As a content creator for payoffsong.com, and admittedly, not the biggest fan of modern country music, particularly the kind that often blurs into pop satire, I find myself in a surprising position. While artists like Chris Stapleton resonate with me, the idea of attending a Garth Brooks concert previously held little appeal. Yet, despite my lukewarm feelings towards his genre and personal taste, I stand firmly behind a singular, stadium-sized sentiment: it’s time to bring back “Friends in Low Places” for the Kansas City Royals’ sixth inning.
This isn’t a plea from a die-hard country fan. It’s an observation from someone who, even with a personal aversion to the song, recognizes its undeniable power and the void left by its absence. Since Royals fans voted to retire the song from its Crown Vision slot in 2014, the sixth inning at Kauffman Stadium has become a soundtrack of forgettable mediocrity. While some chosen tunes, like “Don’t Stop Believing,” are classics in their own right, they lack the crucial element that “Friends in Low Places” possessed: genuine fan engagement and a unique stadium atmosphere. Has anyone ever witnessed a spontaneous outburst of collective joy during John Fogerty’s “Centerfield”? Exactly.
But the energy shifted palpably when Garth Brooks’ anthem filled the stadium during the sixth. Those who experienced it remember the collective embrace, the swaying crowd, the unified voices belting out the lyrics, perhaps fueled by the shared experience of another challenging game on the field. It was a moment of communal catharsis, a uniquely Royals tradition.
Admittedly, the initial vote to remove “Friends in Low Places” reflected a widespread sentiment, even shared by myself at the time. Many, myself included, failed to grasp its purpose, dismissing it as perhaps unfitting, especially when the Royals’ performance mirrored the song’s title – a team seemingly in “low places.” We missed the point entirely. The sixth inning song isn’t about baseball prowess or direct team inspiration. It’s about something far more enduring: fostering community and building tradition.
Think of “Sweet Caroline” in Boston. It wasn’t always a Fenway Park staple, but organically, it became an anthem, a beloved – and sometimes begrudgingly accepted – part of the Red Sox experience. Following the Boston Marathon bombing in 2013, the song transcended mere entertainment, becoming a symbol of resilience and unity for a city in mourning. Neil Diamond himself traveled to Boston to perform it, and sales surged, underscoring its cultural significance.
Just as “Sweet Caroline” has its detractors, “Friends in Low Places” wasn’t universally adored. Some wanted it gone, replaced, banished – a sentiment echoing the initial Royals fan vote. However, both songs share a crucial characteristic: they evoke strong emotions and create a shared experience.
Garth Brooks, despite not being a Kansas City native, has forged a genuine connection with the Royals and the city. This relationship stretches back to 2004 Spring Training and has deepened over the years. He filmed the iconic sixth-inning video in 2008, contributed to the Urban Youth Academy in 2017, and even invited Royals players on stage during a Kansas City concert performance of “Friends in Low Places” in the same year. This isn’t just a random song; it’s a song with history, intertwined with the Royals narrative.
One could argue that a specific song for a sports game inning is unnecessary. Perhaps. But that argument misses the point about sports as entertainment and community building. “Friends in Low Places” in the sixth inning was unique entertainment, a tradition that resonated, critics and all. Traditions aren’t manufactured; they evolve organically. It’s time to #BringBackGarth and revive a genuine Kansas City Royals tradition that, even for a non-country fan like myself, is clearly missed. Let’s bring back the roar.
