We're in Kaaaansas City Now
Three months after Spring Training we found ourselves on another baseball-inspired road trip. This time, we swapped Irish for Grandma, and shaved off about thirteen and a half hours.
All good trips need to start off with an argument.
“Rose! Are you drinking my water?”
“What? This is yours?”
“You know it is. I heard you bring it out to the car saying it was my armada. That is my special water. It has electrolytes in it.”
“Oh, I don’t need that. I make my own electrolytes.”
Grandma tossed an empty granola bar box at them to break it up, then attempted distraction by talking yoga positions.
“I’m workin’ on the Lotus right now.”
“I’m surprised you can’t already do that, Grandma. You can even do the Pretzel.”
“Well …”
“No, no, Grandma!”
“Not in the car!”
“Mom, what’s going on with the A/C? Why are there clouds of moisture coming out of the vents?”
“Oh, it just does that sometimes.”
Three and a half hours later, after Siri misdirected us to the Village Shalom Retirement Center next to the Menorah Medical Center, we rolled into Kansas City on the fumes of a probably busted A/C unit. Fortunately for us, the humidity was chopped in half from our side of the state.
Also fortunately for Carrie and myself, because the Angel’s batting practice started at 5:45. We lounged for a couple of hours at the hotel while the other girls shopped at Mom’s favorite store of all time: Victorian Papers. She tried to cajole us into coming. No go.
Only ten minutes late, we entered the mess that was Kauffman Stadium’s parking system. Ten minutes more, and we got to see the old boys in red up close again.
“Aw. I miss them,” Carrie said later, three rows behind the visitor’s dugout, after a Freese double and run.
She schooled some Royals fans on St. Louis and Pujols and Freese; polite conversation of course. Albert still huffing and puffing off the field as always, gold bling slung around his neck, David chatting it up with anyone who would listen – all his bros – on both teams apparently. Laughed at the ridiculous Mike Trout, somehow capable of popping his collar, even without a collar.
During the weekly fireworks display, we navigated the parking system through the hecklers, including one drunk young man looking for attention:
“HEY! CARDINALS! DAVID FREESE SUCKS! ROYALS RULE!”
We ignored them of course. When we finally saw Mom, Grandma, and Rose parked on a hill half a mile away, Carrie said, “Aren’t you proud of me for not punching that guy?”