I’ve had a soft spot in my (cold, black, decaying) heart for Kyle Kendrick since the prank of him getting traded to Japan hit the Web. That was rough. (It was also awesome, pretty awesome.)

But this, well, this just takes it to an entirely new and exciting level:

After we won Game 1 of the World Series, I texted some of my buddies, guys I grew up with back in Seattle.

“You won’t believe this, the Backstreet Boys were here,” I told ‘em.

I was standing on the third-base line at Tropicana Field with my teammates when they sang the national anthem. It was pretty exciting for me.

I’m only 24, and as a kid growing up near Seattle, boy bands were popular. I always thought the Backstreet Boys were the best out there, better than ‘NSYNC. I was a freshman in high school when they came out with their big CD, and my buddies and I used to listen. The girls always thought they were cute and I liked their music. They were just good.

Years later, my musical tastes have expanded. I like some classic rock and a lot of country. I’m a big George Strait fan and I really like Carrie Underwood.

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