Why I'm a Diehard Rays Fan (and Closet Lightning Fan) - My Manifesto

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.

Where's Our All-Star Game, Bud?!?

Tonight - Tuesday, June 13, 2010 - the 81st Major League Baseball All-Star Game will take place at Angels Stadium in Anaheim. It's considered to be the showcase of baseball's most-talented players. Almost every Hall-of-Famer has played here in the national spotlight of the Midsummer Classic. It brings to the city - and the team - that hosts it the pomp and circumstance that goes along with it. And money - lots of money. Tourists from across the country, people who not only love their teams, but baseball as an institution more so, come to that city for two nights to soak in all that is the All-Star Game.

Now, it's St. Pete's - and Florida's - turn to share in this tradition.

I know what you're thinking: "Not until they build a new stadium should one be awarded." And I'll call you out right now and say you're naïve and wrong, and here's why:

Never has there been an All-Star Game held in the Sunshine State, and once the Diamondbacks host the game next year - unless the protesters get their way - the Marlins and the Rays will be the only two teams never to have hosted one (the Nationals hosted one while still in Montreal, but otherwise, every other team has hosted one in their current city). Right there, you put two teams that are constantly marked in the news as "poor attendance teams" at a monetary disadvantage for both the year they'd have it and subsequent years preceding and following. They don't have the right to say "Home of the xxxx All-Star Game" on their door, while the other teams can - and do. The "Luxury Tax" encourages parity in the system, but ignoring a state of 19 million - and two metros with a combined population of 9.5 million - in choosing a site for your showcase game goes a long way to calling that tax a farce.

"Why the Rays over the Marlins, then? The Marlins have more people in their metro, as well as two World Series rings." Simple: it rains in the summer in Florida. Compared with its counterpart in Miami Gardens, Tropicana Field is a 43,000-seat (with the tarps off) icebox, complete with 72˚ temperatures, a non-existent breeze, and nary a cloud in the sky. There is zero chance for a rain delay in the dome, and - as shown during the 2008 World Series - St. Pete knows how to throw a party. This time, they'd have more time to prepare to make it spectacular. That's the difference between prepping for a World Series and ASG: time. With a World Series, you have 2-3 weeks top to get the items that cost and can't be returned if you don't make it, whereas you have 3-4 years to prep for an ASG that you know is coming for certain. St. Pete shined during the World Series, so with enough time, it'll blow that away as the biggest event ever in the city.

"But domes aren't good for baseball; plus having the catwalks will make the Home Run Derby a 'disgrace'." There have been four fixed-roof stadiums to host the ASG: Houston's Astrodome (thrice), Seattle's Kingdome, the Twin Cities' Metrodome, and Montreal's Stade Olympique. Another five additional outdoor stadiums have held the festivities on what was considered to be a poorer-grade turf than the Trop has today: Cincinnati's Riverfront Stadium (twice), Philly's Veterans Stadium (twice), Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Stadium (twice), Toronto's SkyDome, and Washington's RFK Stadium (during the Senators/Rangers era), the last one as late as 1996 at the Vet. In all, that works out to 14 games (17.28%) played on similar conditions to the Trop, and a whopping 50% of the games played from 1968-1996 (first and last years on turf) were played indoors and on the fake stuff. Granted, none of them have the catwalk issue, but the point remains the Trop wouldn't be the first fixed-dome to host, as that precedent was set back in 1968, and it wouldn't be the first - or theoretically the last - with an artificial surface to host, either (1968-70, three years in a row did, and the SkyDome - now the Rogers Centre - is not planning on planting the natural stuff anytime soon, seeing as they just has a major upgrade on their AstroTurf this year). In fact, it could be a fitting sendoff to the era of domes by allowing the Trop to have the honors sooner, seeing as the lifespan has been significantly shortened recently.

And on the catwalk issue, a new precedent could, in fact, be set for the Home Run Derby. If they felt those concentric rings were "disgraceful", move the Derby to Al Lang Field. That's right: a small Minor League-sized park overlooking Tampa Bay could be the center of the baseball universe for one night, just as it had been for those 94 years of Spring Training, another homage to the past. Take some of the bleachers from the Grand Prix of St. Pete and put them as temporary seating along the outfield wall, and you've just turned the small ballpark by the Bay into the ideal spot to smash home runs all night.

"Why not just wait until a new stadium is built?" If Bud had his way, it'd have been opening next year already...somewhere else. However, our region is currently in an upheaval over whether Tampa or St. Pete - or Charlotte - should get the Rays, so based on the rate new stadiums are granted the privilege of hosting an ASG, we'd be waiting 15-20 years before we were even considered. Quite frankly, the Rays don't have that long. The Marlins have a new stadium being built on Calle Ocho, so they're not going anywhere anytime soon. The Rays, on the other hand, have a contract that can easily be bought out keeping them here. We need something that will bring this community around them once and for all, and the ASG will do that. At the rate things are going, we can't afford to wait.

So, Mr. Bud Selig, Commissioner of Major League Baseball, I know you'll never read this, but you need to know that St. Pete and Tampa Bay, for all we have done for baseball over the past 100 years, want, need, and deserve the All-Star Game in Tropicana Field. To continue to give it to the "haves" in baseball is a disgrace, while the "have-nots" have to fight to even keep our teams around. So we don't have the Taj Mahal of baseball; that honor belongs to the Bronx. We also don't have the ancient stomping grounds of legends past; those are in Boston and Chicago. Nor do we have the shiniest and newest of stadiums; in fact, we're the 9th-oldest. However, we have a place guaranteed to have perfect weather, a great atmosphere, a sellout crowd, and enough positive highlights to make it a game to remember. Enough with playing politics and let us just have the game that - for all the right reasons - belongs in the heart and birthplace of Spring Training, St. Petersburg, Florida.

A House Divided...

In 1990, a decades-old dream was finally realized. It started with a visionary named Albert Lang, who, way back in 1914, decided he wanted something to help bolster the tourism and appeal of the bayside hamlet of which he was the visionary mayor. Then, sixty years later, the leaders of the now-burgeoning city realized St. Petersburg's best days were behind them: crime was rampant in the southern and downtown parts of the city, and the northern reaches were relegated to nothing more than over-glorified retirement communities. The tax base was way down for even the most basic of emergency services, thereby straining the coffers to the point of breaking. "White Flight" was just as prevalent here as it was in the Rust Belt. Something needed to be done, and they had an epiphany: they needed to use the one thing that still brought the people back every spring and make it a more permanent fixture, bringing people here to spend their money in the dead of summer so they can realize it's not a bad place to live and bring their money with them full-time.

