This year began entrusted with a mission for our town —
A trio of three little words; you know ’em: “Take the crown.”
So check your future, Marty, ’cause your movie’s just been foiled:
The champs of Twenty-Fifteen are the Kansas City Royals!
Never miss a local story.
Our memories are plentiful, from summer’s start to finish
And passing of the coming years will surely not diminish
The way that we were unified, ’cause winning leaves its stamp
(And just in case you missed it, did we mention we’re the champ?)
Our ballpark is a joyful place, which winning tends to breed;
“It feels just like the Seventies!” (And that’s high praise, indeed.)
The “go-to” place on summer eves, with sellout crowds expected;
And when it comes to rituals, there’s little that’s neglected --
As KayCee hangs the “W,” which signifies the win,
And Salvy dunks the hero who has helped our cause again.
Our rising star brings TV fame; the nation gets to know us;
And even scary chickenpox, it seems, could barely slow us.
The All-Star Game was royalty — an early glimpse of heaven —
’Cause KC players named to squad were seven — count ’em, seven!
And finally, our hour came amid October glory;
Our giddiness was everywhere, but heck, you know the story…
There was a scare (the Houston game) but really, never mind;
We seemed to play our very best when coming from behind.
The Astros and the Blue Jays and the Mets? Each team recoils:
Is any lead a certainty against these pesky Royals?
And oh! The Royals’ clapping chant — you couldn’t help but hear it;
The Series was a showcase for our Kansas City spirit:
With Esky’s in-the-parker, with a 14-inning yield,
And Hosmer’s crazy dash from third that stunned the Citi Field.
The nation watched in wonder at our gumption and our speed;
It took just five to beat the Mets; we took the crown, indeed.
To celebrate: a grand parade, our victory to toot;
You’d think that half the planet came (the sky wore blue, to boot.)
A Series win is worthy — let our glasses rise in toast —
But there are many types of champs of which our town can boast.
You need not look too far, in fact, to find where champs are steeled;
For not all those we celebrate find glory on the field.
Why, take the local spelling whiz — you hardly could have missed her;
She’s standing tall as spelling champ — in fact, just like her sister.
A local champ in children’s hearts brings changes at the zoo:
To our polar bear Nikita we now say a fond adieu.
(He’s leaving town.) But welcome to Tamani, who’s a bull
(That’s elephant, not bovine) and his future won’t be dull.
He has six lady elephants to choose from, don’t forget it;
He’ll someday serve in Cupid’s cause (nice work, if you can get it.)
We’ve waited years for streetcars here; at last, we’ve had a sighting:
The streetcar tested out the route, with local fans delighting.
Yes, through the years, delays were rife — we hardly could abide ’em;
But streetcars are just weeks away; we’ll hop aboard and ride ’em.
A wacky year for weather ’twas; umbrellas were required
For spring and early summer…then the rain gear was retired.
A balmy autumn followed — it’s a blessing, we’re presuming;
And even when December came, we still had roses blooming.
Those streaky Chiefs, they’re on a roll —— for good or otherwise;
We lost five straight, then eight straight wins — a red-and-gold surprise
Their fortune comes in bunches, so we’ll hope for playoff fun;
Our second team (perhaps) this year to mount a title run!
We locals love our KCI, where we hardly have to walk;
But as the year progressed we heard a lot of airport talk.
A switch from three to one? To some, the proper way to go;
But every time the issue’s raised, you hear the passions flow.
No matter how this all turns out, the topic will be thriving;
A storm of controversy is now posted as “ARRIVING.”
A little bug that glistens green — the pest that we’ve been fearing…
The sad result: Our ash trees by the scores are disappearing.
So add to all the pine trees lost, these ash trees that have died;
These aren’t good times to be a tree (in case you had applied).
A mystery — call Sherlock Holmes! A painting once displayed —
Yet when the Benton “vanished” such a ruckus then was made!
But happily, it all worked out — a mystery no more;
It found a “foster home” of sorts, inside the Nelson’s door.
In fact, the Nelson featured him, quite worthy of such mention;
Consider Twenty-Fifteen as the year of Mr. Benton.
So all in all, a landmark year with memories to spare;
And let us hope our future years will happily compare.
Good heavens! Twenty-fifteen was a year to top the charts
Because it’s always summer (if we think so) in our hearts.
Let’s keep our aspirations high — may blessings come in spates —
And look ahead: the coming year — a “Sweet Sixteen” awaits.
So listen not to doubters nor to pessimistic scamps;
’Cause here in Kansas City it’s our people who are champs!
In a holiday tradition on the editorial page, this retrospective romp in verse was cooked up by The Star’s resident versifier, Don Munday, and heartily endorsed by the editorial board.