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Year 46 almost in the books

In less than 12 hours–tomorrow at 0916 Central Daylight Time–my 46th year of life will end.

The 46th year began in beautiful Denver. The night before, I ate Rocky Mountain Oysters for the first time at the Buckhorn Exchange, one of Denver’s oldest and best-known restaurants. It’s just south of the Broncos’ and Rockies’ stadiums on Interstate 25.
The oysters–fried bull testicles–were delicious, and so was the elk I ate there as well. I got an order of oysters to go, but unfortunately, housekeeping at the Marriott Westminster threw them away. It was a not the best way to start the 46th year.
I drove to Boulder the day after my birthday. Gorgeous drive on US 36. The oysters I ate at a pub there were just as good.
I haven’t been back to Colorado since. I want to get back. Badly. I’m craving Rocky Mountain oysters just as much as real oysters. To satisfy my craving for the real ones, I’m going to have to get back to Louisiana. Soon.

My other travels during my 46th year took me to Des Moines a few times (and once for a side trip to the Quad Cities), to Omaha a few (not for the College World Series, but it’s the only place I can find PIbb Zero these days), to Kansas City more than I can count (no St. Louis since July 2021), and most importantly, back to northwest Arkansas for the first time since 2003.
Des Moines has the only Joe’s Crab Shack within 500 miles. Whataburger has expanded in Kansas City, and now some locations have mobile ordering. I splurged on Whataburger in Arkansas. Plus Fayetteville has the only Whole Foods I have seen with self checkout. Hopefully the new one being built in Overland Park will have it.

I lost a toe in June. I had a very nasty infection pop up on Memorial Day, and it oozed foul-smelling pus. It was grotesque. Amputation was the only solution.
The worst part was staying in the shitty Russell hospital overnight, being stuck with an a-hole who wouldn’t shut the f**k up, who hogged the TV, and worse, being on the side of the room with a window in the midst of a heat wave. If I had to stay more than one night, it would have gotten ugly.
Once I got out of the hospital, it was easy. I only had to go for IV antibiotics for six weeks, no more than two hours per day. I’ve been on oral antibiotics since August, and things are looking better.
Compare that to last year when I had two months of twice daily IVs, not to mention eight weeks of hyperbaric oxygen.
Honestly, if the toe had been removed last year when I had my first surgery, this probably could have been avoided. Better late than never.
I’m going to make it fine without the second toe on my right foot. Now the key is not to lose another.
I see Dr. Custer in a week. I’m glad I won’t have to show her something gross. I have shown Dr. Jones, but not Crista.

I saw Bill, Chris Blair and Dan Canevari in Arkansas in April, along with longtime Razorback athletic administrator Kevin Trainor and Bob Holt from the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette.. First time seeing Cano since my ill-fated brief time working at Southeastern Louisiana University. He’s forgiven me for the shit I caused him in Hammond. I felt bad about it for a long time.
I haven’t seen Peggy since last October. I haven’t seen Caitlyn since November 2019. I haven’t seen Brenda since April 2018. And there are some I haven’t seen in much longer.
I hope this changes during my 47th year.

Another thing I need to change in my 47th year: going long stretches without posting.
I need to discipline myself to post more often, even if it’s something short and pithy. It would probably help in other areas of my life.

The next time I post, I will officially be 46 years old. Time flies.

Foots is alive…somehow

If there were any rumors regarding the demise of the author of the Foots Prints blog, they were well-founded, but not true.
Yes, I had surgery on my right foot exactly three months ago. No, it isn’t an excuse for going this long without posting.

The surgery came quickly. I was at my usual Monday morning treatment on 15 March with Kelly Miller at the wound care center in Hays when she called Dr. Kirk Potter to set up surgery. Eight days later, I was under the knife.
I almost changed my mind. The Saturday before surgery, I had a terrible experience at the White Castle in Columbia, and I left a message for wound care stating I would not have the surgery three days later.
Fortunately, it got much better when I got to the White Castle in Wentzville, 130 kilometers (80 miles) east of Columbia. I then decided to go through with the surgery.
I won’t be frequenting the White Castle in Columbia anymore. Not only did they lose my online order—which was confirmed by the company’s app—they told me to get lost and not come back. What the heck?
It was the first time I went under general anesthesia since I was in the hospital in late 2004 for pneumonia and a collapsed lung, a serious ailment which almost put me 2.3 meters (six feet) under less than two months after my 28th birthday.

Following the surgery, there was hyperbaric oxygen treatment in Hays and twice-daily IVs in Russell. The IVs were seven days a week; at least with the oxygen, I got the weekends off.
I had to interrupt oxygen treatment for two weeks when my left eardrum came close to rupturing. I had to have tubes placed in my ears to make sure they could handle the change in pressure in the chamber. They did, and my last treatment was 4 June.

Right now, things are looking up. I have an IV treatment this Tuesday (29 June) and another appointment with Dr. Potter 6 July. Then comes more routine medical appointments, Dr. Custer and Dr. Jones 14-15 July.

I was in hell—almost literally—last Wednesday.
I was planning to go to St. Louis for a few days to enjoy the things I can’t in Kansas City or points west: White Castle, Imo’s Pizza, shopping at Schnuck’s and Dierberg’s.
Everything was great until Columbia.
That’s when the air conditioner in my car dead.
I won’t repeat the obscenities I blurted.
I begged a Buick dealership in St. Louis to repair my car, but they said no, then accused me of screaming, which I wasn’t. I realize I have a loud voice and when I get accused of screaming, I feel worse than I already do.
By time this played out, I was at New Florence, 80 km (50 miles) west of St. Louis. I was sweating profusely by time I made it into town, and of course, I got lost trying to find the hotel.
The only good thing: White Castle.
As bad as Columbia to St. Louis was, St. Louis to Kansas City was worse.
Of course, there was a record heat wave over Missouri last week. The heat index above 40 C (104 F), and I sweated more than I have since my trip to Baton Rouge in June 2010.
I was LUCKY to get an appointment at Cable Dahmer, my regular service location in Kansas City, last Friday. Four hours and $1,500 later, life was back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be for me.

