the more enjoyable summers in recent memory, cheering for this crazy underdog team.
My favorite game that summer came on September 4. It was a Thursday afternoon game, a makeup date against Arizona. The Royals came in at 71–67, just one game back. Over 20,000 fans came out that afternoon. Think about that for a moment. A 3:00 start on a Thursday in September drew over 20,000 to the stadium.
The Royals went into the bottom of the 9th trailing 5–4. Arizona brought out their closer, Matt Mantei, who could throw some heat. Beltrán drew a one-out walk. Then he stole second. Ibañez drew a walk. The crowd started making some noise. Then the Royals got frisky. Beltrán and Ibañez pulled off a double steal. The crowd was going nuts.
Ken Harvey then lofted a foul ball behind first base.
Surely that’s not deep enough for Beltrán to tag and score, is it?
It was.
In one of the more exciting and gutsy plays I’ve ever seen, Carlos did tag, and his headfirst slide beat the throw from Danny Bautista. It was at that moment that I thought this kid Beltrán could be a Hall of Fame player.
The Royals eventually lost that game, 6–5. They stirred in the 10th with Aaron Guiel and Joe Randa getting on base before Mantei got Sweeney on a popup.
For all intents and purposes, that was the end of the season.
They played .500 ball over their last 24 games to end the season at 83–79, seven games back of the Twins.
Even though they fell short, no expectations equaled a fun summer of baseball.
Compare that to 2004. The Royals had raised the bar and people expected them to improve upon the 2003 miracle. They didn’t. In fact, 2004 was a massive disappointment to many.
2004 got off to a wonderful start. 41,575 came out on Opening Day to see if 2003 was a fluke or not. The Royals went into the bottom of the 9th trailing the White Sox 7–3.
Randa and Harvey drew walks to lead off the inning.
Benny Santiago doubled to left, scoring Randa.
That brought Mendy López to the plate. López somehow got around on a Dámaso Marte fastball and drove the ball over the center-field wall for a game-tying three-run jack. The crowd was deafening.
López had a seven-year major league career. He hit a total of six career home runs. This was the last of those six. If you were a Royals fan at the time, you remember this game.
Ángel Berroa stroked a single, which brought Beltrán to the plate. Carlos delivered, crushing a Marte pitch into the left-field stands to give the Royals an improbable 9–7 win.
We didn’t know it then, but this was the peak of the Tony Peña era.
The Royals lost 21 of their next 28 games, and any magic left over from 2003 and from Opening Day was long gone. In June, management threw in the towel and traded Beltrán. The Royals collapsed to a 58–104 record. Peña somehow made it through the season, but he couldn’t survive an 8–25 start to the 2005 season. It ushered in a sad era of Royals baseball. If there was a poster for that era, it would have a picture of Tony Peña, in full uniform, standing in the shower. No expectations in 2003. High expectations in 2004.
What’s the point? I’ve made a commitment to not having any expectations for the 2026 season. Let’s see how this works. I’m committed to enjoying Bobby Jr., Cole, and Salvy for what they are. I’m going to enjoy watching Jac and Carter and hope they develop into formidable major leaguers, but I’m giving up the expectation of the Royals making the playoffs. If the Royals do make the playoffs, and I hope they do, I’ll enjoy that to the fullest.
I’m going to spend the summer just enjoying baseball for the wonderful sport that it is and marveling at the players’ ability to hit a 95-mph slider and the pitcher’s ability to throw one. My wife and I will make trips to several major league parks we’ve yet to see. We’ll sit in the sun, enjoy some nachos or a ballpark dog and a beer, and enjoy the game we love so much.
