I will never be able to repay you, Kansas City. But this story isn’t over
You have given me parenting advice I’ll never forget. You have been there for me when my mom died. You have motivated me every day to be my best version.
You have made me laugh, made me think, corrected mistakes and told me about tacos I needed to try. One of you sent something like an eight-page email full of tips after I bought a smoker. You have introduced yourself around town, sat down with me for a beer on the road and been endlessly kind and gracious and supportive as I took on this challenge that I desperately wanted and knew I wasn’t ready for.
This is the only job I ever wanted, and I always thought the best parts would be watching the teams I followed my whole life and getting to know the people who made them go.
Every bit of that has been as fulfilling as I’d hoped, but at some point I realized my favorite part of the job is the connections I’ve made with you. You’ve become part of my life, and you’ve allowed me to become part of yours. That’s a privilege I’ll cherish as long as I live.
You can see where this is going, so I’ll stop clearing my throat — that’s a piece of editing advice one of you gave me once — and tell you that this is my last week with The Star.
Starting on Monday, I will begin building new connections with you as the vice president of communications for the Royals. Helping the first team I loved connect with people I love is not a dream job, but only because I never could have imagined an opportunity like this.
This isn’t the job sports columnists are supposed to take. Major League Baseball teams aren’t supposed to want sports columnists for this job. Both those sentences are part of the appeal for me.
This is the job I never knew I wanted. Dayton Moore, the Royals’ president of baseball operations, mentioned why he thought I might be a candidate to fill the opening created by Mike Swanson’s pending retirement. I thought he was joking. I wasn’t looking around. I had a job I loved at a place I loved. People don’t often stay at newspapers forever, but the job I’m leaving is the only writing job I wanted.
I’ve also known Dayton for 15 years. We’ve had hundreds of conversations touching on hundreds of topics. I haven’t met anyone in this job I respect more. The Royals’ front office, coaching staff and clubhouse are full of good people. For more than a decade I’ve seen up close how this franchise operates, and how the people there treat each other and support each other, even in the dark. Being part of that will be an honor.
Owner John Sherman cares deeply about making Kansas City a better place, the wins are going to come on the field, and being part of exploring the possibility of building a new downtown ballpark will be a thrill.
Timing is a crazy thing, right? Sometimes it feels like nothing is working, and other times it feels like the universe is talking to us.
I know the career arc I was supposed to have. I was supposed to leave this job for a bigger outlet. I was supposed to cover a league. Or write national features. I was supposed to climb the ladder. I turned down those jobs. I didn’t want to do anything else. I wanted to be part of Kansas City.
Maybe that was a mistake professionally. I know it was the right thing personally. This place is part of me. You are part of me. I couldn’t see myself leaving that.
Here’s a story I’ve never told. My life was in a dark place when I took this job 11 years ago. I’ll spare you the details, but I felt defeated personally and overwhelmed professionally. In a span of weeks, readers of The Star went from Joe Posnanski and Jason Whitlock as their sports columnists to just me. I felt like a fraud. A few people wrote in to let me know they agreed.
Then I started working. That’s it. Just working. My bosses made me feel believed in, my coworkers made me feel supported. I needed that more than I knew.
Eventually, it became possible that I would, in fact, NOT be the worst sports columnist in the history of humanity. I have to tell you that was a relief. I learned to loosen up, and you learned to be patient. The last 11 years of this job have been a greater professional thrill than I deserved.
We’ve been through a lot together, right? The Royals have finished last and they’ve won the World Series. The Chiefs have been a dysfunctional mess and they’ve won the Super Bowl. Sporting Kansas City went from playing in a tiny baseball stadium to an MLS champion and model organization.
Kansas, Mizzou and K-State have changed coaches and won thrillers and lost ugly and had reason to beam and reason to hide. The KC Current have come from, basically, nowhere.
We walked through all of this together, and I will never be able to repay you.
It cannot be a coincidence that I’m in a much better place personally now than I was 11 years ago. I’ve made friends all over this city, reconnected with the love of my life, and we’re raising two sweet, smart and hilarious boys. You’ve been with me this whole way. I’m paid — for another few days, at least! — to express my feelings with words, and I cannot describe how grateful I am.
I could have done this job another 100 years and felt lucky the whole time. When people asked, I said I didn’t think I’d be at The Star forever, but I didn’t know what job could pull me away from the one I loved.
That job found me. This is my chance to be part of Kansas City in a different way. We’ll do this together, just like always.
This story was originally published December 14, 2021 at 5:00 AM with the headline "I will never be able to repay you, Kansas City. But this story isn’t over."