You’re going to read dozens of columns and blogs about Alex Gordon’s home run in Game 1 of the 2015 World Series. Others will write about his ridiculous diving-into-the-stands catch against the Chicago White Sox the same season. Some might even mention the overlooked bomb he hit against the Minnesota Twins in 2014 as the Royals fought to break a 29-year drought.
When I think about Alex Gordon, though, another play comes to mind. Few folks will remember it. It’s the play I remember because it reminds me of my dad.
It was 2010, and the Royals, as they had for 25 years, stunk. They were 18 games under .500 en route to a 67-95 season. I had just left the newspaper business a few months earlier, quitting my career without much of a plan. I had no prospects and was struggling.
Alex Gordon was in a similar spot. Yes, he was in the big leagues, and yes, he had a ton of money. But his career in baseball was at a crossroads. He’d just spent several weeks in the minors after a horrendous start to the season. Many people assumed he was going to be a bust five years after being the second pick the MLB draft.
At the time, I lived with my father. It was the only way I could leave newspapers like I did and survive. It wasn’t ideal. He lived on the backroads of Melvern, Kansas. We couldn’t even watch the Royals through his satellite. We were miles from activity. To put it mildly, when I wasn’t working at my part-time job or trying to get back in shape, I was bored to tears, especially in the evening.
I still had the Royals, at least. Every night, I’d listen to the games on my couch in the living room while Dad played poker online for hours. He’d shake his head often. “They’ve been stranding the bases loaded for 30 damn years now,” or “My God, they’re sorry.”
Even if the games were painful to listen to much of the time, I got to spend time with my father, who I didn’t see much during my career in papers, partly because I lived out of state several times and partly because working in the sports department at a newspaper isn’t exactly a 40-hour-a-week gig.
In the time I lived with the old man, my commute to work was an hour, so I usually went to bed at about 9 p.m., a full hour before most of the games ended. I’ve forgotten every game we listened to that summer, with the exception of one.
It was July 30, and Kansas City was playing Baltimore at Kauffman Stadium. The Orioles were even worse than the Royals. Predictably, they were winning the game that night. They’d rallied to take a 5-4 lead in the eighth inning on, of course, an error while Kyle Farnsworth (How’s that for an obscure flashback?) was trying to close it out.
I’d had enough at that point. I told the old man good night, went upstairs to my bedroom, climbed into bed, turned out the lights and kept listening to the game, even though I figured the Royals would do what they typically did: lose.
Kansas City was essentially dead in the ninth as Billy Butler and Jose Guillen grounded out. Then Rick Ankiel (My God, the Royals loved the scrap heap) walked and Wilson Betemit singled.
Up came Gordon with two on and two out. On July 23, he had returned from the minors, where he’d gone after the horrible start to learn to play the outfield. When he was demoted to Omaha on May 1, Gordon was hitting .194. When he came up to bat in this game, his average was under .180. I just assumed he’d strike out.
On the second pitch from Alfredo Simon, though, Gordon gave us a hint of what he was to become, crushing a fast ball for a home run to right field. Somehow, the Royals won the game, 7-5. I remember getting out of bed, running downstairs and telling Dad about the walk-off home run.
“Gordon hit it? Good for him. It’s about damn time,” he said. “And you haven’t changed a bit, son. Thirty-four years old and so excited about a Royals game that you’re running to tell me what happened.”
Shortly after that game, Gordon told reporters he expected to dominate during the following season. A lot of folks laughed at that comment. This was, after all, a guy who’d struggled mightily for several years.
But Gordon wasn’t far off. He hit .303 with 23 homers, stole 17 bases and won the first of his seven Gold Gloves in 2011. When the Royals started winning again for the first time in decades, he was responsible for a number of big moments. The home run in 2014 against the Twins propelled Kansas City to that unforgettable Wild-Card game. The blast against Mets in 2015 shifted the World Series, and the Royals never looked back on the way to their first championship in 30 years.
Congrats on your retirement, Alex. You will be missed by many, including Dad and I.