Thus, the Florida Suncoast Dome was born. Of course, like Rome, it wasn't built in a day - or a decade for that matter. But eventually, after much fighting regionally between St. Petersburg and its bigger sister across the bay, Tampa, and in-fighting within St. Pete's city limits itself, a site - and a design - was finally chosen. Fast forward back to 1990, and the builders, city leaders, and design critics all call the lopsided dome with concentric, self-supporting rings holding its roof aloft "the stadium for the 21st Century." It's the jewel of St. Petersburg - even though the then-commissioner of Major League Baseball told the city that just because they build it, they won't necessarily come - and a state-of-the-art masterpiece in all of its air-conditioned glory.

Then, Camden Yards is built....

Now, the stadium that was built only two short years prior - the year in which the dome (now renamed the Thunderdome) is inhabited by both the NHL's Lightning and AFL's Storm - is now "functionally obsolete" for the original purpose it was built, a sport that hadn't even been awarded to the area yet and won't be for another four years. Everyone "in the know" now wants their very own Camden Yards in their downtowns; apparently, what works in one city is a goldmine everywhere, or so the thinking goes.

So, with that in mind, the 9th-newest stadium in Major League Baseball when the Rays first took the field is today the 9th-oldest (soon to become the 8th-oldest in 2012 with the opening of the Marlins' new house in Little Havana). Tropicana Field, as it's now called, is a relic long before its time. By declaring his intentions on June 21, Stu Sternberg has said, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Trop is done and needs to be replaced. And, he's not mincing words, either:

“Baseball in the Tampa Bay area does not belong to Stu Sternberg, just as it doesn’t belong to St. Petersburg or Tampa, Pinellas or Hillsborough. It is a regional asset. It belongs to our fans throughout the region. For this asset to be preserved, a comprehensive process to explore a new ballpark must begin."

So, as you can see, he's trying to force "regional cooperation" in determining the next site of the Rays base of operations. Personally, I'd love to see that myself, because for far too long, Tampa and St. Pete have acted like fierce rivals in some sort of chess match for total domination of the region. However, as a St. Petersburger, I can understand why residents on this side of the water feel constantly at-war with their neighbor to the northeast.

We are not like other "twin cities" in the country, namely Minneapolis/St. Paul and Dallas/Fort Worth. In those regions, they work together more than just philosophically; they share tax revenue from the areas' attractions - including their sports teams - along with spending money equally for regional services. Even now, here in Tampa Bay regional transit is beginning to take shape...with each county paying its own way, but only if the citizens of those counties vote to approve it at all in their borders. We do not cooperate like the Twin Cities or the Metroplex because we prefer to act independent - and bitch about it later when we can't afford luxuries we became accustomed to anymore.

When St. Petersburg built the Suncoast Dome 20 years ago, it was with St. Pete and Pinellas County money. Tampa brought nothing to the table, nor did Hillsborough, Manatee, Pasco, or any other county government for that matter. Basically put: if St. Pete loses the Rays, we lose not only a team or a piece of our civic pride, we also lose the money brought to this city by them each and every year since we were the only ones to bear the financial burden. This city and county had to go it alone, and sadly, this is how pretty much any public works project goes around here, and until that mentality changes, I can completely appreciate why the city of St. Pete refuses to listen to a suit from New York tell them how to "cooperate".

However, that leaves only three options to solving this mess, and none involve the lame - and tired - argument of "enforcing the contract through 2027 via legal proceedings"; let's face it: if the Seattle SuperSonics, original Cleveland Browns, and Baltimore Colts can all get out of their contracts relatively unscathed, so too can the Rays:

1. St. Petersburg must come to the table with a kickass proposal to be located in the Trop's current parking lot - something that will satiate Stu's wanderlust - while understanding we're going to have to probably front about 67% of the costs; not doing this will cause the city to lose a massively substantial tax base and, by extension, lose even more city services,
2. Tampa and St. Petersburg - along with all the surrounding counties, as well as others in the demographic area (Polk, Hernando, Sarasota, Citrus, Sumter, Hardee, and Desoto) - need to finally put "regional differences" aside, realize we need each other to survive in the 21st Century against the Charlottes, Austins, and Portlands of the country, and start working on a regional sales tax to pay for public works projects that affect more than 60% of the metro's population base, such as public transit, tourism advertising, and (yes) stadiums, or
3. Pack Evan Longoria's bags for him to move with the team to Norfolk/Virginia Beach, San Antonio, or Vancouver (What? Canada's hungry for another team!).

That all said, we're really not left with many choices. As much as Stu Sternberg is being vilified by the region (myself included) for telling us how to run our lives, his concise assessment may actually be something that will help us all much sooner than anyone expected. He said something that needed to be said for a long time, but no one has the muscle - or balls - to say it until now: we're a broken region with our petty parochialism. It's our own fault, though, but now's our chance to shine and make up for the shortsightedness of our parents. What was seen as a good idea with "home-rule" in the '50s is holding us back from becoming the next great region today.

However, tomorrow's another day, and hopefully we'll have come a long way by then. Hell, at least our grandparents had enough foresight to fly the world's first commercial "airline", as well as build the then-world's longest bridge, all in attempt for cross-bay cooperation. Maybe we can take a lesson from them instead and put it to use in 2010....

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

So, another baseball season starts tonight. Gone are the dark days - between the Super Bowl and Opening Day - of being forced to watch random basketball games on TNT and ABC to pass the time (I, personally love hockey, so I will not call it, as John Saunders - a Canadian and avid hockey fan himself, I might add - from ESPN's Sports Reporters recently mused,

"Hockey will always be sports' ugly step-sister. Even those who don't really care seem to go out of their way to dislike the game."

