Wholesale change got the ball rolling
Back before anyone ever saw David Glass’ hair doused in Champagne, one of the richest, most quantifiably successful businessmen in modern American history had to admit he didn’t know what he was doing
He had to recognize that for all the money he made for himself and others running Walmart, more people knew him as the owner of the bumbling baseball team in Kansas City. Had to realize that before he could stand in front of a national television audience and dedicate the American League championship trophy to Royals fans, he had to give up control.
The Royals have gone from a joke of a franchise to the World Series in eight years, the absolute best thing in sports right now. To make this journey, Glass had to accept that his leadership pushed the Royals into becoming a punch line. He would need help pushing them back to the top.
Glass has always wanted to win, and Royals fans have always rolled their eyes when they hear that. But there’s an enormous difference between wanting something and knowing how to do it. There’s an even bigger difference between knowing how to do it and being willing to do it.
“We had to change the whole thing,” Glass says now. “We had to get a fresh start.”
Who can say why a man pledges complete. change? Who can say what, exactly, pushes a successful man to admit he’s out of answers? That the fans who root for his team and curse his leadership might have a point?
Glass’ breaking point came in 2006. The year before, the team was so bad that Mark Teahen hoped the other team’s pitcher was hung over. Maybe that way they could win. Mike Sweeney remembers the general manager saying that improving the team felt like shopping without a credit card. Friends have said Glass was embarrassed by all the losing. He’s conceded that he was tired.
So whatever the reasons — was it the 19-game losing streak? Employees hiding their ID badges when going out to lunch? George Brett telling friends he didn’t really work for the team anymore? — Glass got on a plane.
After he fired his general manager, Glass went to see Dayton Moore in Atlanta, because that’s who people kept telling Glass he needed to hire. He made an appointment, shook Moore’s hand and asked for help. Moore told Glass about a plan. Virtually everything about the Royals, from big-league payroll to rookie-league instruction, would have to change. It wouldn’t be easy, wouldn’t be quick and wouldn’t be cheap.
Glass listened. Took notes. Nodded his head. He was sold. That was the summer of 2006, when Glass turned around how he ran the Royals, becoming a model small-market owner, and when this week — the World Series starting in Kan- sas City on Tuesday — became possible.
“I always had the commitment,” Glass says. “Until we got Dayton on board, we didn’t really have the organization that could carry it out.”
Saying they had to change everything is an exaggeration in technical terms only. Losing for so long meant a fading pride, so right away Moore named organizational awards and spring training fields after former stars. All minor-leaguers were required to take what amounted to a Royals history class, to learn about Brett and Frank White and Dan Quisenberry and a proud past.
The Royals were doing things they only talked about doing before, and Moore was able to ask for things that his predecessors only dreamed of. A new minor-league team. New facilities in Latin America and beyond. An enormous increase in staffing, with the money and freedom to hire scouts and executives with World Series championships on their resumes.
They drafted Mike Moustakas, then Eric Hosmer in the first round. Spent first-round money later in the draft on Wil Myers. Signed Salvador Perez, Yordano Ventura and Kelvin Herrera through an international program that had previously been all but dead. They found Greg Holland in the 10th round, moved Alex Gordon to left field and got Alcides Escobar and Lorenzo Cain in a trade made without much leverage. They hired Ned Yost as manager to fill the players with confidence as much as instruction.
Even with his hair drenched in Champagne, Glass usually talks about patience and the pride he has in Moore and Yost. That cosmetic consistency has made it easy for fans to miss the important change. Eight years ago, Glass had to admit he didn’t know what he was doing. He had to hire someone who did.
That’s the only way the Royals could go from baseball’s worst team to four wins from being its best.