In a stunning display of civic enthusiasm, Clay County Commissioner Jason Withington is engaged in a gripping tale of negotiation with the Kansas City Royals. You see, dear reader, the fate of their entire existence hangs in the balance of securing a new stadium, and the Clay County Commission has given the Royals an ultimatum—commit or be forgotten! I wonder if Royals owner John Sherman will consider this a lack of gratitude. Gee, I don't know, John. It's not like you haven't been gaslighting Clay County all along, using them as a side chick to make Jackson County jealous.
 |
| Royals Owner John Sherman |
In a riveting press release, Withington boldly announced, "Clay County continues to have great conversations with the Kansas City Royals. The county has communicated to the team that we have to have a public commitment by 1/8/2023, or they won't be on our ballot in April." Nothing says 'transparency' like tight deadlines and a sense of urgency, right? Of course, Jason has only recently come to treat the Royals with tough love. He has been a supporter of using Clay County tax dollars to fund a new Royals Stadium. One might think, "Wow, what a responsible use of taxpayer dollars!" But of course, that's just too pedestrian for the masterminds behind this brilliant scheme.
Local Northland resident Dennis, a paragon of financial wisdom, had the audacity to suggest that maybe, just maybe, the taxpayers might not be thrilled about footing the bill for a shiny new playground for the Royals. Oh, Dennis, you incorrigible party pooper! How dare you question the divine right of a baseball team to have a new stadium every couple of decades?
 |
| Commissioner Withington |
And when confronted about the audacious idea that the Royals should, God forbid, pay for their own playground, Withington fired back with the finesse of a seasoned diplomat, "I will also say that polling indicates something different than what the loudest on social media say." Because we all know that polls are the pinnacle of accuracy and can never be manipulated.
But fear not, dear readers! Withington generously allows the citizens the final say. It's like a benevolent dictator allowing his subjects to vote on whether they'd like to be ruled with an iron fist or a steel one.
And let's not forget the enlightening exchange with Dave Wood, the self-proclaimed pessimist of North Kansas City. According to Withington, Wood hasn't met a project he hasn't complained about. Bravo, Dave, for not blindly cheering on every endeavor like a mindless fanboy! Dave chimed in, asserting that any deal not 100% funded by the Royals' ownership would be a "bad deal." But, alas, Withington is here to educate the masses, insisting that naysayers like Wood just don't want to see the city grow.
When asked about the public's dissent, Withington confidently declared, "polling indicates something different than what the loudest on social media say." Because who needs to listen to the vocal majority when you can rely on the wisdom of carefully curated polls?
In an attempt to silence the critics, Withington challenged anyone to name one project in NKC that Dave Wood hasn't complained about. The challenge remains unanswered, perhaps because it's easier to find a needle in a haystack than a universally acclaimed NKC project.
So, folks, buckle up for the thrilling ride that is Clay County's attempt to secure a shiny new Royals Stadium. Because, in the words of Commissioner Withington, "you're either growing or you're dying." Who needs financial stability when you can have a sports stadium, right?
In a surprising twist, Withington even admits that North Kansas City can't build single-family homes like the rest of the Northland. How tragic! But fear not, for density is the savior. Who needs a backyard when you can have a neighbor breathing down your neck?
The pièce de résistance comes from Withington's impassioned plea to Dave Wood, "you're either growing or you're dying." Well, Clay County, strap in for the rollercoaster ride of your life because, apparently, you're on the brink of extinction.
Withington's insight into NKC's unique predicament is truly awe-inspiring. Forget single-family homes; density is the way forward. Why build quaint neighborhoods when you can stack people on top of each other like a game of human Jenga?
And in a breathtaking twist, Withington unveils the impending royal decision, which will undoubtedly shape the destiny of the Northland. Because, clearly, a sports team's relocation is the ultimate litmus test for urban development.
But wait, there's more! Withington delivers a history lesson, revealing that NKC peaked in the 1960s and is still reeling from the shock of having 1,000 fewer people. As if that weren't dire enough, he laments the loss of Cerner and Harrah’s, painting a bleak picture of a once-thriving metropolis now teetering on the edge of becoming the next ghost town.
Ever the optimist, Withington declares, "You can't hold what you have; you're either growing or you're dying." Forget about contentment or thoughtful planning; it's all about embracing a relentless pursuit of growth, no matter the cost.
As the saga unfolds, it becomes increasingly evident that Withington's mission is nothing short of saving Clay County from the perils of stagnation. Because, as he boldly declares, "when a developer brings an idea," who are we to question? After all, who needs cautious deliberation when we have the unassailable brilliance of Jason Withington leading the way?
Comments