We are sick and tired of being sick and tired.

We are fed up with being the bottom of the barrel.

We’re tired of  David Glass walking away from this town.

We’re tired of the race being over one month into the season and being too “small market” to sign free agents.

We’re done with it being 27 years since our last playoff game.  Thirty-nine years since our last All-Star Game.

We are done with having a “mandated by rule” representative to the All-Star Game.

A change is coming.

That change started Monday night.

Some will call it “petty” or “tart” or “classless.”

You haven’t been here. You haven’t seen what we’ve seen. You haven’t seen the flood of injuries in this town that led us to cringe whenever we hear “Tommy John.” You haven’t felt the sinking feeling minutes after we sat down at Opening Day and we’re already down by six runs. You haven’t watched every game on television and been reminded that this team is fractured; that this team isn’t whole; that this team needs continuity; that this whole weekend was minus Frank White.

As the boos grew louder and louder and louder last night for Robinson Cano, you could feel the starvation in each utterance. BOOOOOOOO.  BOOOOOOOOOO.  This wasn’t some high-pitched chortle. This was from the soul. We were booing from our soul to his soul. Because his soul represented all that is wrong with Baseball in Kansas City.  An ironic Bronx Cheer.

It represented nearly three decades of Biblical futility. It represented massive contempt for the entire infrastructure that led us to this day.  For David Glass. For “Our Time.” For Eduardo Villacis. For Vin Mazzaro. For Jonathan Sanchez. For Dayton Moore. For everyone that has used the phrase “cow town.” For the Chiefs. For our children who’ve never seen a playoff game won in this town.

We booed for Billy Butler.

We booed at Robinson Cano.

May I remind you that this was also the same night that we gave a standing ovation to Reggie Jackson.  A man who fed off of the boos in this stadium for years.  Cano crumbled. He absolutely caved.

Here’s the second half of Cano’s at bat.  You know what happens. But SPOILER ALERT: It doesn’t end well.

Yes. We booed. We booed until our throats were raw and our feelings were felt.

We booed for Kansas City.


Oh… and just because… This: