On legacy of the fired Dayton Moore, who ‘resurrected’ KC Royals and made us all better

Moments into abruptly telling Dayton Moore on Tuesday that he was being fired after 16 years as the most visible and influential club official of the Kansas City Royals, chairman and CEO John Sherman was struck by Moore’s understanding of, even apparent agreement with, the momentous decision.

Perhaps he was all the more amazed that Moore also wanted to speak at the announcement of his demise on Wednesday — an appearance Sherman called “remarkable” after Moore somehow alchemized one of the hardest moments of his life into one of his finest.

“So much gratitude and appreciation for you,” Moore began, turning toward Sherman and noting his leadership and friendship before later calling him “a great owner” who’s “going to do wonderful things for this city.”

Then Moore vouched for his protege and successor, J.J. Picollo, and expressed his excitement about the future of the Royals … even from what will now be a distance.

“In baseball, when you don’t win enough games, change sometimes is required,” Moore said. “It’s a part of it, and we know that and we accept that. … Proud to be called a Royal and just thankful for my time here in Kansas City. So we’ll see you down the road.”

Then Moore went into the clubhouse and broke down, he later told The Star, before shaking the hands of everyone in a roomful of anguished players and staff.

As he drove away from the stadium on what was suddenly his last day of work for the Royals, he stopped to speak with attendants at the parking booths on the way out.

Really, it shouldn’t be a surprise that this man of uncanny honor and grace summoned all that and set an example even in the throes of agony. That included seeing veteran star catcher Salvador Perez as he came into the media room and having “lost it,” Moore later said.

But what Moore had to say on Wednesday, before the media and in conversations with The Star, aren’t just color points.

They’re the very essence and signature of Moore, whose departure, infielder Nicky Lopez said, meant “a piece of us left today.”

A piece of Kansas City who one day should be inducted into the Royals Hall of Fame … or what’s a Hall of Fame for?

A piece Sherman acknowledged had once “resurrected” the franchise, guiding it to back-to-back American League championships and the 2015 World Series championship, before presiding over another rebuild that Sherman considered to be regressing and in need of the change that he is putting in the capable hands of Picollo (of whom we are a big fan).

Moore “was the right guy at the right time” for overhauling a franchise in distress in 2006, Sherman said, before adding that he believes Picollo is the right person now. While those of us who admire Moore can easily see the case for allowing him to finish what he called the “heavy lifting” after cultivating a promising young nucleus of position players (but a still-iffy pitching forecast), it’s hard not to accept Sherman’s reasoning.

But that doesn’t mean this day wasn’t also sad and even hollow when it came to the end of an era of Moore.

The epitaph of this chapter of his life, and surely beyond, will always be underscored by those two magical seasons but also something much larger than baseball.

Because Moore approached the game with both an abiding love of the sport itself but also a deep and broad understanding of the vehicle it could be for the greater good — whether to galvanize a community on the field or through service and engagement off the field, such as via the Urban Youth Academy that started with his vision.

Rare is the person in his position who thinks it’s important to convey empathy at prisons, as he has often and I was fortunate to witness in 2018 at the Ellsworth Correctional Facility in Kansas.

Rarer yet is the person of his stature who in time of tragedy has the instinct and desire to comfort the grief-stricken: Two days after the shocking death of Yordano Ventura in 2017, I watched Moore standing a few feet away with Ventura’s family in the Dominican Republic as he took their hands and told them it was his honor to mourn with them.

The entire scene in the Dominican was surreal and intimately piercing, but Moore thought it was important to allow The Star to embed with the Royals in Ventura’s homeland as a way to connect and help heal Kansas City.

For that matter, he had a certain impact on just about anyone he encountered. From fans to audiences to staff to, of course, the players:

A somber Perez said he loved Moore like a father, noting Moore’s good faith in renegotiating his contract when he didn’t have to.

“There’s a life outside of baseball, and he actually truly cared about the person first and then (the) player second,” Lopez said. “Which not many people who are running an organization go about their business that way.”

In fact, you could tally by the dozens the number of players Moore stood by who prospered by it, from Alex Gordon to Danny Duffy to Mike Moustakas and many more.

Indeed, that was Moore’s hallmark, including in the form of believing so much in the 2014 and 2015 teams that the Royals went all-in to make trades to support the core group in what became an unforgettable run.

But being an idealist in a small-market setting boomeranged on him at times.

That was particularly so with his hopes of extending the window of contention in 2016 and 2017 — when cold logic said that trades were in order for a host of players with contracts coming due for a team that couldn’t afford to keep everybody.

Another approach might have reaped more consistent competitiveness.

But another approach may not have led to two World Series appearances, either.

In speaking with The Star on Wednesday, Moore reflected on why he was inclined to “stick with players longer than certain people would want me to or what the industry feels is necessary.”

Because at heart, he’s still the guy who got into this to coach.

“It’s the coach in me and the teacher in me,” he said. “That’s just kind of who I was … and am. That’s what I’ll end up doing (now) probably.”

It bears mention that Moore in 2017 could have become general manager in Atlanta, where he ascended in the game before taking over with the Royals in 2006. A second rebuild here, he knew, would be a formidable task.

He simply felt it would be wrong to leave in the middle of that.

While Moore told The Star he would “rather die than quit” at a job such as this and expressed his sadness and disappointment, he also conveyed perspective about the realities of competitive sports.

He talked about how all the ups and downs of the last 16 years reflected “the beauty of sports” and how the triumphs and trials strengthened relationships. He talked about the comfort that comes with knowing you put your heart and soul into something, including seeing it all come to fruition in ways few ever experience in 2014 and 2015.

“It’s part of the game, and we did the best we could,” he said. “I’m at peace with it. For right now. My heart’s not angry. It’s not bitter. It’s not anything other than, you know, I wish I’d seen it through.”

But he also could take solace in those unforgettable highlights and the trajectory of the organization under Sherman and Picollo … and in never having tried to be something he’s not.

Thankfully, he remained an original to the end, even if it left him looking to the future in an entirely new way.

And that last appearance Wednesday was apt testimony to the character that will always define him more than anything else will.

“Look, all good things come to an end,” he said. “And this hasn’t been a good thing. It’s been a great thing.”

So it’s a shame this rebuild hasn’t reaped rewards to this point. A reset now makes sense.

But as we spoke about the greater point here, Moore thought about the words of Christian musician Matthew West:

“Life becomes more fulfilling when I become a character in someone else’s story and not just the main character in my own.”

Regardless of how these last few years have gone, then, he should feel quite fulfilled.

Because Kansas City is a better place thanks to Dayton Moore, who has enhanced the lives of virtually anyone with whom he came in contact. As the architect of a truly incredible couple of seasons that should be treasured forever, yes, but well beyond.