Stay away from me, please. For your health. And my sanity.

At this point, I wouldn’t mind going into lockdown again. It would save my blood pressure from shooting through the roof every time I’m in public.
Every fucking time I go to the medical clinic in Hays, I have to worry about some stranger stepping on the elevator with me. I despise riding an elevator with a stranger, especially a strange male, during normal times, but during a pandemic? HELL NO.
I had it happen Monday. Had to wait until two people got on the damn elevator before pushing to button to wait for the car to return.
Then in Kansas City, it has happened twice at the hotel. I have to get through tonight and tomorrow. I hate staying on the ground floor of a hotel, but it may be the only way to avoid the elevator.

Speaking of the hotel, Thursday morning was straight out of The Twilight Zone.
My laptop was off. I was worried it had randomly shut down like it sometimes does, but then I noticed the light on the power adapter which indicates it is plugged in was off. That really worried me, because I would be without the computer until I got back to Russell, where i have another adapter (I have two so I don’t have to keep unplugging one).
It got worse. Much worse.
There was no hot water. I took a freezing shower, then shaved with water barely above room temperature, which makes it much harder. I’m fortunate I didn’t cut myself.
The lights by the bed were so dim they were no brighter than a night light. The lights in the bathroom, kitchen and living area all worked. Just as I was ready to leave, I noticed the light in the refrigerator was severely dimmed.
Then the elevators were not working.
I was already a bit upset with the TownePlace at Briarcliff due to the TV turning off after a few hours even without setting up a sleep timer; the small luggage carts; and the lack of mobile key, requiring me to stop by the desk, which I find a great hassle, especially when you’re dealing with an unfamiliar clerk.
There’s so much to like about that hotel. However, it may be time for a break for a few months.

Back to my social distancing woes.
I went back to Buffalo Wild Wings Wednesday against my better judgement. I have done all I can to not make eye contact with Rita Roberts, the general manager. Seeing her makes me sadder and lonelier than usual.
No social distancing problems there.
Today at Minksy’s was a different matter.
Everything was fine until just before four when some strange asshole wanted to sit on the stool next to me.
I was pissed beyond belief. I hate sitting next to strangers to begin with. During a pandemic? I’m petrified.
I lost my mind. I dropped an f-bomb. I was that angry.
I moved to a table, which is what I should have done when Larry left at 13:30.

In January, I got to Buffalo Wild Wings late on the first Saturday of the NFL playoffs. The bar was full, so Tina told me I could sit at a table designed for six people.
Tina asked me if I would share my table with a group, and I did. Three times.
There’s just too much wrong with my life now to put up with the shit. I feel like the biggest loser.

At least I got my White Castle fix. Drove to the St. Louis area Thursday to go to Schnucks and Dierberg’s. Also got my car washed and bought Polo at their outlet store in Chesterfield. Ate a few sliders on the drive back. This morning, I had the crab cake sliders White Castle only sells during Lent. I am kicking myself for not ordering clams.
The Polo shirts are needed now because Lacoste shirts are too short in the torso. I have a lot of Lacoste shirts that don’t cover my gut. I am afraid to wear them now.

Time for a (short) break from KC

The first half of two weeks (almost) in Kansas City ends tomorrow morning. I have to return to Russell to pick up another week’s worth of prescription meds, go to an appointment Monday in Hays, and get clean clothes. I return to the big city by Monday night.
Friday was a major bust. Larry was too busy to meet at Minsky’s for lunch; besides, I had another case of indigestion, and I woke up very late. Must have taken two Seroquel by accident. I had enough energy to go to Overland Park and pick up an Amazon shipment at Whole Foods, then go to Best Buy to replace the keyboard I bought last week in Topeka, which malfunctioned after eight days. I bought the two-year warranty, so it didn’t cost anything.
When I got back to the room, I was spent. I ordered in, watched the new Bunk’d, then aimlessly sat in the chair at the desk watching TV and typing up work things.
Today I’m back at Buffalo Wild Wings Shoal Creek for the second time in three days. I’m seriously considering not coming back. It is very, very painful right now.

I am going to stop staying at that SpringHill Suites on I-435 across the highway from Worlds of Fun, probably for the rest of this year.
The biggest problem is the location. I-435 in that area is under severe construction over the Missouri River. When I departed the hotel just before noon, southbound traffic was backed up to the exit at Parvin Road/48th Street and slow all the way to the river, and probably south of it too.
If I want to go back into Kansas, or even to Columbia, this is problematic. I found a way around it when I went to Overland Park and Leawood Wednesday and Friday, but it is a pain in the rear. Going north on I-435 isn’t as bad, but southbound stinks. Really stinks. I’ve already devised a detour tomorrow morning.
The television is antiquated compared to some other Marriott properties, notably the SpringHill Suites in Leawood—where I’ve stayed twice this year. The Leawood hotel now has Chromecast, where I can cast any app, except AppleTV, to the TV from one of my devices and watch. The same thing is also available at an older property, the Courtyard in St. Louis County off I-270 in the Westport area.
I purchased a Chromecast unit for my basement TV. Love it. Going to install it for my parents in the living room soon, and maybe in my mother’s bedroom.
I decided Wednesday I couldn’t live without Chromecast so I bought one to carry around with me and plug in to the TV at the hotels without it, which includes the TownePlace Briarcliff, where my next stay is. Love the hotel, but the TV is a little outdated, plus it hangs from the wall, which means I’ll have to run an extension cord. That’s life.

