Talon Spotlight: DeRoo

Laugh it up. The joke is on the Royals and it has been running since the current president's father was in office. In the barbershop they're brooding over the coaching carousel.

"That thing spins faster than Greinke's head after a 2 -0 fastball."

In the barbecue joint downtown they're debating the merits of a former closer's argument for joining the rotation.

"Look at the bright side, now he'll get hurt every fifth day instead of every other."

Even a bright spot turns sour on the 14th green.

"DeJesus is really turning into a solid player. Any club would love to have him in their outfield."

"You're right, which is why it won't be long before another team has him. He'll get traded in an effort to keep Sweeney, who will promptly play 90 games a season to justify the move."

John DeRoo hears the jokes every day. He's a native of Kansas City, and a loyal Royals fan since August 23, 1990, when he attended a doubleheader at Kaufmann Stadium at age five. He remembers a victory over the Orioles and a Mike McFarlane home run that would forge a lifetime bond as it cascaded towards I-70.

His desire to root for the hometown team has warped into a love that is all but obsessive. Countless lazy summer days and nights strengthened the bond, but the scorecards and media guides struck a chord that would define much of John's loyalty.

"It really took off in high school," DeRoo explains, "I used to listen to games and mark on my chalkboard. I noted player averages, what publications thought of a player, and tracked progression."

It's really a bit more intricate than that. He marked milestones, memorized all time Royal statistical leaders, season leaders, all stars, and much more. He considers his specialty knowing the details of every world series since 1979. Do you know the Royals' single season home run record holder? John does.

"The number is 36, and it was set by Steve Balboni in 1985."

What about the 1990 opening day starter?

"Brett Saberhagen, a loss to the Orioles by one run. Two years before that was the George Bell game (referring to a loss in which Bell hit three home runs), Saberhagen started that one, too."

His love for the Royals and baseball eventually led him to an internship at Metro Sports, the Kansas City sports cable network. It was there that his knowledge gained a little more notoriety.

"We would spend hours throwing Royals trivia at John, and he got 99% of them right. He knows everything from the leadoff hitter in 1992 to the hitting coach of the Double A Wranglers," Matt Schmidt, a coworker at Metro Sports, says.

DeRoo's statistical efficiency and good-natured attitude spurred reporter Mick Shaffer to produce a feature piece on John and all his knowledge. The piece was so successful that Fox Sports Midwest picked it up and ran it. Shaffer says DeRoo earned the spotlight.

"John DeRoo has more passion than maybe anybody I've ever seen in this business," Shaffer says, "He's obviously an encyclopedia of sports knowledge and that's always fun testing him and bouncing trivia questions off him. But the best part of having John in the newsroom is his enthusiasm and attitude and passion."

One particular Royals loss displayed John's passion for all the workers at Metro Sports to see. On August 9th last season, the Royals blew a 7-1 lead to the Cleveland Indians. But that's not the whole story. They gave up 11 runs in the ninth inning. This also happened in the middle of one of the longest losing streaks in baseball history.

"I have never seen someone go from happiness to absolute depression so fast. After the game he was so [upset] he told everyone to not talk to him," Schmidt says.

DeRoo explains why the loss hit home.

"I take a lot of pride in how they play and I get really [angry] when they don't play well."

In a world where his favorite team lets him down, the statistics have been his saving grace.

"I don't know everything, and I'll be the first to admit it," DeRoo says.

There are probably a lot of Royals fans that would argue John knows more about the Royals than the man who holds the job John dreams of holding: Allard Baird. John is too modest to ever agree with such speculation.

"To be the general manager would definitely be a dream come true," he says.

It's in this moment when the fruition of his ideas come to life in his imaginary position. His eyes dance and he becomes more animated with each sentence. When he returns from his imaginary office and realizes the time that's gone by, he talks about what it would mean to him to have any position in the Royals organization.

"It would mean a lot, and that they felt confident enough in me to do the job and be accepted."

Maybe if the Royals knew about a guy like John, the organization could make a positive turn toward success by corralling his passion and putting it to work. Just then, a voice chimes in from a bar in Westport.

"They'd have to know how to spot talent first!"

Laugh it up Kansas City. John doesn't think it's funny. If he had any say in the matter, you wouldn't either.