Though, sadly, I can see his point most other Americans' attitudes of indifference toward it.) and watching the same exact dunk or 3-point shot on SportsCenter every waking moment. The smell of grass, hot dogs, and Cracker Jacks have been hot and heavy in the air for a few weeks now with spring training steadily progressing in Florida and Arizona. And starting tonight, the Boys of Summer will return to their homes, be them ancient temples to the Baseball Gods, modern works of art, hyper-expensive replicas of their former selves, or impressive domes people love to hate, and we will be watching. But, do the overblown economics really dictate the game as much the press - and the fans of the smaller-market teams - lead you to believe? Have the fortunes of all 30 teams really been decided before the games even count? If you listen to what Bud Selig tells you, yeah, and something needs to be done about it.

With the first pitch of the season being thrown in Boston against (who else?) dem Yanks, the chatter around the League right now is creating something of an obscure idea here in North America, but common in the rest of the world in their football leagues: rotating leagues. Now, all four North American major sports leagues (as well as lesser ones, like Major League Soccer and the Arena Football League) keep a static form of divisions; that is, they stay in the same league and division until the powers-that-be decide - for any myriad of reasons, ranging from geographical considerations to scheduling balance - to make a change. Over in Eurasia, however, what league you are playing in in any given year depends on how well or poorly you did the year prior. If you were the champion of Division II last year, you can move to Division I to try and see if you can win that one, too. If you sucked in Div. I after moving up, well, be thankful your team isn't being sent to Div. III instead.

Though MLB's proposal isn't as radical (no, teams like the Mets won't be sent to the Minors, though if they were, they'd probably be better off going straight to the Single-A Sally League), it would allow teams that are in "rebuilding years" - excluding the Mets - to move to a higher-grossing division to get more revenue share for said rebuilding by swapping with teams that are constantly competing against powerhouses and falling just short. The best example of this would be putting the Oakland A's in the AL "East" and letting the Tampa Bay Rays play in the AL "West" so they both get what they want: the A's would get more money for better players and a healthier future, while the Rays would have a chance at a division title without relying on the bad luck of other teams to make it happen (let's face it: the Rays were phenomenal in 2008, but the Yanks were just plain bad, which allowed the Rays to exploit that and make it to the Promised Land).

Proponents say, since a salary cap isn't in the cards anytime in the near future, this is the closest to parity we can get in baseball right now. I'm in the camp with the opponents, however. I believe constantly moving teams around year-to-year not only wreaks havoc on the schedule, but also fragments rivalries, which is truly what puts people in the stands. It also puts an undue burden on the team, causing them to under-perform. No longer is it a simple jog up the East Coast to play the other teams in the division; you're now flying out west for 36 games a year, playing with jet-lag 24 games more than the norm. Anyone who has crossed the country once had a hard enough time acclimating to the change once; imagine your own performance doing that up to 12 times in a 5 month period. No one should have to work under those types of conditions, even athletes.

A much better - and more controversial - solution would be to break up the two toughest teams in baseball, who are locked in eternal grudge match while the rest of the division suffers. Yes, I am talking about the AL East's Yanks and Red Sox. Yes, geographically, they are in the correct division, but by virtue of their bottomless wallets, they have pretty much owned the AL East and, by virtue of 2nd place in the division, the AL Wild Card for all but 7 of the 15 years the current format has been in play (1997 Orioles and 2008 Rays each won the division, and 1996 O's, 2000 Mariners, 2001 A's, 2002 Angels, and 2006 Tigers each won the WC). That means, more than half the time, both the Yankees and Red Sox will both be in the playoffs while the rest of the teams are on the sidelines.

The current system penalizes mid-market teams. Not every team has a ravenous fan base like New York and Boston, and the longer they're allowed to control the only two spots into the playoffs, the more it hurts the other teams by lost revenue streams in October and smaller fan bases at the perception of constant mediocrity (if you miss the playoffs, you suck, right?). Leaving those two to play each other for the same playoff spots year-in and year-out will soon do more damage to baseball than steroids ever could.

So, what we will do is have the Yankees and Mets swap leagues, with them going to the NL East and AL East, respectively. Right there, the parity is split between the two sides and breaks up the constant monopoly of the AL East lead positions. For those that say that would just monopolize the NL East (with 4-time division champ and 2-time pennant winner Philadelphia quickly becoming a dynasty) causing the same issue, have Philly and Pittsburgh swap, too. Yeah, it's not geographically correct, but that can be solved later with the addition of two more teams (see my previous post on the subject of expansion).

There, problem solved, and no need for inconsistency year-to-year. Why should other teams be penalized if the core problem is between two behemoths in a top-heavy division? Split those two up, and smaller-market teams will start winning thereby having more people coming to their games, helping MLB as a whole. But logic won't happen in Major League Baseball so long as Bud's still in charge. However, people have surprised me before, but I'm not holding my breath. Until the tides change, the Rays will just have to continue to win on low budgets, I guess.

You Only Live Twice: The Update

Hi gang! I'll keep this short and sweet as it's merely an update to my last post on the history and future of Al Lang Field. Well, I promised once I got a reply from the other St. Pete mayoral candidate, Kathleen Ford, I'd post it. So, without further ado, her reply, two weeks later, verbatim:

Hi, Jim,

I think the current mayor is attempting to enter into an agreement for the use of Al Lang Field. There was a visioning workshop last winter where residents discussed Al Lang Field's future potential uses. No plan has been passed. As you know, the City has a rich history of spring training baseball. There is nothing in our current city charter that protects Al Lang Field (I helped draft such an amendment-see www.stpetepoww.com). I think the uses of our public waterfront should be decided by the citizens. Our beautiful waterfront is what sets us apart from most cities in Florida!

Kathleen

And there you have it. Read from it how you will, because it's definitely, in my opinion, open for interpretation.

Oh, and in case you're not paying attention...GO PHILS!!!

You Only Live Twice?