I want to go to Columbia and/or St. Louis (actually, Wentzville will suffice) this week. Tuesday is out because of my appointment, and Wednesday would have to wait until I’m done with work. Then there’s Larry’s plans. I need White Castle right now. I’m hurting. Badly.

Late start to the last day (for now) in KC

I finally got to Buffalo Wild Wings…3 1/2 hours late. I originally planned to get there for 1100 to see the Missouri-West Virginia game. However, stupidity on my part (staying up very, very late) led me to sleeping way past my 0930 alarm. Actually, I woke up at 0905 with a terrible case of indigestion, then turned off my alarm. By time I finally rousted myself from bed, it was 1306.

I seriously considered staying at the hotel the whole day, but with my Buzztime app closed and not connected, I knew I had to get out of the room if I wanted to play trivia today. Therefore, I deicded to drive to Liberty. It also helped that I wanted to get my car washed again after bugs doing suicide missions on my bumper yesterday. I’ve washed my car every day since I’ve been in Kansas City. I’m paying for that ulimited wash plan, so why not use it?

Back to Russell tomorrow. I’ve got a boatload of work to get done before Wednesday at noon…at lot of it is due Monday and Tuesday. The nearly non-stop trivia has to end on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, but it can continue Wednesday afternoon, Thursday and Friday for the most part.

It has been a very fruitful trip. Each day has had something good.


Wednesday was my day away from Buffalo Wild Wings. After finishing up what work I had for the Russell County News, I ventured deep into Johnson County for a new experience.

I found The Gents Place in an online search last month. I discovered it was an upscale barber shop which featured massaging shampoo treatments, and even better, straight razor shaves.

I have always wanted to shave with a straight razor. However, I am also realistic. I know it’s expensive and labor intensive, and I am often forgetful, and with a straight razor, that’s big trouble, becuase if the razor gets dull, the face is carved like a Thanksgiving turkey. Therefore, I settle for the safety razor, which is far superior to anything a cheap cartridge razor sold by Dollar Shave Club, Harry’s or any drugstore sells.

It was expensive, but well worth it. I loved the smooth feel after the straight razor shave. Heather, the lady who took care of me, was wonderful. I can’t wait to go back.

Actually, I went back Thursday. However, it was to retrieve the case for the keyboard I carry with me to use with my iPad. I didn’t realize I had left it in Leawood until I was back at the hotel north of the Missouri River.


Thursday got a little hectic after my return to Leawood. I made the long venture to Liberty to get the car washed and pick up some things at Price Chopper. But instead of proceeding to Buffalo Wild Wings, Frank texted me and said he needed some articles right away. So I hit the gas down Cookingham Road to US 169 to the hotel. Everything was done before 1500, so I didn’t miss that much time at B-Dubs.

A very nice surprise was waiting for me. Joanne, one of the teachers I met in June, was enjoying a beer. She recognized me right away–I was wearing the same shirt I did that day in June–and we chatted for an hour and a half. I told Tina to put her beers on my tab. Of course, this surpised Joanne the way it did in June.

Heather, the teacher who was with Joanne in June, got engaged later in the summer. When Joanne texted her and said I was there, Heather still remembered me. I was impressed.

Joanne wasn’t the only lady I met Thursday.

A few seats down at the bar, I noticed a couple of ladies enjoying themselves. I complimented one on how her green sweater complimented her eyes. That got me talking to them.

The ladies, Rhonda and Kim were old friends who. had not seen each other in a long time. I offered to pay for a beer or two, but they politely declined.

I shocked myself by going up to two ladies whom I had not seen before and striking up a conversation. Where was that when I was 33? Better late than never.

A Bears fan wearing a Mitch Trubisky jersey sat next to me to watch the Packers-Bears game. I told him I bet he wished that jersey said “Mahomes” instead of “Trubisky”. He shrugged it off, but after Trubisky’s poor performance in Green Bay’s 10-3 win, I bet he wished Mahomes were a Bear and not a Chief.


I woke up at 0350 Friday morning. I don’t know why. I set my alarm for 0615 because I had an appointment in Liberty at 0900. The early wake-up gave me time to do a few things, especially get my car’s interior clean, before my appointment.

I returned to Buffalo Wild Wings Zona Rosa for the first time since March. I met Larry to play trivia for three hours. I made my way to Shoal Creek later after a little R&R at the hotel.

I didn’t expect to see Larry, because he told me earlier in the week he was in Cincinnati on business. But I logged into the Zona Rosa server from the app and saw I was in second place. So I drove around the parking lot, and sure enough the BMW with the St. Louis Cardinals license plate was there.

I ate too much late last night and I took too much Metamucil. No wonder I’m feeling bloated and gassy today.


Antonio Brown signed with the Patriots. Like Tom Brady needs more help.

Press Your Luck—the good and bad

Late Thursday night when I was searching for something to watch on Hulu, I discovered a game show which originally aired during my formative years had been revived.

Press Your Luck aired for three years (19 September 1983-26 September 1986) on CBS alongside two highly-rated game shows, The $25,000 Pyramid and The Price Is Right, the latter of which begins its 48th season on CBS in September.

The premise of Press Your Luck was pretty simple. Players took spins on a computerized game board with 18 squares. They could accumulate cash or prizes with each spin, but if they hit a “Whammy”, they would lose all they had accumulated to that point. Four whammies eliminated a contestant.

