From The Chief Editor's Desk

I don't keep it a secret. Baseball is my favorite sport. I especially enjoy watching games involving my favorite (and hometown) team, the Kansas City Royals. During baseball season, the Royals games are on my TV almost every night, win or lose.

My son, Ryan, is a member of Slugger's Blue Crew. It's a program by the Royals for children, and Slugger is the Royals team mascot. The kids get a special Slugger's Blue Crew t-shirt, baseball hat, lanyard and ID card, a watch, and all sorts of other assorted goodies. One of the "other" goodies is a voucher for two tickets to a Royals game. The above photo is of Ryan and dad, at a Royals game, cashing in that ticket voucher.

In the game of baseball, one of the loftiest and most regarded "stats" is who hits the most home runs. It's definitely a crowd pleaser to see your favorite power hitter hit the baseball over the outfield fences. But it dawned on me some time ago that this particular stat is relatively meaningless. Let me explain.

Every football field, soccer field (mostly), tennis court, rugby field, handball court, racquetball court, and (to a lesser extent) basketball court (the court size enlarges as the players get older) is the same size. However, baseball is played on a field that does not have uniform dimensions.

Sure, the bases are 90 feet apart. The pitcher's mound is 60 feet, 6 inches from home plate, elevated 10 inches higher than the plane that home plate sits on. But that is where the consistency ends. From ballpark to ballpark, the rest of the field dimensions vary, sometimes wildly. Kauffman Stadium, where the Royals play their home games, has nine feet high outfield walls, one of the most spacious outfield spaces in the major leagues, and is known as a "pitcher's ballpark" for how difficult it is to hit home runs there. Baltimore's Camden Yards is known as a "hitter's ballpark," so termed because of how easy it is to hit home runs there due to the shorter distances to the fences. Boston's Fenway Park has a short right field fence ... not just in distance, but also in height. All around the league, the dimensions of the ballpark vary.

So, every team plays half of the season's 162 games in front of their home crowd. Teams that play in a "pitcher's ballpark" aren't going to hit as many home runs as teams that play their home games in a "hitter's ballpark." The Royals may play -- at most -- six or seven games in Camden Yards during a season. Thus, the members of the Royals are almost never among the league leaders in home runs. Invariably, the league leaders in home runs are mostly from teams that play their home games in "hitter's ballparks."

Yet, still so many baseball fans put such importance on "who's the home run leader" in baseball. They never stop to consider the aspect that I just pointed out about home runs. Now, if every baseball park were built to the same dimensions, with the same distance to the outfield walls, with the same height of outfield fences, then the home run stat would actually have some merit and meaning. But until that happens, it's a stat that has little meaning. Simply put, the playing field is not even or level ... literally.

Yes, it's great to idolize the Babe Ruths and Hank Aarons of the world. They were true power hitters. No, I don't recognize the Barry Bonds, Mark McGwires, and Sammy Sosas of the sport, especially since they either admitted to or were caught using PEDs (performance enhancing drugs) to achieve their "records." Yes, I love to watch the power hitters on the Royals (Jorge Soler, Hunter Dozier, Alex Gordon, Bubba Starling, etc.) hit home runs. Little else in a baseball game matches the excitement of watching a hitter blast the baseball over the outfield fence.

I know that baseball is mostly an "American" sport, being played predominantly in North America, Central America, South America, and the Carribean. It's also very popular in Japan and Korea. But outside of those areas, baseball can at best be considered a "fringe" sport.

Still, baseball is my favorite sport.

Are you triskaidekaphobic? In case you didn't know, it's the fear of the number 13. For whatever reason, lots of people have attached a lot of irrational fear and eerie superstition on anything to do with the number 13. Some buildings don't have a 13th floor. Instead, the numbers go from 12 to 14. Some hotels and apartment buildings don't have a room labeled 13. Apollo 13 was the manned mission to the moon that is affectionately known as a "successful failure." If you suffer from triskaidekaphobia, September has a nice surprise for you: Friday the 13th. Heck, a whole series of horror films were centered around Friday the 13th. Yessiree! If this is you, you might want to stay home from work, school, or avoid any activities that might have even the slightest risk of injury or harm.

This month's cover celebrates the superstition and fear that comprises triskaidekaphobia, thanks to the appearance of Friday the 13th. Buahahaha!

Until next month, I bid you peace, happiness, serenity and prosperity. Plus, all the home runs you can hit!