Twelve years ago this month, the hottest general manager prospect in baseball took a dead-end job that some of his closest friends begged him to run away from.
You know the basics by now, but a one-sentence refresher:
The Royals' big-league team was old, in cruise control toward 100 losses, the farm system was bereft of talent, and the general mood and club self-esteem could best be summed up by a then-recent refusal to take a team picture because who would want photographic proof of being part of such a dump?
Dayton Moore helped turn that dead-end job into two pennants and a parade, so those close friends are no longer chirping.