To earn spins, players had to know the answers to questions asked by the host, Peter Tomarken; if a player buzzed in and gave the correct answer, he/she earned three spins, while a player who guessed the correct answer out of a list of three received one spin.

There was some strategy involved. A player could pass his or her spins at any time. Those spins would go to the player with the highest amount of winnings at that point, unless the other two contestants were tied, then the player passing the spins could choose whom to pass to. The player receiving the passed spins had to take all of the spins passed to him or her, unless he or she hit a whammy. At that point, the passed spins would transfer to the earned column (spins won by answering questions correctly and hitting spaces on the board which included an extra spin).

The winner of the game was the only player to keep his or her earnings. He or she would come back until (a) he or she won three consecutive games, at which point that contestant retired undefeated or (b) the player went over CBS’ earnings limit, which was $25,000 when PYL premiered; it was later raised to $50,000 and then $75,000. There is no cap on winnings now; if there was, Drew Carey couldn’t offer Maseratis and other ridiculously expensive cars on TPIR during Dream Car Week, nor insane amounts of cash during Big Cash Week.

A bum from Ohio named Michael Larson cheated his ass off in 1984 to win $110,237 in cash and prizes. The unemployed jerk spent his days watching tapes of PYL in order to memorize the pattern of the lights on the board. He figured it out and kept avoiding whammies so much (a) the game was aired over two shows; as luck would have it, the first half aired on a Friday, meaning you had to wait out the weekend to see the second half, and (b) Tomarken and the other players were frozen like zombies while Larson performed his robbery of CBS.

Tomarken and CBS executives were dumbfounded. One producer did not want to give Larson his winnings, thinking he cheated; but in the end, Larson got his loot, after Uncle Sam got his cut, of course. Larson went broke and died in 1994. Too freaking bad.

Game Show Network, now shortened to GSN, began airing PYL reruns in the late 1990s. In 2002, it created a semi-revival of the show called Whammy: The All New Press Your Luck.

I did not like that revival. Too many inane prizes that nobody cared about, not to mention the infamous “double whammies”, which not only took the player’s winnings, but dumped something upon him or her (water, golf balls, feathers, etc.).

Early this year, ABC and Fremantle Media announced Press Your Luck would be coming back in its original format. Sadly, Tomarken could not have hosted the revival had ABC wanted him to, because Peter and his wife died in a 2006 plane crash off the coast of California. The Tomarkens were delivering organs for transplant when they went down in the Pacific.

Less than three months after Tomarken’s death, CBS played PYL as part of its Game Show Marathon, a one-off series of classic games which also included TPIR, Match Game, Family Feud and Card Sharks. Rikki Lake hosted, while Leslie Nielsen, Tim Meadows and Kathy Najimy played for charity, with Najimy winning. Nielsen, unfortunately, hit four whammies.

Elizabeth Banks, the fabulously talented and fabulously beautiful actress, was chosen to host ABC’s PYL. Great choice.

The only knock I have on Elizabeth is she needs to stop wearing so much black. In three of the first four episodes, her wardrobe was black. However, in the third, she wore a green dress which exposed her arms, shoulders and lower legs. WOW!

The game play is faithful to the original, with one notable addition.

There is now a bonus game. The lack of a bonus game in the 1980s differentiated PYL from most game shows on the air in the mid-1980s.

The player who wins the most cash and prizes over two rounds in the main game keeps what he or she has accumulated to that point, then goes to the bonus game. The players go to the board and attempt to build their bank.

  • There are anywhere from one to six rounds in the bonus game, with each round having a set number of spins. A player must take all spins in a given round, plus any spins he or she might earn from hitting a space on the board which gives the player an extra spin.
  • Once the round ends, Elizabeth asks the player whether he or she wants to go on or stop and keep what is in the bank. Once a player commits to another round, there is no turning back; he or she must get his or her spin total to zero. Dollar amounts increase in each round, with some spaces worth $100,000 in the sixth round.
  • As an added sweetener, players have three “dream prizes” available to win on the board. Those prizes are selected by the players and range from the practical (a new car) to the strange (a week traveling on Michael Bolton’s tour bus and having VIP seats to all of his concerts) to the out of this world (pizza for life). There are other prizes out there which are not customized, like cars and vacations.
  • The best thing about PYL, both then and now, are the whammy animations. Some animations from the original series have been updated with new graphics, while ABC has added some fresh ones. To show PYL has kept up, in the original show, animations included The Supremes and The Beatles; the new show has the whammies imitating the Backstreet Boys.
  • I would love to see some celebrities play PYL for charity. Like have two shows with The Brady Bunch kids. Or fellow game show hosts.
  • Another revival taking me back to my childhood. And this one is pretty good.
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    Speaking of pressing your luck, I did it yesterday and lost big time

    I got caught in two massive traffic jams caused by construction on the eastern side of Interstate 435 in Kansas City. It took 30 minutes to travel from Missouri Highway 350 to Highway 210 due to construction at the junction of I-435 and I-70 near Arrowhead and Kaufman Stadiums, and on the bridge over the Missouri River just south of Highway 210.

    Of course, some idiots wait until the last possible second until merging, thinking getting a few cars ahead will save them time.

    IT WON’T. If anything, it’s dangerous, because it’s more likely to cause an accident.

