Zack Conroy: My life as a Royals fan

I have been rooting for the Royals since I was a 9-year-old kid in Kansas City. Although I only lived in the city for two years, my dad would take my little brother and me to the ballpark every couple of weeks during the summer.

Fireworks on the Fourth of July, George Brett’s last season, running the bases with my Little League team. On the muggy summer nights that we couldn’t go, I would listen to games on my yellow boom box — late into the night and well past my bedtime.

When I moved back east, everyone was a fan of the Yankees or Red Sox. But I stayed strong. The bonds forged in childhood last a lifetime.

In 1994, we won 10 straight games before the strike. Since then, we’ve never made it back to the top. I watched young players come and go, sizzling starts fizzle out (Lima Time!), and Zack Greinke’s Cy Young season. But KC hat in hand, the playoffs eluded us.

I have not had a blessed life as a sports fan. I have never witnessed a team that I cared about play a game that mattered and win. When I watched family and friends go crazy over the Yankees or the Patriots, I never really understood what they were feeling.

Until last Tuesday night.

I landed in LA and tuned in to the first half of the KC-A’s game on the radio. When I realized that my girlfriend and I don’t have TBS, I promptly dropped her off and headed to a bar that I knew would carry the game. I ended up in West Hollywood, surrounded by a few A’s fans and casual diners.

When I arrived, the sound wasn’t on! They had no idea what was in store.

Top of the sixth. Royals up, 3-2. I watched (in pain) as the A’s roared back, packing on the runs. I knew this story all too well, and I found solace in the Royals World Series bet that I didn’t make and the would-have-been Royals playoff tickets that I could still sell. There’s always next year.

I realized I needed to get away from the A’s fans, so I headed outside. Then, like the beginning of the rain in Forrest Gump, the Royals started to score in the bottom of the eighth inning. Escobar. Then Cain! We were still down by one run. But it was a game.

Bottom of the ninth. A’s up, 7-6. Eric Hosmer hit a long fly ball. A triple off the wall! Christian Colon proceeded to drive him in on a crazy grounder to tie the game at 7-7. At that moment, after 20 years of ups and downs, I knew what it felt like to be a true sports fan. Not a fantasy fan. Not a gambler. But a real-life, heart-pounding, blood, sweat and tears fan.

The rest of the night was a blur. During extra innings, I was clapping so hard that my hands hurt. At some point, the bar manager offered me a shot. Then it happened. In the 12th inning, the game was tied again, and Sal Perez stepped up to the plate. I knew it was over before he hit the ball. Sal Perez, who up to this point had done little on the night, is the type of player that wins these games.

I jumped. I screamed. Royals win! Royals win!

It was decades in the making, but for one night in late September, I was transformed back into a nine-year-old kid in Kansas City, glove in hand, watching my heroes in the ballpark. I’m quite sure that nine-year-old Zack would be proud that I stuck it out this long.

This story was originally published October 5, 2014 at 10:00 AM with the headline "Zack Conroy: My life as a Royals fan."