I was going to write my next blog on the virtues of high-speed rail and why it will be the best thing for Florida since the advent of air conditioning, but while trying to think about how not to bore you with endless prose, I came across something that broke my heart: according to Ballpark Digest, Al Lang Field is now considered the most endangered ballpark in the country. What does that mean? It means the piece of property credited with starting the modern incarnation of Spring Training will, unless something is done quickly, become nothing more than another park.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan of the St. Petersburg waterfront. I believe the idea of leaving the waterfront parkland in perpetuity took tremendous foresight by the city's founders, especially in a time when the only true sign of a "major city" was factories billowing with smoke and water browner than mud. "It's a minor inconvenience to becoming a modern city," was the common contemporary thinking, and not to kowtow to that was incredible. Mayor Al Lang, for whom the current stadium is named, thought that, instead of trying to become an industrial powerhouse, get the teams of the northern metropolises to come to him. He then took a piece of that parkland and built a stadium on what is the parking lot of the current stadium and built Waterfront Park to replace his first brainchild, Coffee Pot Park, opened just 10 years earlier.

Everyone from Babe Ruth to Joe DiMaggio, and Stan Musial to Ozzie Smith, all played on this hallowed ground every March. A total of seven teams called this price of property bounded by 1st St S, 1st Ave SE, Bayshore Dr SE, and 4th Ave SE, home over the course of 86 years. With the left foul line a mere 100 feet from Tampa Bay and Albert Whitted Airport's 7/25 runway about 1000 feet from the outfield wall, its scenery is easily number one in the Grapefruit League, and quite possibly one of the best in the country. While there is no outfield seating (like most Spring Training ballparks in the Sunshine State), the berms along the foul lines are very comfortable and oriented perfectly fine for viewing baseball. But alas, at the close of Rays Spring Training in 2008, the bats have fallen silent.

There are many theories as to why it sits idle today, but what everyone can agree on one thing: the Rays left for Port Charlotte in March of this year for a new spring home. My theory is this: yes, they wanted a new pro stadium on the site, and to me, it seems like the natural progression from Minor League host city to Major League Player. However, a majority of the city thought differently, and the Rays are now looking elsewhere - be it in Tropicana Field's parking lot or Tampa - so the shell of the former icon sits mothballed, hoping to one day have a game played. So, it still sits empty, but with all the amenities I've explained, why would that be? It's because the seating area itself is outdated and not conducive to attracting another homeless team (like the Cubs, who just told Mesa, AZ, to give them a new home ASAP, or they're leaving HoHoKam Park at the end of next Spring Training. Hey, Mayor Baker, you reading this?!?), despite everything going for it. No matter how beautiful the locale, no one wants to play in a dump.

The best thing the city can do is the following: tear down Al Lang Field as it is today. Turn the grandstand to where the outfield is today and orient home plate to face due north; that, right there, will get the sun out of the batter's eyes, plus give everyone in the seats the most spectacular downtown skyline view of almost any ballpark (what park do you know is a block from the city's tallest buildings?). Build outfield seating, even if it's just a berm with a boardwalk that raps around the entire structure, thus expanding seating. Recruit local restaurants to provide the concessions, giving the fare a distinctively St. Pete feel. Finally, bring Minor League Baseball back. While the biggest draw will be March and Spring Training, people like me who love baseball, while still going to Rays games religiously, would want to take in a Saturday night ballgame on a day when the Rays are out of town; they could easily work out a schedule that wouldn't conflict too much between the two organizations, even if they are separate teams. Just don't let it disappear.

The current mayoral race here in St. Petersburg has a lot riding on it. The two candidates are differing on many key issues, from policing to how to handle a new stadium for the Rays. However, what has never been brought up in the debates is how they will handle Al Lang Field. I recently e-mailed both candidates for mayor and asked what they intend to do with sacred ground. Bill Foster plans to have an "Asian Major League" team train here alongside the MLB (which makes sense since the Grapefruit League now only has 15 members with the departure of the Reds for Goodyear, AZ, this coming year), and having Canadian and European teams fill the rest of the year. As he told me in an e-mail from 10/15:

"I am already working on this, and have great interest from a major league team from Korea, and the Canadian National team is already on board. Once Korea comes on board, a team from Japan can't be too far behind."

This could be a promising - and interesting - idea. My only question is how many people will actually come to Florida from Korea in March, and how many Canadians will actually come down in the heat of August? Getting anyone that's never heard of St. Pete to come is always a plus, but how realistic is that of an expectation? I'm open to new ideas, but I think we should get the guaranteed money in first before expanding globally. Definitely intriguing, though.

I have yet to hear back from Kathleen Ford's camp. The e-mail to both was sent out on 10/15. If she responds I'll update this post accordingly, but as of this moment, I have to take this as she is too focused on forcing the Rays into keeping the Trop until 2027 instead of worrying about things in her own backyard that can be solved today. I'm open to a future without Al Lang Field, the ballpark, if a reasonable alternative is presented. However, another open-space park is not one of them.

(10/30 UPDATE: She finally responded! See the info HERE!!!)

The loss of an icon, or a rebirth? That all depends on who you ask or what happens in the near future. Even if you don't like baseball, you need to be able to respect the land for what it has come to represent: the beginning of a springtime ritual that has thousands migrate south for 30 days of pleasure. While times have changed, Spring Training has not, and it's all based on the formula perfected on this plot of land by the small sleepy town of St. Pete. Just as St. Pete has grown into the 4th-largest city in Florida, has it truly outgrown its roots that much? I don't believe so, but I hope the the rest of the city feels the same way. Otherwise, another piece of our history will be reduced to a lawn.

Expansion of an Institution

I'm ending my self-imposed moratorium on discussing baseball. It's a sport I love, as Kevin may argue, to a fault. It's one of the things I'm truly optimistic about in life and I can spend hours talking about it. It's one of the common denominators we all, as Americans, can relate to. Whether we love it or loathe it, we all respect it as America's Pastime. Yeah, football is more ingrained into the American psyche now, but that's just dumbed-down rugby. Basketball has Mayan and African origins, and hockey is all thanks to the Great White North. Baseball, whether or not related to cricket in its purest form, is, like mom and apple pie, Americana in its essence.

The love of the game is what makes Major League Baseball the second-most profitable sports league in the world (behind the NFL). Japan has its own Major Leagues, as well as most of Southeast Asia and some European nations. It's a simple game, really: hit the ball, run to the bases, make it home without getting caught. It's how it's done, as well as the length of the season, that adds to the intrigue. The home run chases, the pitchers' duels, the trades: they all make a season interesting. Fans live and die with one of the 30 teams you remain loyal to season after season, as if they were some sects of a cult religion. You learn to hate the warring factions, even if you're not sure why there's animosity, simply because your father, and his father, and his father all did before you. You carry a torch for your mortal gods, no matter how well or how poorly they do. No other sport allows one team to have a wretched day and still be able to join the immortals of October, especially not the anointed football. "Baseball", as the Tampa Bay Rays' marketing department has been saying all year, "is beautiful."

