I missed the opportunity last week to see the Royals play the A’s in Oakland. Seeing a game in the Coliseum has long been a desire of mine.
Yes, I’ve heard it is a lousy stadium and yes, it is in Oakland, which is not exactly the garden spot of bay area. In reality, those are two of the reasons I was so keen on seeing a game there, because as a Kansas City sports fan, so much of our teams’ histories are intertwined with Oakland.
I have never been to Oakland, but I have hated the city most of my life. First, there is the rivalry between the Raiders and Chiefs. While I was just learning the game of football after the Chiefs came to town in my youth, I only remember three other professional football teams: the Chargers, the Broncos and the Raiders. In the early days, the Chargers and Broncos were nothing to fear, but the Raiders’ game, that was a whole different story. While I didn’t know a lot, I knew I hated the Raiders.
Maybe some of the most memorable moments in the team’s history took place during the rivalry. In 1970, Raider defensive lineman Ben Davidson speared Chiefs QB Len Dawson after Dawson had scrambled for a first down, seemingly sealing a victory. However, Davidson’s cheap shot invoked a retaliatory hit by Otis Taylor and the whole play was canceled by offsetting penalties. The result was the Chiefs then failed to make a first down, and Oakland scored in the final minute to win the game.
John Madden roamed the sidelines of the Coliseum. I got to where I enjoyed him somewhat as an announcer, but as a coach he was the antithesis of sportsmanship and integrity. I don’t know, maybe he wasn’t, but that’s how he appeared to a young Chiefs’ fan.
But as much as I hated the Raiders, I hated the city of Oakland more because they stole my baseball team. As a youngster, I loved the A’s. There were only 16 or 20 games per year on TV, in black and white, but when they were on, I watched.
I learned the love of baseball from my mother and two brothers. And like them, I was a homer. It was my team all the way, they never really got beat, they just didn’t have enough runs at the end of the game. There was never a controversial call that went our way, it was either clearly us in the right or the umpires were wrong. For my formative years I had the A’s, and for the record, they were bad, as in really bad. But I didn’t care.
But then following the 1967 season, they moved to Oakland. All of my heroes: Dick Green, Campy Campaneris, Danny Cater, Sal Bando and Catfish Hunter were suddenly gone. Now my heroes were my vile enemies. I know it was Charlie Finley who made the move, not them, but their departure seemed like a personal affront to me.
The shame in the whole deal was Oakland really has never seemed to care about the A’s and once they left Kansas City, they became a powerhouse. One can only imagine what kind of crowds and what kind of energy would have been possible had the A’s glory days have been in KC.
Of course, then we got the Royals and almost immediately, a rivalry formed between the forces of evil in Oakland and powers of good in KC. In fact, it was Oakland the Royals had to finally overcome to win their first division crown and make it to the postseason.
With all of those memories in my mind, I really wanted to go to Oakland last week. I wanted to see the “dump of a stadium,” those evil people who hung out in the stands pretending to be baseball fans. I wanted to experience the hate firsthand.
I was drawn to the schedule last week for two reasons: one the Royals were there, but ironically, the day after they left, the A’s were hosting the Minnesota Twins and part of their promotional efforts was a Satchel Paige bobblehead, one where he is sitting in a rocking chair wearing the green and gold of the Kansas City A’s.
I remember the year Finley signed Paige. The old “Negro Leagues” star had a rocking chair next to the A’s bullpen down the rightfield line in Municipal Stadium. It was one of Finley’s many gimmicks, but in reality, it drew attention to a mostly ignored or underappreciated element of KC sports history, the Monarchs. Nowadays the Negro Leagues have earned their recognition, but in 1966, you didn’t hear nearly as much about it.
So, I really wanted to see the Coliseum and I wanted to see the Royals win in Oakland. But, to be honest, I wanted that bobblehead: not just because I have a bobblehead collection, but because it represented something significant to me.
It represented the days that the A’s were my team. It represented the why and how I fell in love with the game. It reminded me of how much I once loved this team and how much I hated them when they were gone. And if I was to catch the A’s in Oakland, it had to be this year, because they are moving to a Triple-A ballpark in Sacramento next year while a new high-dollar stadium complex is being built in Las Vegas.
There, they will join the Raiders and suddenly most of what there is to hate in Oakland is gone. And while I still might hate the Raiders, I must admit I am much less fervent in my hatred in Las Vegas, because they aren’t the Oakland Raiders, the team we hated. And now the A’s will move on and they will mostly be just another team on the Royals schedule. Taking the Oakland out of their name kind of erases my anger over their moving.
And, as much as I hate to admit it, I was kind of expecting to go meet some A’s fans, who are now feeling the same kind of betrayal I felt nearly 60 years ago as the team they love already has its bags packed and plans made in a new city. I really wanted to feel all that, but travel arrangements can be fickle, and I didn’t make it to Oakland and I doubt I ever get another chance to see a game there. So instead of sharing pity with the handful of A’s loyalists, I will simply have my mind’s eye of a stadium and some teams which deserve eternal damnation.