For the first 10 years of their life, the "Devil Rays" (as they were once infamously known) were the laughingstock of baseball, and arguably all of the sports world. They had Wade Boggs and what is considered his greatest moment, his 3,000th hit, though he would have had that anywhere; it was just happenstance he was wearing black, purple, and green and playing in a perpetually-maligned dome. They had the "Hit Show" - Jose Conseco, Fred McGriff, Vinny Castilla, and Greg Vaughn - which, needless to say, didn't live up to their hype. They never had an out-of-last-place season - let alone a winning season - save for one season, 2004, when they finished 4th in the AL East. They had homegrown stars - Josh Hamilton, Joe Kennedy, Aubrey Huff, Randy Winn - that went on to have much better careers after leaving their first home. They had an owner who not only refused to open his wallet, but also refused to allow cheering, screaming, and any type of loud noises anywhere in "his" stadium; anyone caught breaking this "rule" would be asked politely to quiet down, then on the next attempt to hush the "rabble-rouser" they would be evicted.
Yet, with all that documented extensively, I made a seemingly irrational decision one day in September 2007: I became a shareholder in the team of endless misery. Apparently, I am - myself - a glutton for punishment. After I signed the paperwork and handed over the check, the first thing I said to myself: "What the hell did I just do...?"
I grew up in Pedricktown, New Jersey. I'm sure - unless you live in Salem or Gloucester counties - you've never heard of it. It is, however, the most-rural suburb of Philadelphia, and as a member of the Delaware Valley, your sports allegiances are already dictated to you in the delivery room: Sixers, Flyers, Eagles, and Phillies are your only choices, so choose wisely or face the possibility of adoption. You're forgiven if you choose not to like any of the aforementioned teams, so long as you don't like any other team in their respective sports league. Some people believe in a bastardized version of the Amish's Rumspringa, where when you are old enough to think for yourself (usually anywhere between 9-13 years old), you can choose a different team in any and/or all sports. However, once you choose, you are bound to follow them ad infinitum. This explains how, in an area that is very staunchly against any team in any sport's division rivals, you will find some "brave" Cowboys, Devils, Braves, and Knicks fans.
I stayed true and exclusive to my "birth-rite" teams (though I never really followed the NBA to any great extent, so my indifference toward the Sixers is forgiven by most) until about 2006 - 3 years after I moved to St. Pete. Up until that time, I refused to set foot in the "Dumb Dome" and my baseball fix was obtained in the short month of March on the open, grassy surface of Bright House Field in Clearwater or the occasional Phillies game on Fox and Sun Sports (when they played the Marlins).
I got my hockey fix going to the two games per year the Flyers played at the St. Pete Times Forum and would only go to other games if I got free tickets from work, convinced friends (like Kevin and "Rabid Nick") I knew would like them to come with me, and I'd get to cheer against the Bolts (be it the Maple Leafs or the Mighty Ducks); the only exception to the "cheer against the Bolts" was when they played the Atlantic Division teams...for obviously-selfish reasons.
My football fix would come with going to the local Eagles bar, The Bull Horn on USF's campus, every week with my friend from work, Immani, that I found, too, likes the Birds. Even if it was "all-the-way" in Tampa, I was there for almost every game - unless it was shown on local Fox, CBS, or ABC TV so I could watch with my mom. You could always catch me there with my Irving Fryar, then David Akers Super Bowl, jersey, chanting "Fly, Eagles, Fly!" with the rest of them.
Never in a million years would I root against any of them, as they were my teams, my link to the snow-covered region I left back on that cold day of March 16, 2003.
Then I visited Al Lang Field.
In 2007, my then-roommate Becky suggested, instead of going to Clearwater in March, I should check-out the ballpark by the Bay in Downtown St. Pete. I just started my new job down the street the May prior, so I could park at work and walk over, making it even more convenient. Sure it may not be as new and shiny as Bright House Field, but Progress Energy Park (as Al Lang Field is now called) had the old Florida charm all the other spring training stadiums combined couldn't even muster, she said.
So, I took her up on her suggestion. We went to the first meeting of the Devil Rays and the Phillies that year at Al Lang, and what I was saw on the field impressed me and gave me hope for the future of the team. I knew this team wasn't far off from finally, after years of mediocrity, being a contender. I was watching history in the making, and I loved everything I saw.
And I wasn't talking about the Phillies.
The Devil Rays played a style of baseball I hadn't seen on Broad Street since I was young. They had guys like Carl Crawford and Delmon Young that were aggressive on the bases, they had guys like Carlos Peña and Akinori Iwamura that could hit the side of the Mahaffey Theater in Al Lang's outfield if they tried, and they had starting pitching out of Scott Kazmir and James Shields that made opposing batters cringe. Their bullpen, with people like Chad Orvella and Jae Kuk Ryu however, was anemic - to put it mildly - and made high-quality pitchers like Grant Balfour and J.P. Howell look just as bad. Once that was fixed, I knew they were going to be not just good, but very good. They showed up the Phillies that day, and as we walked back to my work parking lot, I told Becky, "Sure, I'll go to more games down here with you."