This is why I feel now is the time for expansion into both underserved and unserved markets. The love is still there and people still want to see the boys of summer become our gods of the cult. Minor League Baseball is alive and well in this country, though most of the players aren't under the pretense they will ever make it to the Bigs. Some major metropolitan areas are more than 200 miles from their closest MLB team, and while their MiLB players are grateful to play there, they, as well as the citizenry of those "minor cities", would love to host the real deal. They would love the opportunity to have the Commissioner's Trophy parade down their Main Street - or at least appear for photo ops in City Hall.

St. Pete is the most recent to experience this. Long considered the Birthplace of Spring Training, St. Petersburg joined the "major cities" in 1998 by finally filling the Thunderdome with its own baseball team. It took 11 seasons, but the Rays finally had its first winning season, playoff berth, and World Series appearance - all at once. And while the season didn't include a ticker-tape parade down Bayshore Dr, the Commissioner's Trophy did finally set foot on this holy city, the mecca of modern baseball, spring home to the immortals - Ruth, Gehrig, DiMaggio, Musial, Ozzie Smith, Stengel, among countless others that faced them in the holiest of shrines, Al Lang Field. It took 92 years from the time Mayor Al Lang convinced the Phillies and Browns to come to his city in March until his ultimate dream was realized of a World Series being played there, but it truly was worth the wait.

It's time for others to feel that euphoria of each pitch, the joy of each homer, and the overall feeling of ecstasy of a Major League Baseball season. And with that, I give you my possible candidates for expansion. Keep in mind that, due to the current scheduling structure of the Majors, only even numbers can join at once, or else the National and American leagues would need to play each other all the time, and personally, I like the fact they're separated, save three weeks-a-year. Without further ado, here are the candidates for a new franchise and why - welcome to the Majors, everyone:



1.) Hampton Roads - With the exclusion of Las Vegas (which no pro sports team will touch until they come to an agreement over sports betting), this region is the largest metropolis without any of the Major Sports (MLB, NFL, NBA, and NHL). They're chomping at the bit for anything to come their way; in fact, they almost obtained the then-Montreal Expos with the hopes of an expansion to their minor league park would seal the deal. Unfortunately, it didn't, and that team is now the Washington Nationals, a mere 208 miles one-way away. With a worthy investor and a hungry populous, this turns into a gold mine for anyone willing to take a chance.

2.) Portland, OR - This city is the model of urban planning. Its metro system is constantly ranked toward the top of lists year after year and its environmentally-conscious government make this one hell of a desirable locale. It has only one "Big 4" team: the NBA's Trailblazers. The people love them intensely and that rabid fandom would carry over to baseball, making it more than profitable in every sense.

3.) Vancouver, BC - "But Jimbo, didn't MLB just pull half the Canadian teams back to the US?" Yes, but Montreal's biggest flaw was its white elephant, the Olympic Stadium. That place costs more to operate in, even paid-off, than almost every other stadium in MLB. This is why even the CFL pulled the Allouettes out and built them a new stadium. Vancouver, on the other hand, is just as large of a metro, with a large percentage of their citizens being Mariners, not Blue Jays, fans. With over 2 million in the metro area and being the only other city in Canada with professional baseball (minor league Class-A Canadians), this is a perfect fit into the Majors.

4.) Charlotte, Raleigh, or Durham, NC - North Carolina is home to the other three of the Big 4: NFL's Panthers, NHL's Hurricanes, and NBA's Bobcats. North Carolina is also home to nine minor league teams of all three skill sets, and one of the most famous teams in the Minors, the Durham Bulls. The pedigree is there, but are the people of North Carolina ready for baseball? I think so, and it would not be a bad investment to think likewise.

5.) Wilmington, DE - Why would I suggest such a small town, one of only 75,000? It's the same distance from Philadelphia as the Dodgers/Angels, Orioles/Nationals, and Giants/Athletics are from each other. Philadelphia is the largest metro without two teams in at least one sport, and as the Athletics were the American League team in Philly from the time they helped charter the AL in 1901 (the team existed in some form since 1876, however) until 1954 when they went to Kansas City, and the fact the Phillies have almost sold-out every game over the past few seasons, they proved they can handle two teams. Putting it in Wilmington allows enough distance for the fan bases to naturally grow in opposite directions: the southern regions attracted to Wilmington and the northern regions attracted to Philly. The AL/NL rivalry could begin again. The Blue Rocks' Frawley Stadium has enough space to expand into a 40,000 seat field, and with its close proximity to downtown Wilmington and I-95, it's a sure-fire bet they will be profitable.




Considering the most likely scenario is going to involve only two teams, bringing the total to 32 - which works well for the NFL - and the most likely candidates would be one new metro (the largest with the least competition from other leagues, Hampton Roads) and a proven area in search of a second team (the Delaware Valley), the new divisions would keep old rivalries in tact as much as possible while allowing for the new additions. Unlike the "four teams, four divisions" system the NFL uses, that won't work in MLB's case to keep said rivalries and the playoff format in tact:

National League East: Philadelphia, New York (NL), Atlanta, Florida (soon Miami), Washington, Pittsburgh
National League Central: Chicago (NL), Milwaukee, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Houston
National League West: Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego, Colorado, Arizona
American League East: New York (AL), Boston, Toronto, Wilmington, Hampton Roads, Baltimore
American League Central: Chicago (AL), Minnesota, Cleveland, Detroit, Tampa Bay
American League West: Seattle, Anaheim, Texas, Oakland, Kansas City

The playoff format would need to be changed slightly, but it would result in only an extra, at most, 3 days of rest for the division winners. With the sudden explosion of extra teams, it would be time to expand to two wild-card slots instead of today's one. This allows more teams to make it to the postseason with a still significantly less percentage-wise playoff ratio when compared to the other leagues. However, the two wild-cards would face each other in a best-of-three, with the winner playing the next team by the same rules as today (#1 seed, except if that team is in the same division).