    Yesterday was terrible, at least after my laser hair removal treatment. Let’s see:

    • I was stupid enough to attempt to handle dry ice without gloves at a grocery store in Prairie Village. My left thumb and right ring finger stung for a few minutes. I’m having other problems with my right ring finger, and it may come to an operation.
    • Larry couldn’t show up at Buffalo Wild Wings because a contracter working on a house next door parked a large truck in his yard, damaging his lawn.
    • Tina didn’t show up to work at Buffalo Wild Wings. Between her absence and Larry’s, I was lonely as hell.
    • The Women’s World Cup match. Megan Rapinoe, everyone’s favorite anarchist, scored twice as the not okay USA won 2-1 over France.
    • Bill, the human chimney who plays trivia every Wednesday and Friday without fail at this Buffalo Wild Wings, showed up at 1630, prompting my exit. Maybe it was for the best; I was exhausted from getting up at 0445.
    • I thought I had lost a cable at Buffalo Wild Wings. The search for a Pilot travel center, where I bought the cable last month, took me straight into the massive traffic jams on I-435, because I was in Kansas picking up things I ordered from Amazon.

    Add in the stifling heat, which is as bad as I remember it from Louisiana, and it hasn’t been good. With everyone I know at Buffalo Wild Wings not scheduled to work tomorrow, I might be in search of a new trivia locale tomorrow–should I want to play. The thought of coming into a place with foreign faces is not appealing.

    I want to cry. I don’t know why.

    Wronged again

    Last night almost ended disastrously for me.

    Driving back to my hotel at 2100, an SUV barreled down Ambassador towards Cookingham in the wrong direction, driving northbound in a southbound lane. It was just after I turned right from Cookingham onto Ambassador when I exited Interstate 29 near Kansas City International Airport.

    Needless to say, it scared the bejesus out of me. I was in the other lane, so my car and my body are fine.

    Had I not been in the other lane, I would have been able to take the driver to the cleaners financially (provided I survived), since he or she would have been 100 percent wrong for driving the wrong way. While I may have been able to bleed that person dry, I’m certain I would either be (a) dead or (b) paralyzed.

    Believe me, it ended up better this way.

    I am beyond dumbfounded by drivers who cannot follow a directional sign. To have this happen on back to back days in the same city on the same street less than five kilometers (three miles) apart is unfathomable.

    I wasn’t the only witness to this driving stupidity.

    I was behind a Platte County Sheriff’s SUV. Once the errant vehicle passed, the sheriff’s vehicle U-turned and turned right onto Cookingham. Here’s hoping the idiot was caught and thrown in jail. Even if he or she was not drunk, driving the wrong way down the street is not something an officer will just give you a ticket and let you go. But I’m certain he or she was wasted pretty good.

    I hope this jerk enjoys the consequences of his or her sheer idiocy.

    Oops I lost my concentration playing trivia. I’m at Buffalo Wild Wings Shoal Creek (Liberty), where I met Robb for a few games. This is it for trivia this trip, because I have work to do tomorrow, then I’m getting out of town Tuesday. I was originally staying until Wednesday, but it will be brutally cold Wednesday, so cold I don’t know if my car would start. Therefore, it’s best to skip town early.

    The Pro Bowl is today. The AFC leads 17-0 late in the first half. I’m certain Kansas City will have the highest television ratings for the game since Patrick Mahoney is the AFC’s starting quarterback. I don’t care about the NFL right now, and I certainly don’t care about the Pro Bowl.

    The Patriots had 35,000 fans show up at a rally in Foxborough prior to their departure for Atlanta and Super Bowl LIII. I’m betting there aren’t 35,000 Patriots fans outside the six New England states. If there are, they probably love Brady and will jump off the New England bandwagon once he retires, much the same way the NBA’s Heat and Cavaliers have lost fans because LeBron no longer plays for those teams. It was the same way when Michael Jordan played for the Bulls.

    Next Sunday, I might be in bed by 1800. No way I’m watching the Super Bowl. None. .Sounds sacrilegious, but right now, I have no desire to watch a game matching a team which doesn’t belong (Rams) and a team I am sick and tired of seeing, and even more sick and tired of seeing their douchebag coach (Belichick), douchebag quarterback (Brady), douchebag tight end (Gronk) and douchebag receiver (Edelman).

    If I do stay up late next Sunday, at least I have work to do and lots of movies to watch to bide my time.

    Driving dangerously

    Two incidents driving today in Kansas City, north–as opposed to North Kansas City–made me shudder.

    The first, at 0925, came on Interstate 35 south when a white Ford F-150 pickup, Kansas license plate 337 LMX, was driving 55 MPH (89 km/h). Normally, that would not be a cause for concern in an urban area, but (a) he was doing 55 in the LEFT lane and (b) he was doing 10 MPH (17 km/h) UNDER the posted speed limit. I honked and flashed my high beams, but this driver refused to get over. This went on for three miles before I said enough was enough and got over to get around him.

    The left lane on a controlled-access highway with two lanes in each direction is for passing. There are signs in every state in which I’ve driven which state explicitly “SLOWER TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT” and/or “LEFT LANE FOR PASSING ONLY”. This person thought differently and claimed the left lane like he owned it.

    Those drivers are a catastrophe waiting to happen, and not necessarily for themselves, but for the other drivers who are doing the speed limit in the right lane and trying to keep traffic moving. People who drive slow in the left lane do not need to be on the road. They are deadly.

    Speaking of deadly, a driver’s worst nightmare came up at 1545.

    Driving south on Ambassador Drive between 112th Street and Tiffany Springs Parkway, I noticed a large white Ford Expedition from Iowa driving the wrong way in the left lane.

    Lucky for me, nobody was on my right, so I could quickly change lanes.

    The Iowan did not see ONE WAY signs in the median on Ambassador. Wow.

    Today highlighted why driving defensively is the only way to go. I haven’t been in an accident with another vehicle since I lived in Louisiana, and I would like to keep it that way.