With the highly-publicized entrance of a new manager and ownership (the "Under Construction" campaign was extremely visible the entire 2005 season), they turned Tropicana Field from the "Dumb Dome" to "The Trop". Gone was the empty space on the walls that made it feel like the inside of an oil container or warehouse, and the redesign made it feel more like what a baseball field should feel like: large, easy-to-see stats boards and scoreboards, advertisements that felt more like those at Yankee Stadium, and what was once the largest-HDTV in baseball. On- and off-the-field, it felt like baseball finally arrived at the Trop...9 years late.
Despite Peña setting the team record for most HRs in a season (as well as leading the AL) and winning the AL's Comeback Player of the Year Award, Kazmir having the most strikeouts in the AL (and most in 162 games for all of baseball; Jake Peavy needed 163 days to beat him when San Diego played Arizona in a tie-breaker game), and Delmon Young being 2nd in voting for AL Rookie of the Year, the team still finished poorly: 66-96, worst in the majors, thanks in large part to the bullpen's over 6.00 ERA, worst in the majors in over 50 years. But the stage was set for greatness, and after going to over 20 regular season games through the course of the season - even when they took their tailspin in late June into August - I decided to invest in their future.
I became a season-ticket holder of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.
"Sure hope you know what you're doing...." my conscience and checkbook both said. I'm sure glad I did, though, for - as everyone knows by now - the newly-christened "Tampa Bay Rays" kept winning and kept winning, making the playoffs for the first time in their history (not to mention it was their first-ever winning season), then continued to surprise as they went to the World Series in 2008 against (holy shit!) my Phillies. For the record, I wore my Devil Rays jersey - I got it on super-clearance at the end of the 2007 season for $50 (normally $200) - with my Rays hat only because my friend, Brad, was in town from Philly, so I had to balance out his Philly love. However, for Game 2, I wore my Phillies shirt with Rays hat. I didn't care whom won, as my "impossible dream" scenario came true.
I'm still a season-ticket holder of the Rays to this day. Even as the prices kept going up - and my pay at work went down - I cut corners to make it work, as I'm not about to give up my tickets; I love my Rays too much. I still love my Phillies and always will, but let's be honest: what do the Phillies do for my community? They don't help with youth sports funding in Tampa. They don't visit schools in New Port Richey to help add to the reading programs. They don't contribute $100 million to the economy of St. Petersburg every year. The closest they come to me in normal years during the season is Miami.
The Rays do all that, and more, for my new home. In that area, they are even greater than the 2008 World Series champions, and it took me a trip to Al Lang Field to finally admit that to myself.
The Lightning, on a smaller scale, contribute in the same aspects, but I don't carry a torch for them nearly as much as I do for the Rays; I don't however, boo them when I go anymore, and only cheer against them when Philly's in town. I can safely say I'm still a Flyers fan first, but I enjoy getting my hockey fix at the Forum on days that the "Orange Crush" doesn't take over the stands. So, in that aspect, I guess it makes me a Lightning fan, but don't expect me to choose between the two: it's not a choice - Broad Street Bullies all-the-way!
I can't say the same if I had to choose between the Rays and Phillies, nor should I have to. They never play each other except in spring training, occasional interleague games, and the World Series. They have (for the most-part, if I'm any indication) completely separate fan bases that work differently, but are just as passionate as each other. But most importantly, they hold different places in my heart: the Phillies represent my past and all the great things I miss about it, while the Rays represent my present and all the even greater things and people I know now (and good friends I go to games with on a regular basis, like "McLovin" and James). So, that being said, I guess I'd have to say if I had to choose, sorry Uncle Cholly, but Merlot Joe and his team of superheroes are my number ones.
Sure, they may play in a nationally-loathed but locally-loved dome with catwalks people refuse to understand in front of crowds deemed "unacceptable" by suits in a faraway city that has a fan base with a 40+ year headstart to grow to today's sizes with a media that laments their eventual removal from the area, but the people who preach to me and other converted fans that those aspects should be cause enough not to even like them just don't get it. You can't have it both ways: "you can't forsake your birth-rite" but "they don't deserve a team since they can't support them." For a team that's oldest "birth-rite" fan is only 13 years old today, it's impossible to sustain a team with only kids under 13 in the stands. So, I'm doing my part and supporting my team, and damn anyone who tries to pull that "birth-rite" crap on me. Face it, reality dictates you cannot have it both ways, so the sooner you realize that, the sooner I can possibly convert you too, if only for a day. As with me, a day is possibly all you need to change your thinking forever.
I still have never been to Raymond James Stadium and have no intention of going anytime soon, in case you're wondering.
