Dear Fans: I suck. Sincerely, David Glass

Dear Fans:

This letter to you is long overdue. I’ve been in charge of the Royals for almost 15 years. There hasn’t been a lot to cheer about in that time. A once-proud organization has become a source of nearly constant frustration and disappointment.

My name is at the top of the club directory, so I need to take responsibility for the team’s almost comical lack of success. I am sorry, and I pledge to make some changes.

What prompted this soul-searching? Maybe you heard our general manager, Dayton Moore, talking with Soren Petro on WHB 810 the other day. At one point, Dayton described our organization’s dismal efforts in acquiring foreign-born players. Dayton said that from 1996 to 2006, the Royals were dead last in terms of resources spent in Latin America. “That is changing,” Dayton said.

Latin America is, of course, rich with talented baseball players. Latin America was also the responsibility of my son Dan, who worked in player personnel before he became club president. In his team bio, my son takes “credit” for the coordination and development of the Royals’ Latin American program.

As Dayton suggested, this endeavor was a joke. Look at our rosters. The Cleveland Indians found two-time All-Star Victor Martinez in Venezuela; we came out with Andres Blanco.

On the same day that Dayton told such a painful truth on the radio, the Royals lost their 12th game in a row. A losing season is all but guaranteed — and in keeping with recent tradition. Since I became the team’s chief executive in 1993, the Royals have fielded just one team that finished with a winning record.

Dayton, meanwhile, has made several good moves. He swiped the magnificent Joakim Soria from San Diego. But fixing the franchise will take time. After all, I gave real management duties to my son, who worked in the jewelry business before I brought him out to Kauffman Stadium.

Saying you’re sorry is never easy. But I’m going to try to make some amends.

First, the Royals will no longer be a Glass family project. Dan will no longer serve as the team’s president. I am also removing my wife, Ruth, and children Don and Dayna from the board of directors. I love my family, but it has become obvious that this corporate structure does not work and hurts our credibility.

Second, I’m going to stop whining about Kansas City being unable to compete with teams in bigger cites. I realize now that this was an excuse, one I wouldn’t have tolerated while building Wal-Mart into a company that produces billions in wealth for its shareholders.

Minnesota and Oakland play in junky stadiums, and they find ways to win more than they lose. Heck, the Tampa Bay Rays are hanging around first place. It can be done!

Baseball economics may not allow us to build a dynasty in Kansas City. I can’t put up $51 million just for the rights to negotiate with a Japanese pitcher. But there’s no reason that we can’t grab a division title from time to time. With a little luck, we might get back to a World Series.

I’m also going to stop lying.

I’ve forcefully denied that my son and I have interfered in the baseball side of things by rejecting trades and the like. But I wasn’t telling the truth. For instance, we walked away from several opportunities to trade the expensive and often-hobbled Mike Sweeney. Sports Illustrated baseball writer Tom Verducci, who will go into the Baseball Hall of Fame someday, has reported that there was a time when we could have dealt Sweeney for Toronto outfielder Alex Rios. Wow, Rios hit 27 home runs last year!

We meddled because we lacked courage. Things had gone so badly around here that we were afraid to part with affable white players such as Sweeney and Joe Randa. Sweeney is a wonderful human being, but my refusal to let him go damaged the future of the ball club.

I’m also going to stop moaning about the team’s financial position. I’ve claimed, for instance, that I’ve lost $27 million since purchasing the team in 2000. Chances are, I pulled that number out of thin air. Mark Gorris, the team’s former vice president for business operations, let it slip in 2006 that we had eked out a small profit each year, on average. Whoops!

Finally, I promise to continue to try to improve public relations.

PR has never been a skill of mine. When I was at Wal-Mart, we ran a “Buy American” campaign. Trouble was, children in Southeast Asia made some of the clothes that we sold. Confronted with the evidence by Dateline NBC, I looked like a buffoon.

The stakes were lower, but a similar thing happened in 2006 when we introduced Dayton. Because the people in the front office didn’t know how to choreograph a press conference, I got hammered with all these questions about the shabby treatment of Dayton’s predecessor, Allard Baird. It got me so mad, I revoked the credentials of two radio reporters. Thus began another round of bad publicity. Oy!

Anyway, I’d like to take a moment to express my gratitude to Allard. Convinced that I could run a pro sports team like a Wal-Mart in Gobbler’s Knob, Arkansas, I refused to give him the resources he needed, like scouts and money for signing bonuses. Allard tried to make up the difference by sheer effort — he was always flying somewhere because I wouldn’t pay for the extra sets of eyes he needed. God, it probably took 10 years off the man’s life, and the on-field product suffered.

Alas, I can’t wave a magic wand. Just as Wal-Mart isn’t going to become a model corporate citizen overnight, the Royals are going to struggle to win until we can rebuild the player development system that went to waste under my watch.

Here’s what I can do.

Ticket prices will not increase until we finish .500 or better. If this means prices have to hold at current levels even after the renovation of Kauffman Stadium is complete, well, so be it.

Royals fans won’t pay additional money for concessions or parking, either. Really, this won’t hurt a bit as long as parking at the K costs $9 — one of the reasons I didn’t want a downtown ballpark.

Again, fans, I’m sorry the Royals squandered your adoration and your money. I’m sorry that I acted like an imperious creep all these years. You can take the man out of Wal-Mart, but it’s hard to take Wal-Mart out of the man, I guess.

Now I’m going to find a jewelry store for my boy to run.

Go, Royals,

David D. Glass