Now, I'm sure I'll get pushback for my choices of cities that would make it, the subsequent alignment of the divisions, and the postseason arrangement, but if you notice, I picked the most logical choices for all in regards to potential fanbase and overall revenue on all accounts. Also, this is my world and I will do as I see fit.

So, you think you can do better? What would you do, if given unlimited money and power? Which cities would you expand to? Or, would you contract, and if so, who would you eliminate, and why? Can you do better than me? Show me what you're playing ball with!

What Would Jimbo Do? (An Occassional Feature)

Greetings and salutations, my virtual friends. I'm not feeling myself today, so instead of taking meds or getting sleep like I feel like I probably should, I'm instead going to eat Spinach Alfredo pizza with chicken and bacon, forgo all modesty and write this half-naked, and pretend you give a damn about my ideas, because - as you know - I rock! The way this occasional works is simple: I pick one thing going on in the world, no matter how large, controversial, or trivial, and tell you what I, as King of Everything Existing, Gone, and Yet-to-Be-Created, would do. I promise not to go over three paragraphs for the idea, and you're welcome to pelt me with comments/suggestions/questions - or, if you prefer, snowballs. So, without further ado, let the fun begin!

Today's subject: Making an east-west freeway in Pinellas County - Change, no matter how hard people try to fight it, is good for everyone. Things need to change and adapt to survive, and whole people will try and resist, you need to figure out when the change is beneficial and ignore the naysayers or when the vocal opposition is correct. Here's what I think will help St. Pete, and the rest of southern Pinellas County, become much more conveniently attractive to out-of-towners as it deserves to be without demolishing everything in its path:

Build a 4th east-west Tampa Bay high-level crossing, utilizing I-175 via tunnel from right before 4th St S to a man-made island just east of Albert Whitted Airport, that can accommodate commuter rail. With respect to the high water-table, the tunnel can be built the same way as the New River Tunnel is built in Fort Lauderdale so water can't seep in. Charge a toll so the Sunshine Skyway Bridge doesn't suffer from "shunpiking", but something reasonable to make it attractive ($2 eastbound only), and have it connect to I-75 near Apollo Beach. Remove the exit at 6th St, use that space to build a westbound exit to 8th St, and have exits to 4th St (EB) and 3rd St (WB) (a la Boston's Big Dig) to the west of the bridge.

Extend I-175 westward toward the beaches along the 5th St S corridor. Instead of uprooting people's lives, however, use the Big Dig as an example again and bury the freeway under the city. Exits to access this freeway would be available at 22nd St S, 34th St S, and 49th St S, before it turns northwest toward it's final destination. In the meantime, the 1st Ave N/S twins would have access, as well as 5th Ave N. The freeway would reemerge on Tyrone Blvd, which would be turned into a freeway from 9th Ave N all the way to the current freeway-style interchange to Madeira Beach; exits would be provided at today's major intersections: 22nd Ave N/66th St N, 38th Ave N, Park St N, and the Bay Pines VA. Access to others addresses would be provided by frontage roads. The light on the Tom Stuart Causeway would also be removed, as well as raising the drawbridge to eliminate most openings.

There, problem solved. See? That wasn't insanely painful, was it? Again, this is only occasional (read: when I get a bug up my ass), so I can't tell you when or what the next one will be. All I can do is invite you to leave a comment. So, get down on it!

Phickle Phoridians and What They Say About Us

So, I’ve had a terrible case of “writer’s block”, which is why I haven’t posted on this blog since my observation on the Supreme Court of Public Opinion case #2009-0618, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, musca domestica, et. al. vs. Barack H. Obama, President of the United States. Sometimes, however, life has a funny way of dropping something so pertinent to you right on your lap you’d be insane not to approach it. Thus, let me finish this paragraph by stating this: Kevin, I know you and I strongly recommend you look away from the rest of this blog now – you know what’s coming.

Tropicana Field: loathe it or love it, it is the home of the Tampa Bay Rays; has hosted, among others in its 19-year history, the following large-scale events: the largest one-night indoor concert in Florida, NCAA Men’s Final Four, the Davis Cup, the NHL Playoffs, ArenaBowl IX, and – oh yeah – the World Series; and, contrary to popular opinion, is centrally located near the population center of the Bay Area. So, why is it people can pack the Trop when it’s a “gala event” (like the playoffs, the World Series, or the raising of the banners), but when – God-forbid – you need to actually watch the game and not just sit in a seat and take pictures to say, “Look where I was!” the sea of blue you see on TV is not people, but empty seats? What possesses the people of Florida – not just Tampa Bay, as the same phenomenon is occurring in both Miami and Jacksonville – to be apathetic toward something so community-driven that other cities would kill to have?

Let’s first take a look at some of the excuses and see if they can’t be debunked. The biggest excuse that people – mainly from Tampa and to the northeast – have is the time and distance. As a St. Pete resident of 6 years, I can safely say that argument is a load of crap. The worst direction to travel during either rush hour is toward Tampa. The bridges feed into Tampa’s overworked, outdated road system that can’t handle normal everyday traffic. Add the 5-10,000 extra vehicles that will appear on the Howard Frankland, Gandy, or Courtney Campbell bridges during that rush – in which most games are played, and no one would make it leaving at 5:30pm from Pinellas to the stadium, irregardless of the placement in the city, by opening pitch without pushing start times past 7:30pm; it will be near impossible to have Bob DuPry’s office to sign off on that. So, until TBARTA gets going, no place in the area will be convenient enough for everyone.

Speaking of TBARTA, the next issue is its location in general. Having been built in downtown St. Pete, which most consider “isolated” from the area since it’s on a peninsula, makes it that much more impossible to break that impervious across Tampa Bay known as the Hillsborough/Pinellas county line. However, a new study the ABC Coalition published today in the St. Petersburg Times shows 5 different locations and the population within 30 miles of each. Downtown St. Pete has the least, but at 2,245,129, it is within 100,000 of the “top spot”, Downtown Tampa. Also, with TBARTA planning to build a transportation hub right near the Trop location that will make it easily accessible by rail from Clearwater, Tampa, Brandon, Plant City, Wesley Chapel, and possibly New Port Richey, and express busses from northern Pinellas, Bradenton, Sarasota, Brooksville, Crystal River, Lakeland, and all points in between, Downtown St. Pete just became that much more attractive. Granted, it’ll take 5 years – if started today – for the first signs of TBARTA’s impact, but seeing as it takes 3-4 years to build a stadium when you don’t have a billion dollars to throw around like the Yankees and Mets, you need to consider those transportation nodes in the final decision of stadium location.

