A few weeks ago, on a quiet morning drive to the ballpark, Royals manager Ned Yost reached for his cell phone. The move was instinctive, an act of muscle memory that had yet to fade. He had, after all, been making this call for years.
He would call on a cloudless morning in Arizona. He would call on an afternoon back in Kansas City. He would call on late nights in Milwaukee, after a walk-off victory had roused the locals and the adrenalin was still pumping. Usually, his mother was still awake, too.
For years, the routine persisted, through cities and jobs, winning and losing.