    Between road incidents, I stopped at Buffalo Wild Wings Zona Rosa to see if Larry were there, like he usually is on Friday. I snuck into the restroom and played trivia in the stall. He wasn’t there, and he texted me he was at the BWW at Shoal Creek (Liberty). I sped there (I’ll admit, I did over the speed limit, but slowed down when it got congested) to meet him. Hadn’t been to that BWW in over a year. Glad I got to see him.

    It’s warmed up some in Kansas City. But another cold front is coming. Those who forecasted a colder than normal winter are turning up prophetic. I like it colder. Just as long as I can drive and not slip on ice.

    Baseball+KC=crazy love

    Tonight is the calm before the storm in Kansas City. In 24 hours, the Royals will take the field in Baltimore for their first American League Championship Series game since October 16, 1985, when the Royals somehow erased a 3-1 series deficit to the Toronto Blue Jays by winning 6-2 at Exhibition Stadium.

    It’s all over the media–TV, radio, newspapers. Kansas City can’t get enough of the Royals. I figured if the Royals ever got good again it would be like this, because for all of the talk about the Chiefs, Kansas City is first and foremost a baseball-mad town. The city was home to one of the most successful Negro League teams for nearly 50 years and saw many a legend pass through, and sadly, many of those legends never saw action in a single Major League Baseball game due to segregation.

    One of the Negro League legends who got to the Majors, Satchel Paige, made his last appearance in Kansas City. He pitched three scoreless innings for the Athletics on September 25, 1965 vs. the Red Sox, probably the highlight of the Athletics’ 13 seasons in KC. The Athletics were in tatters when they moved from Philadelphia in 1955, and then went into the toilet when Charles O. Finley bought the club in 1961.

    To put it mildly, Finley was an asshole. BIG ASSHOLE. He tried to dick around with the dimensions at Municipal Stadium, and in 1964, he ordered the right field fence to be angled to a point where it stuck out exactly 296 feet from home plate, the same distance it was from the plate to right field at Yankee Stadium. The American League told him to immediately cease and desist. He then moved the fence back to the bare minimum of 325 feet, and the he tried putting a roof hanging 29 feet over the field so it would be effectively 296 feet. Nope. Even with the right field fence at 325 in 1964, Municipal Stadium allowed the most home runs of any park in American League history up until that time. The next year, FInley went 180 degrees in the opposite direction and erected a 40-foot fence in right field. Not surprisingly, Municipal Stadium allowed fewer home runs than any park in the Majors in 1965 and 1966.

    Finley was even worse with his Mule, Charlie O. Charlie O. was treated far better than his players and staff, and he was known to poop all over the field, and he his lackeys were expected to pick up the poop.

    Kansas City was beyond angry to see the Athletics leave in 1967. So angry, in fact, U.S. Senator Stuart Symington threatened to revoke baseball’s antitrust exemption if Kansas City was not given an expansion team by 1971. Kansas City was not on the list of expansion candidates for 1969, but commissioner Spike Eckert and owners, fearing the loss of the antitrust exemption, buckled to Symington’s threat and awarded KC a replacement AL team for ’69.

    Luckily for KC, the man who stepped up to own the Royals was 180 degrees from Finley. Ewing Kauffman grew up Kansas City, loved baseball, and had deep pockets to spend the money to attract talent to the Royals. He also was forward thinking in player development, beginning the Royals Academy in 1970. The Academy is long gone, but its legacy will never be forgotten, for it produced dozens of men who one day wore the Royals uniform, most famously Frank White, one of the best defensive second basemen to play the game. White is one of only two Royals players to have his number retired; you can guess the other.

    In July 1975, the Royals hired Whitey Herzog as their new manager. Herzog previously managed the Texas Rangers in 1973 before he was fired by another terrible owner, Bob Short, who moved the second incarnation of the Washington Senators to an oversized minor league ballpark halfway between Dallas and Fort Worth in 1972. Arlington Stadium was never suited for Major League Baseball; the only reason Short left DC for north Texas was the only reason any owner moves his or her team: MONEY.

    Herzog’s authority in Arlington was undercut by Short, never more so when Herzog was forced to start 18-year old left-handed pitcher David Clyde only three weeks after he was drafted out of Houston’s Westchester High School. Clyde was 18-0 with an 0.18 ERA during his senior season, but no man, no matter how much he dominates in high school, is ready for Major League Baseball without at least getting some seasoning in the minors. Now college players might be ready right away, but high school, no way. Short was desperate to draw people to his crappy park–the Rangers were averaging less than 8,000 fans per game–and so he brought Clyde up immediately. The Rangers had their first sellout when Clyde pitched against the Twins on June 27, 1973, and although Clyde was wild, he won, and Short continued to

    When Billy Martin was fired by the Tigers in September 1973, Short put Herzog out of his misery by firing him and hiring Martin. Even though Texas was just 47-91 under Herzog, the White Rat had the Rangers playing much better fundamental baseball, and the team did not get shutout through the first 80 games of that season after being shut out 26 times in 1972, when Texas’ manager was the greatest hitter who ever lived, Ted Williams.

    Herzog preferred an aggressive style of baseball, one which emphasized speed. Hit-and-run wasn’t just a novel ploy; it was a means to score runs. And Royals Stadium was perfect for Herzog’s style, with the old, hard artificial turf and power alleys 385 feet from home plate.