While we’re talking bottomless bank rolls, let’s talk another favorite topic: dollars and “sense”. Everyone said the original deal to put it on the waterfront for $450 million was “too expensive.” However, those same people arguing it will cost too much also want a $471 million rehab of Tropicana Field. To that I quote Carlos Mencia: “DEE-Dee-dee!!!” Thanks for “protecting our wallets” on that one, POWW. So, according to citizens of Tampa, it either needs to be in Tampa, since it’s the “population center” (which it’s geographically not; including Bradenton and Sarasota, that distinction belongs about 83rd Ave N and 4th St N in St. Pete), or at the very north end of St. Pete so people from Tampa “don’t need to drive as far.” However, there’s no city- or county-owned land up in the Gateway area, as that area of St. Pete is known, that doesn’t require mitigation; same goes with Tampa. So, if Tampa or Gateway are the “prime spots,” why would we up the price of the stadium by up to $150 million in land acquisition and/or landfill mitigation costs just to kowtow to the demands of an extra 100,000? I don’t know about you, but an investment of up to $1.5 million per person for people who may never go to a game seems like wasted money.

Another issue is the play on the field. “Why should I support a team that is barely over .500?” I’ll give you one major reason why: we went to the World Series last year. How’s that for a “what have you done for me lately” retort? They have a winning record! They’re playing surprisingly well in spite of major injuries that took out, for some length of time, the following people (in no particular order): Chad Bradford, Scott Kazmir, Troy Percival, Jason Isringhausen, Jason Bartlett, Aki Iwamura, Evan Longoria, and Pat Burrell (I’m sure I forgot some along the way, too). That’s almost a whole freakin’ team on the DL! Yet they’re three games over .500 – something that would have seemed like a Godsend 2 years ago – and are still within reach of the AL East crown. Granted, in every other division, 38-35 would be good enough for at least 3rd (2nd in the AL Central and NL East), but this isn’t every other division, and I think that’s why the fans are very fickle. However, it’s not excuse. Here’s a list of teams with worse records than us (as of Wednesday) that have better attendance averages (in order of attendance, records and place in division in parentheses): Cubs (34-34, 3rd), Mets (36-34, 2nd), Astros (32-37, 5th), Rockies (37-35, 3rd), Mariners (36-35, 3rd), Twins (36-37, 2nd), D-Backs (30-42, 5th), Braves (34-37, 4th), White Sox (34-37, 3rd), Padres (31-39, 4th), Reds (34-36, 3rd), and Royals (31-39, 4th). In fact, we are one of only two teams that have winning records that are in the bottom 20 – the other being the Marlins (37-36, 3rd) at 29th. See? It’s not just Tampa Bay with the attendance issues.

And that brings me to the bigger issue: are we, as Phloridians (again, my blog, my spelling rules), apathetic to sports in general? The only team that has had no attendance issues anywhere in Phlorida was the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, but that’s about to change with the loss of most of the season ticket holders due to the economy. So what is the root cause of it? What would create such an indifference to teams and franchises that areas like San Antonio, Portland, Hampton Roads, and especially Las Vegas are pushing hard to secure? Do we just, like the sun, sand, and surf, take them for granted that they’ll always be here? Or is it more of an inherent issue? I can honestly see the problem with hockey as a whole in the Sunshine State, as there is no history or pedigree throughout history here (one Stanley Cup doesn’t erase 70 years of isolation from the sport). However, football should be huge here, and it is: at the college level. The pro teams are struggling to fill seats; the Jags are on the verge of moving to Toronto (!) if revenue doesn’t pick back up, and with no naming rights to Jacksonville Municipal Stadium, I don’t foresee that happening in the near-term. The Dolphins are struggling in a tough division and can’t get enough people in the seats to expand the payroll and get better players. The Bucs’ waiting list evaporated almost overnight, and now they’re soliciting me to get a ticket package (just because I’m a Rays’ holder doesn’t mean I would support the team that embarrassed the Eagles in Philly twice in one year’s time). Baseball also has a long, storied history here, but mainly through Spring Training. But the excitement of March seems to quickly wear off as the attention spans of the natives get bored and move to the next big thing.

From this writer’s perspective, it seems like the main issue is Phlorida’s ingrained obsession with vanity. They do what they can, however they can, to be noticed. Look at South Beach as a prime example. In and of itself, it’s nothing more than a very nice beach town found at any oceanfront state (the Hamptons in New York, Avalon in New Jersey, Nags Head in North Carolina, Myrtle Beach in South Carolina, amongst many others). However, the rich and famous hang out there, songs like “Miami” by Will Smith celebrate it, and TV shows like “Burn Notice” make it a living, breathing character along side the cast. That’s why people feel the need to go to South Beach; not because the sand is made of gold or it houses the Fountain of Youth, but because they can be seen. Clearwater Beach has just as nice – if not better – beaches, and there’s just as much money in those condos as the condos on the other side of the state, but it’s not as glorified. Why? Because no one will see you there except for that tourist from Montreal. That’s why the Rays can sell out the playoffs, but can’t get rid of tickets for a World Series rematch. That’s why the Lightning set attendance records at the Thunderdome (now known as Tropicana Field) during the playoffs, but can’t get more than 7,000 people to attend an average game at the Forum (neé Ice Palace). That’s why the Jaguars haven’t sold out a game in almost a year, and the Magic, on their historic playoff run, couldn’t get a full house until the Finals. Unless people will notice you, Phloridians just can’t waste their time with trivialities like sports. But then, this argument doesn’t hold much water when, in California, the geographical center of vanity, the Dodgers and Lakers sell out games constantly, does it?

