Why it’s too bad KC Royals president Dayton Moore isn’t the commissioner of baseball
Dayton Moore left his assistant coaching job at George Mason University to become an area scouting supervisor with the Atlanta Braves in 1994. So he didn’t have firsthand knowledge of the issues of the day, as he put it Wednesday, that led to Major League Baseball sabotaging itself months later with a strike that alienated legions of fans.
Still, he vividly remembers the fallout — including all the people saying they would never come back to the game.
Then as now, amid the strife of a lockout that already has contaminated the start of the regular season and left his stomach in knots, the president of the Royals offered this:
“Don’t ever let any situation, any circumstance, any event or any person drive a wedge between you and what you love to do,” he said during a Zoom call with local media the day after MLB announced the first two regular-season series had been canceled. “Things aren’t perfect. There’s ups and downs in life. There’s ups and downs in baseball. There’s good times and bad times. We’re not the first professional (sports league) to go through times like this, and we won’t be the last.”
He later added: “I’m confident and hopeful and optimistic that we’ll move on in a positive way in the very near future. That’s how we have to think; that’s what we have to believe. It’s a much more beautiful day when we expect good things to happen. And I’m going to continue to pursue life expecting good things to happen.”
Anyone who knows Moore knows him to ooze sincerity and integrity and to mean what he says and say what he means.
Honestly, if he were commissioner of baseball I believe this might well have been resolved before it began. Not simply because of his words on this day but for his diplomatic skills, sheer love of the game and appreciation for all constituents.
Given the chaotic climate, his willingness to speak on Wednesday about “the heart of baseball” and take questions and say “I’m sorry we are where we are” to fans was particularly admirable.
Moreover, there was something soothing to be found in the fundamental point that this, too, shall pass.
But what can’t be known, or at least remains to be seen, is the considerable matter of just how long until it does pass … and to what degree the heart of baseball becomes more broken and damaged in the meantime.
Because anyone who follows baseball, cares about the game or played the game, anyone who has children playing baseball or softball or works in related businesses, anyone who planned spring training trips that are now at best in limbo, is somewhere between disillusioned and angry right now.
And maybe that’s preferable to what lurks even more alarmingly: the sure-to-be accumulating apathy of the fans whose passion make the game possible.
With each passing day of what many just view as an unrelatable, unpalatable clash between billionaires and millionaires, they are being windmilled around to further explore other ways to spend their money and time and energy.
And how much more oafish and tone-deaf does all this look against the never-ending news crawl backdrops of Russia’s alarming siege of Ukraine, the insanity in U.S. politics and a lingering pandemic that the baseball season should be able to at least momentarily divert us from?
Instead, we’re already left with what commissioner Rob Manfred a few weeks ago called the “disastrous outcome” of scuttling regular-season games. And who was to say as of Wednesday afternoon when this nonsense will end?
Because Moore’s delight in the game and devotion to fans is so pure, he can look past this foul and blurry horizon in ways that not all of us can and see something that’s not entirely clear to others.
Because he’s a man of enormous faith, he tends to speak in such terms as he considers the moment.
At times like this, he said, “It’s important to remember why we fell in love with the game, who introduced us to the game of baseball. Because ultimately, when you go through periods of times like this, that’s what’s ultimately motivating you, keeping you strong, keeping you pursuing the game. And that’s really my message to our organization, to our fans.”
Later, he said, “You always have to remind yourself why you fell in love with the game.”
As with faith, though, some may embrace that notion without tangible evidence. Others may say they need to see it to believe it and, anyway, why do I need to remind myself of that?
Or perhaps that it’s baseball that needs to remind us why we love it.
To be clear, Moore in himself is one of the reasons we can and we do. I’ve seldom if ever met anyone more honorable and admirable, and I don’t mean just in the realm of sports.
I’ve been blessed to be in his company to see him console Yordano Ventura’s family in the Dominican Republic and resonate with prisoners at Ellsworth Correctional Facility among a number of other profoundly meaningful experiences and conversations with him about topics from the exhilarating to the excruciating.
So I can say with all conviction that you should believe him that this is a source of anguish to the Royals, including owner John Sherman, and not simply because of business lost but because of Sherman’s sincere notion of his role in the community.
Moreover, players past, present and future will rave about Moore the rest of their lives because of how he’s treated them in bad and good times that included the epic World Series seasons runs in 2014 and 2015.
For all of that, though, Moore understands baseball is for the fans and for the youth watching now and that it’s imperative to constantly work to capture the respect and trust of the fan base.
So he makes sure to listen when he runs into fans, whether on a plane or in an airport or around Surprise. He wants to show compassion and hear their frustration. And one thing he’s picked up on in those moments is simple but quite instructive.
“Fans want to see baseball,” Moore said. “I don’t think they’re really concerned about owners, players (and) who’s (right or wrong). They just want to see baseball.”
If only those in position to do something about that understood it in such a way that compelled them. But the spirit isn’t right, and the trust isn’t there. So whenever this is resolved, baseball will face the immediate challenge of how to revive the spirit and regain the trust of fans.
Whether you mostly blame the owners (like me) who imposed the lockout, or the MLB Players Association or both is ultimately less relevant than the mutual ill will that is radiating outward to everyone else affected.
As much as anything else, nearly 30 years since the last stoppage to which baseball recklessly now pays no heed, that’s the emerging issue now at a time when rival entertainment options have increased geometrically and long-term fans have the game essentially are aging out.
All of which makes the love of the game something that simply no longer can be taken for granted because of forces, alas, beyond Moore’s abiding goodwill.