    Indeed, Herzog had the Royals in the playoffs in his first full season of 1976, winning the first of three consecutive AL West titles in 1976.At that time, only the Mets had experienced more success that soon, winning the 1969 World Series in their eighth season. However, the Mets were  The Royals very nearly got to the World Series on their first postseason try, but Chris Chambliss broke the Royals’ hearts by hitting a home run off Mark Littel on the first pitch of the bottom of the ninth in the fifth and deciding game to give the Bronx Bombers a 7-6 victory. The Yankees would again win the ALCS in five in 1977, but this time, New York won games four and five in Kansas City. There were rumors the Royals’ slugging first baseman, John Mayberry, partied all night after the Royals won game three and was too hung over to play game four. In 1978, George Brett hit three home runs in game three at Yankee Stadium, but this time, the Yankees needed only four games to close the ALCS.

    After the Royals’ pitching went south in 1979, Herzog was fired and replaced by Jim Frey.Herzog wouldn’t have to wait long to find another job, hired in June 1980 by the other Major League Baseball team in Missouri, the St. Louis Cardinals. He was also the Cardinals’ general manager at first, but relinquished those duties in 1982. As GM, Herzog quickly rebuilt the Cardinals, trading for Bruce Sutter and Ozzie Smith, both of whom are now enshrined in Cooperstown.

    KC returned with a vengeance in 1980. Brett was flirting with a .400 batting average deep into August before finishing at .390. Willie Wilson came of age as the Royals’ leadoff man, and Amos Otis enjoyed a renaissance in center field, complimenting a strong pitching staff led by Dennis Leonard, Larry Gura and new closer Dan Quisenberry. The Royals easily won the AL West, then swept the Yankees, who won 103 games under future Royals manager Dick Howser, in the ALCS. Brett’s three-run home run in the eighth inning of game three into the right field upper deck at Yankee Stadium off of Goose Gossage put an excl

    Getting to the World Series and winning it are two distinctly different quests. The Royals found that out the hard way against Philadelphia. The Phillies, led by Pete Rose and one of the greatest left-handed pitchers of all-time, Steve Carlton, won the first two games in the City of Brotherly Love. Brett was hampered in game two by a bad case of hemorrhoids, which he had surgically removed when the team returned to Kansas City. Brett was healthy for game three, and KC won that game, and game four as well to even the series.

    Philadelphia won game five 3-2, and then took it back home, where the Phillies won game six and the series.

    The Royals slipped below .500 in 1983, with the season’s highlight being the Pine Tar Incident at Yankee Stadium. Yankee manager Billy Martin tried to get a ninth inning home run by Brett disqualified because he had too much pine tar on his bat. At first, the umpires called Brett out because the pine tar was higher on the bat than the legal 18-inch limit. Instead, Brett was out and the Yankees won 4-3. Two days later, AL president Lee MacPhail reversed the umpires, upholding the Royals’ protest and ordering the game to resume three weeks later, with Brett’s home run on the board. Brett did not take part in the game following his home run, since he was ejected for attacking the umpires, as was Howser, by now managing the Royals. When the game resumed, it took all of NINE minutes for the Royals to close the game out.

    In 1984, the Royals won a weak AL West by holding off the Angels and Twins. They were no match for Detroit in the ALCS, as the Tigers, who started the year 35-5 and won 108 games by time it ended, swept the series three straight. The Tigers would pummel the Padres, Kansas City’s 1969 expansion brethern who did not make the playoffs until that season, in the World Series.

    Then came 1985. The Royals and Angels engaged in an exciting season-long race for the AL West title, with KC finally overcoming the Halos late. Nobody gave the Royals much of a chance against the playoff newcomer Blue Jays in the ALCS, and Toronto proved the experts right by winning three of four games.

    In past years, the Blue Jays would have been on to the World Series. Not in 1985.

    Starting that season, the league championship series were epxanded by commissioner Peter Ueberroth from best-of-five to best-of-seven, largely to increase contributions to the players’ pension fund, which received a cut of the gate from every postseason game.

    The Royals took full advantage of the expanded LCS, winning game five in Kansas City behind a Charlie Liebrandt shutout, then going back to Toronto and stunning the Canadians by winning games six and seven at frosty Exhibition Stadium. Hours before the Royals won game seven in Ontario, the Cardinals finished off the Dodgers in six in the NLCS.

    The Show-Me Series was here. It was pure euphoria for Missouri sports fans at a time they needed it most. The Chiefs were in the midst of a long, dark period which saw them make one playoff appearance between 1972 and 1989; the football Cardinals relapsed into irrelevance after coming within a missed field goal of winning the NFC East division in 1984 (they would be in Arizona by 1988); the University of Missouri was mired near the bottom of the Big Eight Conference on the gridiron, saved from the cellar only by the pitifulness of Kansas State and Kansas; the Blues would get to the NHL playoffs and flame out year after year; and the state lost the NBA the previous March when the Kings packed up and left Kansas City for Sacramento.

    Most expected the Cardinals to win the series. They were there only three years earlier, where St. Louis defeated the Brewers in seven games, and they played in a much tougher division, where they needed every one of their 101 victories to win the NL East by just three games over the Mets. The Cardinals had NL MVP Willie McGee, who led the league with a .353 batting average, and two 20-game winners in John Tudor and Joaquin Andjuar, although the latter won only once in Septebmer and not at all in October. The Cardinals had a good slugger in first baseman Jack Clark, but not much power otherwise. St. Louis was short-handed, however, as rookie left fielder Vince Coleman, who led the league in stolen bases, was out after he broke a bone in his leg when he was run over by the tarpaulin at Busch Stadium prior to game four of the NLCS.

    Kansas City had a strong starting pitching rotation (sound familiar), with left-handers Charlie Leibrandt, Danny Jackson and Bud Black complimenting ace right-hander Bret Saberhagen. George Brett was still a feared hitter, and Willie Wilson gave the Royals the better leadoff man in the Series.