So, what is it? Why are sports as a whole, not just the Rays and their red-headed adopted son known as the Trop, neglected in this state? Why can a meaningless Spring Training series between the Rays and the Phillies in Philadelphia sell out (about 90K people over two games), but the same series in St. Pete with both teams fighting for position in their respective division can’t draw more than 60K people for three? What makes people spend more time in a bikini or swim trunks getting the early stages of melanoma instead of spending money on organizations that provide money and supplies to both youth and adult non-profit organizations alike? Why do we, as a state, demand new facilities and/or locations for these teams, only to shun them the same way we did before with the same tired excuses, just amended to fit the new situation?

As someone who loves sports, I can’t understand it. All I can understand is no matter where the Rays new stadium is built, be it Tampa, Downtown St. Pete, or an island in the middle of Tampa Bay with off ramps right off the Howard Frankland and hydrofoils from locations every 2 miles along the bay’s shoreline for those who don’t want to drive, some group will complain about the distance, the money, the team’s performance; you know, the same excuses that have been used for years. And that’s just how Phlorida is; nothing changes, no matter how many people you try to cater to.

Monday Musings

Welcome to Monday Musings, a weekly section dedicated to pretty much anything that comes to my mind at random - which, if you know me, is pretty much like everything else I do.

How'd the weekend treat you? You see the Rays get their first 5-game win streak this season? Believe it or not, they're not doing that badly, considering they were only 7 games over .500 at the All-Star Break last year. The Phils also were able to get a win against those baastids from Boston, which the Rays desperately needed. (Speaking of, get ready for strictly-baseball talk 6/23-25...you know why!) Did anyone else see Pat Burrell sporting the goatee? Am I the only one who finds it a tad pornstar-ish and not really meant for him to wear? It was like the one time I tried to do that; God, it was awful! Some people just aren't meant to have facial hair, and that's a truth I accepted. As soon as your MC finds a pic of Pat the Bat as Ron Jeremy, you know he'll be posting it.

(Speaking of, I'm diligently trying to find a special gift for everyone to view. I'll let you know should I get my hands on it. If not, I'll put out a public appeal, but let's see where this road goes first. Stay tuned....)

Did anyone see the news this morning? Apparently, in our mayoral race here in St. Pete - the only election I've see that has more candidates than can fit on one webpage - one of the leading candidates, Deveron Gibbons, was endorsed by Gov. Charlie Crist. I'm going to keep my opinions to myself for right now on whom I endorse (I'll wait until the primary's closer), but I am going to question the logic behind accepting that nod. Gov. Crist, while once popular with more than 70% of the electorate, has since dropped to 62% since he decided to forgo a second term and run for US Senate, as well as sign SB 360, which basically reduces restrictions of development allowing urban density to be much larger than the road around it has the capacity for it. Basically put, a 12-story condo could be put on a 2-lane road and not need to expanded. That is not what Florida should, or can, become. So, while remains to be seen whether this endorsement will help or hurt Gibbons' campaign, I do know that his campaign now has that controversy attached to it, and that's not what he needs when running against a field of people that size. You need to stand out for the right reasons, and controversy's not it.

Alright, that's about enough musing for one Monday. Rays are off today, heading to Colorado, even though we're supposed to be playing the NL East this year and we won't be meeting the Braves, and so are Phils, who play Toronto at home tomorrow. Taking a cue from one of my friends, I'm gonna yank on YouTube and leave you with a special news bulletin:



You stay classy, St. Pete/Philly/wherever you call home.

Jumping In Head-First: A Primer

Alright, it looks like it's time to join the rest of the blogosphere and leave behind the random ramblings I posted on MySpace and make it happen on a more visible, "socially-acceptable" service. The reason I say it that way is because a friend of mine was dissuaded from reading my past rants and diatribes simply because it was on that site. There's nothing wrong with that train of thought, mind you, as I haven't been on MySpace in a while, and I've noticed a lot of my friends haven't, either. So, at some point, I'll migrate them over here for your viewing pleasure. You can see that they were helping me with an apparent evolution of my writing from - in retrospect - relatively crude and unrefined to...well, you be the judge.

I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself properly. My name's Jimbo and I'll be your MC for what I hope will be one of your bookmarks. If not, then I'll know for certain that I suck at writing and I'll go back to road tripping, which I know I'm good at. I'm a no-holds-barred kind of person and I expect, and look forward to, comments and discussions in the same light. I'm not easily offended, and because of that, I probably will offend unintentionally. Remember it's purely unintentional and I'll buy you a beer later to show you I still like you.

The topics discussed on this small slice of cyberspace will be like my personality: random, yet passionate. As the title implies, it'll do mainly with the goings-on of both my home region, the Delaware Valley, and the my current biosphere, Tampa Bay. Nothing is off-limits: sports, politics, happenings, history, and some broader topics, like music and national/international issues that affect us all. I know what you're thinking: "Jesus, not another one of these wackos that think he needs to be heard since the Adriana Huffington's and Perez Hilton's of the world got famous from it!" And you would be right. I mean, would anyone give a crap about any blogs at all if it wasn't for them (amongst better countless others), as reviled as they may or may not be, would the weblog be as popular as it is today? But am I doing this to be rich and famous? Hardly, as there are much easier ways: robbing banks and being a high-class mack/madam in large cities come to mind. I'm doing it for the same core reason each and everyone of us does this: because we can. Who said philosophy had to be complicated?

Here's where I have to give credit where credit is due, so you can skip to the next paragraph if you're not listed (warning: I'm just listing their nicknames - in no particular order, just the order I think of them - so no sappy emotional stuff needed nor warranted; I didn't just win a Grammy®, after all):
My Mom, who's a lot like Eileen Ripley, heroine of the Alien Quadrillogy
Hopper
Rabid Nick/Impoetry
B-Love
Richie Poo
Zombie Princess
Tonilicious
Becky
and anyone else I may have missed

That should about cover it today. Your MC has to leave for work soon, but he encourages you to watch both the Rays beat up the oh-my-God-can't-anyone-euthanize-them-and-spare-their-misery Nationals in St. Pete and the Phils and Red Sox slug it out yet again on South Broad Street; both games are on at 1:35pm today, so get your picture-in-picture ready and root, root, root for your home team - whichever one it may be. For me, I'm still debating that dilemma in my head.