Dear Zack,

I heard someone talking about you today. My ears immediately pricked up when I heard your name, a name I haven’t heard in at least 6 years. A name I haven’t uttered since you left me heart broken. I still have your jersey, number 23, hanging in my closet. I took it out and wore it last year to prove that I was over you. And I am. But I hear your name and everything comes flooding back.

It’s a warm May afternoon, the sun glinting off of the crown on top of the Kauffman Stadium jumbotron, the smell of fresh popcorn wavers in the air, my friend next to me excitedly fidgets in her seat. And then we hear it. Your name.

Starting pitcher, Zaaaaaaaaack Greiiiinnnnkeee!

We stand up and scream our support for you, and then settle down to watch you pitch yet another stellar game.

Those were the golden days for us, if not the Royals. You were a starting pitcher for Kansas City, and I was your biggest fan. Your Sports Illustrated cover proclaiming BEST PITCHER IN BASEBALL hung proudly in my locker at school. I was at every game I could possibly convince my parents to take me to, just to cheer you on. It all seemed perfect: the best and most gorgeous pitcher in the majors playing with my hometown team. Despite your supermodel girlfriend (now wife) and 12 year age difference, I was determined we would one day fall in love.

Like all young love, it comes to a bitter end once the glory days of summer fade into fall. It was December. You were traded to the Milwaukee Brewers. I was crushed. How could the team do this?

And then my young, almost twelve-year-old heart took the hardest blow to date: the news reported that you said you wanted to be traded, to be on a team with a chance to win.

I thought it was the end of the world.

Little did I know, all the self help gurus had it right. Our breakup was “for the best”.

While you went off to Milwaukee (later to be traded to the Los Angeles Angels and eventually the Dodgers), two relatively unknown players (at the time)  made their way to Kansas City:

Shortstop Alcides Escobar and center-fielder Lorenzo Cain. Along with the future ALCS MVPs came pitcher Jake Odorizzi. A few years later, Odorizzi was part of the trade to the Tampa Bay Rays that brought All Star closer Wade Davis to Kansas City.

So really Zack, I guess what I should be saying is thank you.

Thanks for breaking my heart. Thanks for focusing solely on the money and not recognizing the strong foundation for a championship team growing in Kansas City. Thanks for making way for three instrumental players who were key in bringing home the 2015 World Series title to Kansas City.

I saw you pitching the other day,  in game five of the NLCS. Your L.A. Dodgers lost to the New York Mets, losing the pennant and a shot at facing the Royals in the World Series. I watched you walk off the field, head down.

It’s kind of sad, really. You’ve got your Cy Young Award, your Golden Glove, even a couple MVP voted. But there’s one thing you don’t have, and may never have: a World Series Championship.

Thanks for Escobar, Cain, and by extension, Davis. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for the heartbreak. Because I wouldn’t trade the feeling of a World Series victory for you back any day. You’re a free agent now, but don’t bother coming back to the team that was never good enough for you.

*Note: since this column was written, Greinke has signed a six year contract with the Arizona Diamondbacks