The lightning is escaping the bottle

Time’s is tough.

At the end of last year’s horrible season, if a person from the future had arrived and told me that on September 23, 2024, the Royals would be 82-74 with a one game lead in the Wild Card standings and only six games to go, and nothing else at all about how the season played out, I would’ve been ecstatic.

Now, though, having lived through this grueling month, this most cruel of months (T.S. Eliot got it wrong), I am the opposite of ecstatic.

I am not static.

I am racked with worry.

I have concerns.

Will the Royals offense ever score another run? Will the Royals win another game this season? Will the Royals hold off the Twins and the Mariners?

Will the past 156 games be for naught?

Is this a blip? Is this a flash in the pan? Is this the start of something good?

Is this 2003?

It this 2013?

Is this 2015?

Is 2024 its own kind of twisted animal that can’t be pinpointed?

Am I overreacting?

Am I underacting?

Am I acting?

The Royals front office went out this past offseason and spent a lot of good money to transform a 106-loss team. It went better than expected. Bobby Witt Jr., signed to an extension, blossomed. Seth Lugo and Michael Wacha, starting pitchers signed away from the San Diego Padres, excelled. Vinny Pasquantino drove in scores of runs. Salvador Perez seemingly turned back the clock. Brady Singer improved. Cole Ragans aced. The bullpen did just enough. Matt Quatraro brought it all together.

In short, the Kansas City Royals caught lightning in a bottle.

When it came to adding more talent to the team, that’s what J.J. Picollo did: Hunter Harvey, Michael Lorenzen, Paul DeJong, Lucas Erceg, Yuli Gurriel, Tommy Pham, Robbie Grossman.

Lightning in a bottle: retained.

But, seemingly since Pasquantino’s injury, when the Royals were oh-so-close to catching up with the Guardians at the top of the American League Central, the lid has come loose. The magic is fading. The Royals are tiring. The runs are going extinct. The losses are piling up. The vibes are getting negative.

The lightning is escaping from the bottle.

Six games remain after Monday’s respite: three in Da Capital against the Nationals, three in Atlanta versus the Braves.

Where will this team be in a week? Heading to Houston to take on the Astros? Heading to Baltimore to face the Orioles? Or heading in 25-plus different directions as heads hang in utter disbelief, utter shock, utter disappointment that such a golden opportunity slipped away, that a secured cap on the bottle slipped open, letting out all of the accrued lightning from the first five months of the season?

I don’t know. I don’t know the answer to any of the aforementioned eighteen questions I’ve posed so far in less than 500 words. Anything is possible now: good or bad or right smack dab in the middle. It’s black, it’s white, it’s grey, it’s the entire color prism—I would be more shocked tomorrow night if the Royals won 1-0 than lost 19-2.

Thankfully, I am only a fan. It’s not up to me to figure out how to staunch the flow of lightning, how to fix an anemic offense, how to get on base, how to get the runner over, the run home, the line moving, whether to take the close pitch that looks outside, but damn, there are already two strikes, it’s too close to take, how to infuse the club with confidence without the benefit of adding external pieces—external pieces this team so desperately needs.

Missing the playoffs would be horrible for this team. It would be horrible to come all of this way just to be sidelined due to a wretched losing streak with two weeks left in the season. It’s happened before, of course, but, and maybe I’m wrong, never this close to home. This is the type of thing that happens to other teams. Not the Royals, who have only made the playoffs three times since 1985, reaching the World Series all three of those times, but have spent the rest of those years, those 39 years, essentially wandering the wilderness of the cellar of the standings.

The lightning is escaping.

Time’s running out to stop it.

The Royals need to dig deep. This opportunity, to reach the playoffs, even expanded, doesn’t always come along. Next year is no guarantee.

There’s only now.