    St. Louis won the first two games at Kansas City, but both were close, 3-1 and 4-2. When the series shifted east on I-70, the Royals turned to Saberhagen, and he handcuffed the Redbirds 6-1, although many in St. Louis felt AL umpire Jim McKean squeezed Cardinal pitchers while giving Saberhagen a generous strike zone, a claim which was not totally refuted by Herzog.  St. Louis appeared to bounce back by winning game four 3-0 behind Tudor, but the Cardinals were crushed in game five 6-1, sending the series west.

    Then came the infamous game six. St. Louis took a 1-0 lead into the bottom of the ninth, and it appeared they were two outs away from the title when Jorge Orta hit a soft groudn ball to Clark. Clark’s throw to closer Todd Worrell was in plenty of time, but first base umpire Don Denkinger–American League–called Orta safe. The Cardinals then fell apart, as catcher Darrell Porter, an ex-Royal and the MVP of the 1982 Series with the Cardinals, committed a passed ball, and Clark dropped a catchable foul pop-up. Kansas City took full advantage, with former Cardinal Dane Iorg lacing a two-run single to right field to score the tying and winning runs to force the seventh game.

    Game seven was a disaster for the Cardinals. Tudor was ineffective, and after he was taken out in the third, he went into the clubhouse and badly cut his left hand on an electric fan. The Royals took the lead early on a Darryl Motley two-run home run in the second , and kept pouring it on, rubbing salt in the Cardinals’ wounds by scoring six runs in the fifth. In that inning, Herzog was ejected for screaming at Denkinger, telling him “We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t missed the (freaking) call last night!” One pitch later, Andjuar was ejected and had to be restrained from going after Denkinger. Final: Royals 11, Cardinals 0. Kansas City’s finest sporting moment since Super Bowl IV.

    Sadly, it all went south right away. Howser was diagnosed with brain cancer in June 1986, and he would die one year later. Brett and Saberhagen would stick around and continue to be productive, but the Royals soon faced the new economic realities of baseball, and by 1994, when the strike hit, they had been relegated to also-ran status. KC fell below .500 in 1995, finished last in its division for the first time in ’96, and by 2002, the Royals would begin a five-year stretch in which they lost 100 or more games four times.

    It wasn’t until 2013 that the Royals fully rebounded, going 86-76 thanks to a strong second half. Now, they stand just four wins away from their first World Series since I was 9 years old. If the Royals can make the World Series, Kansas City will go bonkers. If the Royals WIN the World Series, look out.

    Soggy KCMO

    I thought I had escaped constantly rainy weather when I left Louisiana. I was wrong.

    It poured in Kansas City early this morning. A heavy thunderstorm came through at 1:30 a.m., so strong it knocked out the power to the Courtyard for a minute. They are expecting 2 to 3 inches through tomorrow at noon. This is on top of the heavy rain last week, the rain which was going on when I left last Thursday.

    Contrast that to western Kansas, where we’ve been in a drought since I moved there in September 2005. It has gotten so bad in Russell that the city council has enforced strict restrictions on usage on numerous occasions, banning the use of water on lawns and to wash cars. We have a well at 1224 North Brooks, so our lawn hasn’t suffered, and it’s made a lot of those around town angry. Then again, my grandfather isn’t going to leave any stone unturned, and he planned this when he built the house in the late 1970s.

    It’s not unexpected areas of Kansas from the US 281 corridor, where Russell lies, and west are in a drought. It’s semi-arid to start with. I’ve seen a lot of brown on 281 from Russell to Smith Center, US 183 from Hays to Philipsburg, US 283 from WaKeeney to Norton and from WaKeeney to Dodge City, K-23 from Grainfield to Selden and then US 83 to Oberlin, K-25 from Colby to Atwood, and K-27 from Goodland to St. Francis.

    Go further east on I-70, and you begin to see green. It seems 281 is the line of demarcation, because I don’t see nearly as much brown in places like Beloit, Mankato, Belleville, Washington and Salina. From Abilene east on I-70, it’s fine. Same with US 36 east of Washington.

    The drought is even worse in southwest Kansas, where rain is scarce even in a good year. I’ll never forget going to Ulysses in 2010 for a Russell High softball game, and seeing just how brown all the fields were on Kansas Highway 25 from Lakin to Ulysses. Two years later, I took K-25 from Leoti to Lakin, and same thing, lots and lots of brown. It’s like that most of the time in Wichita, Kearny, Grant, Haskell, Seward, Stevens and Morton counties.

    Here’s the kicker about Kansas City: there’s sharp contrast to rainfall in the metropolitan area itself. The areas north of the Missouri River, especially the areas in Platte County towards Kansas City International Airport, have been soaked in the recent rains. On the other hand, many areas in Johnson County, especially Olathe and areas to the south like De Soto and Spring Hill, are significantly short on rain for the year. Last week, most of the rain fell in Clay and Platte counties in Missouri, while far, far less fell south of I-70. There was a one inch burst in five minutes at the Kansas Speedway last Thursday, significantly cutting into practice time for the NASCAR races last weekend.

    Because of all the rain expected, I’m not changing hotels. I thought about staying in Overland Park, but I don’t want to go back and forth–if I am going to Buffalo Wild Wings–and fight the slick roads. It’s enough of a challenge going the three miles between Tiffany Springs and Zona Rosa.

    I’m driving to Brookville, about 20 miles south and west of Salina, for Smith Center’s football game tomorrow night. I don’t mind driving in the rain; I’ll just leave earlier. I don’t want it raining at kickoff.