Magic is real, ladies and gentlemen, and I am here to tell you that we know this because of a special group of magicians named the Kansas City Royals.

I have been a Kansas City sports fan for my entire life. I was born and raised in Kansas City. I believe Oklahoma Joe’s is a gift from God himself. I think our fountains are actually the 8th wonder of the world. I use Dick Vermeil as the standard by which all other coaches should be judged. And I am a Royals fan.

I was negative 7 years old when the Royals last went to the playoffs, played for the pennant, and won the World Series. Today, I’m 22 years old, and the Royals, my beloved boys in blue, are one win away from the World Series.

The elusive World Series that I have only witnessed, most unfortunately, through the eyes of our lucky counterpart across the state. The World Series we’ve all joked will never come. The World Series that is sweeter than all the other World Series, because Royals fans, and Royals fans alone, know what it feels like to finally break the impossible and turn it not just into the possible – but the probable.

We are one win away.

But really, in the scheme of things, this doesn’t matter anymore. How we finish, where we finish, who we finish, none of this matters any more, because what this team has brought to Kansas City and its people has been accomplished no matter how this movie – this has gotta be a movie, right? – will end.

It will end in magic.

Magic is the only logical explanation for what is happening right now. Magic is the only explanation for why the Royals managed to battle back from 3-7 in the bottom of the 8th and take the A’s to 12 innings, where Salvy, Instagram-trolling, no-hits-yet-on-the-night Salvy saved the day and Kansas City’s playoffs hopes. Magic is the only explanation for how the Royals, the team with the lowest number of HRs ever to make the playoffs, continue to hit bomb after bomb right when the situation demands it.

And if you won’t take my word on any of the above, then maybe Billy Butler stealing second base and scoring from first not once, BUT TWICE, in the series against the Angels will convince you: magic is real.

Magic is so real and it has finally descended upon the beautiful city of Kansas City.

Now, this magic is not regular magic. It’s not a series of hijinks and lucky breaks and bloopers that JUST MANAGE to fall between all the available outfielders. This magic comes from every single player on the Kansas City roster. This magic comes from – yes, even him – manager Ned Yost. This magic comes from a city and its people elated to finally be propelled not just into national sports stardom, but into national sports legends.

Every player on this team has brought some magic to this playoff run. Four players have hit home runs. Lorenzo Cain and Alex Gordon are super-humans designed to make the most improbable of catches. Jarrod Dyson and Terrance Gore are so doggone fast that they casually hang out on their stolen base before the ball even hits the glove of their baseman. Our bullpen is legendary. Salvador Perez is consistently bopped on the head while diligently continuing his campaign to be the best catcher in the game. I could go on. This is a team made of individual superstars, finally ready to shine on a national stage as one together.

And the fans. Man, these fans. The fans who clung to Mike Moustakas’ legs to save him from imminent concussion after his diving catch into the dugout stands. The fan who adopted a new puppy out of this deal. The fans at City Council who changed “Baltimore Ave.” to “Royals Ave.” The fans who designed “That’s What Speed Do” shirts, with the proceeds going to RBI, a Boys & Girls Club program that brings baseball to inner-city kids. The fans who have waited so long to see something magical and have gotten far more than we ever expected to receive.

This October, I have become a firm believer in magic. The kind of magic that only a sports team can revive in a city ready to celebrate. The kind of magic that brings tears to my eyes when I see a team I have both cried for and cheered for achieve something we never thought was possible. The kind of magic that makes me feel like I’m at home, even when I’m miles away.

This is the kind of magic we’ve been waiting for. This is the kind of magic that makes us champions.

To the Royals and to Kansas City, I love you, and I will never be able to thank you enough. No matter how this ends, I’ve seen the magic, and I believe.