In my last entry, I made brief mention of my time in Kansas City. I need to speak on it more. Book events are rarely scheduled on weekends because stores typically don’t need any extra promotion to bring in customers on those days. This is the same reason that bars schedule pub trivia and karaoke on weekdays. So last week, while I had an event in St. Louis on Friday and another in Des Moines on Monday, I had nothing to do in between. I decided to go to Kansas City.
The allure was simple: baseball. I was eager to check out the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, which opened in 1990 but was rejuvenated under new leadership in 2008. While writing the chapters in my book on The Jackie Robinson Story, 42, and Bingo Long, I learned so much about the complicated history of the Negro Leagues, and it made me want to learn more. The museum firmly met my expectations. It was a little smaller than I hoped—you could do the whole thing in an hour—but it does what it needs to. It uncovers the full story of the League and its players through historical artifacts, video, and news clippings. You can touch the seats from real Negro League stadiums. You can gaze through glass at the teams’ colorful uniforms (I really wanted to touch them, but no). I was the most impressed with the statues that were thoughtfully positioned around a miniature indoor field. Made by Veritas Bronze, the statues made these men come to life in a way I have rarely experienced. Looking into their eyes was like looking into a human soul. It was uncanny, eerie, and profound.
In a sense, it was helpful that the museum was smaller than anticipated because I had a game to get to. I have been obsessed with Kauffman Stadium, the home of the Kansas City Royals, since I was a kid, mostly because they had water fountains just beyond the outfield fences. When I was 10 years old, I wrote a screenplay about two friends who uncover a treasure map that takes them to every MLB stadium, and I’m pretty sure there was a scene in which they romp through the fountains at Kauffman. But adult friends had also told me it was just a great place to watch a game, and they were correct. From the second I walked in, I knew it was special. It feels airy and open, and intimate like a minor league stadium. They have plenty to do for children, including a baseball-themed miniature golf course and a row of cornhole boards, none of which feels like a cash grab or a distraction from the game. Instead, it all coheres into a picnic-like atmosphere. They also have great merch, including shirts and hats from the Kansas City Monarchs, the great Negro Leagues team, and some of most creative cap designs I’ve ever seen.
Oh, and their scoreboard is the best in baseball.
It also helps that the team is fun. I’ve long maintained that the best seasons as a fan are those in which your team is unexpectedly good. When they’re already great, it creates high expectations, and high expectations ruin the fun. “World Series or bust” is no path to happiness. But then there are those seasons when your team is supposedly building towards a contender, but they actually show up a year early and surprise the heck out of everyone. Those are the best. The Royals lost over 100 games last year, and this year, they’re currently in a Wild Card slot. The vibes at the stadium were just great, like they’re playing with house money.
And the people, not shockingly, were super nice. On Saturday afternoon when the Royals played the Mariners, I sat in the sixth row behind the dugout (for a mere $60!). To my right was a young married couple. He was a lifelong Royals fan and she, for reasons unknown, was a Mariners fan. I talked to him throughout the whole game. He had ADHD, and he told me that scoring the game in his little notebook helped him focus. I’m not sure my incessant conversation helped much, but he tolerated it with a healthy dose of midwestern nice. The couple to my right was equally cool. They are from Kansas City but are both Mariners fans, mostly because of this incredible four-hour video on the Mariners that became a viral sensation. [It’s definitely the longest video to ever go viral. It’s the Shoah of baseball videos.] They were also huge cinephiles and told me all about the film scene in Kansas City. They had even recently returned from a nitrate film festival in Rochester, New York. It was kismet that we were seated together. Naturally, my book came up in conversation, and they bought a copy from Amazon right in front of me.
The only problem with this stadium is that they’re trying to get rid of it. It’s the fourth-oldest stadium in the league, and it sits about 10 miles outside of town. Apparently, that’s enough to make city officials and a large number of fans feel like they could do better. A proposal to build a new stadium in downtown KC came up for a vote last year. It was roundly defeated, largely due to the fact that it would displace many small businesses. But that can’t stop the march of progress. Last week, the Kansas legislature approved a package to build a new stadium just over the border (Kansas City itself stretches between the two states). That doesn’t mean it will definitely happen there, but it’s clear that Kauffman Stadium’s days are numbered. What a shame. It’s a perfect place for baseball, and while I’m sure the new stadium will attempt to replicate its charms, I’m equally sure it will fail in this endeavor.
At least I had this perfect day. The Royals won, and I got a little sunburn on my neck, but it was nothing a cold beer couldn’t help with. All in all, it was a great day at the ballpark, the kind I don’t get too often in Queens. Kauffman is one of the great ballparks, in a city that has quickly become one of my favorites in America. I met great people all over town, ate some terrific food, and spent a memorable morning at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art (which, by the way, is free) and Rainy Day Books. I’m already scheming a way to get back to Kansas City this fall. If they make the playoffs, it’s gonna be nuts there. The Royals will never be my favorite team, but maybe being my second favorite team is even better.
You won't ever forget this summer of your dreams. How I envy you - doing what you love....
My favorite museum in the world!