Looking at Plan R...R for Rowdies

Hi there!

This might blow your flipping mind, but I'm not only gonna post something, but I'm gonna post something that's not related to 007! I know, shocker, right?

Yesterday, Tampa Bay Rays owner Stu Sternberg told the Hillsborough County Commission that "Major League Baseball at this point no longer believes in the Tampa Bay area." Not just St. Petersburg, but Tampa, Clearwater, and everywhere else talk has been discussed about building a new facility. This appears to be why (as backed up by St. Pete mayor Bill Foster) the contract at Tropicana Field is being enforced so severely by the City of St. Pete. Basically put, without that contract, MLB would have left Tampa Bay high and dry a few years ago.

I've advocated a new downtown St. Petersburg ballpark numerous times, pointing out the merits of pre- and postgame entertainment options afforded in such a location. However, I've also pointed out that no matter where the new ballpark is built — be it downtown St. Pete, downtown Tampa, or anywhere in between — mass transit is the vital key to making this whole thing work.

That said, Sternberg also reiterated the long-held position that he and the team will only look at any potential sites if all potential sites (including Tampa and Hillsborough County) are allowed to be explored. St. Pete's official position has been to restrict sites to within St. Pete city limits and bordering Pinellas communities. That stalemate looks nowhere near being cleared up. So, where does that leave us?

Personally, I think we start planning on a Plan B here in St. Pete. While we may ultimately be the best location in the Bay Area to house the Rays, it will never be known if the Rays aren't allowed to explore. And before you know it, 2027 will get here way too quickly, and we'll all be left holding the bag they mentally abandoned oh so long ago.

So, I'm willing to break my long-held belief that the Rays should be St. Pete's in perpetuity and look at the "what if?" of the Rays leaving St. Pete...but with a twist.

"What do we do to placate the Rays and keep St. Pete's leverage" you ask? Well, the first thing we have to do as a city is allow the Rays to look anywhere they want — with a condition. If they want the privilege of looking at Tampa, they have to sign an agreement requiring them to help St. Pete not only draft a rehabilitation plan for Al Lang Field to attract an MLB team from Arizona for spring training, but also help design (not pay for costs, etc.) a new Rowdies stadium in downtown St. Pete. If they want the privilege to look outside of Tampa Bay, but still in Florida (Orlando, perhaps?), they have to also agree — in addition to the aforementioned plans — to help recruit both a spring training team from Arizona and promise to move their (either the moved team's or the Rays') High-A minor league team to the newly-rehabbed Al Lang, should they move. Do they want to look outside of Florida entirely? Okay, but they're paying for at least 50% the rehab costs of Al Lang — as well as take care of all of the above.

(Point of clarification: those actions above would only go into effect if the Rays actually left St. Petersburg's boundaries. They would only need to sign agreements to look in those places, not actually make progress on the above at this time.)

I made mention of the Rowdies in those terms. That is because, unlike Sternberg and MLB, Andy Nestor and the NASL have fully and wholeheartedly embraced the city of St. Pete and all they have done for the rebirth of Tampa Bay's favorite soccer team. They have dealt with playing soccer on an odd-sided pitch in a baseball facility with nary a complaint, and enjoy everything the City has done to market and cater to them. Sadly, though, if they ever hope for true success (i.e. making a jump to Major League Soccer), they will need to get a new home. The Rowdies have pledged themselves to Al Lang until at least 2016, but they should get a new home around the end of the current contract. That said, it will be a lot cheaper to build a soccer stadium...and as luck would have it, the land is available downtown.

It's true. It might be a tight fit, but to make the pitch (the field for all those who don't speak "soccer-ese") the FIFA recommended size of 105m x 68m (roughly 115 yds by 74 yds), a stadium could be built on a couple plots of land that are mostly vacant, save for a dentist, between 2nd St and 3rd St S with 4th Ave S to the south and the University Plaza Shopping Center to the north. Design work would need to be done (I'm definitely not an architect), but I'm sure tighter places have been pitched — and built successfully — before.

So, if the Rays wish to ignore any and all proposals that are pitched to them by both the City of St. Pete and private businesses in and around the city, they should be allowed to look, but in a way that still prevents St. Pete from becoming irrelevant, something that this current government is doing by being the same spoiled kid the Rays are. Both sides need to give, or not only will the Trop become an empty dome, but we'll have to deal with Plan C: life without the Rays in Tampa Bay at all.

Or worse, and something that will resonate through, and continuously haunt, St. Pete for generations: a jaded Rowdies organization whose patience will run out, leaving an even worse Plan D...no seasonal sports in St. Pete at all.

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.

How to Make Friends and Alienate People

"Any search for a new ballpark site needs to explore all of the Tampa Bay region. This is what we repeated to Mayor Foster today. We thanked him for his gesture, and we conveyed to him again that we will consider sites in St. Petersburg and Gateway when we are considering all potential sites in Tampa Bay." - Matt Silverman, Tampa Bay Rays Team President

With that statement, Stuart Sternberg and his team of upper managers have not only said both Tropicana Field and downtown St. Petersburg are done, but they also want nothing to do with Pinellas County at this point, as well. He and his associates have managed to insult, degrade, and belittle the team's only allies for the last 13 years. Tampa has said repeatedly that they cannot and will not pay for a stadium on their side of the Bay, yet he continues to push the issue. Why, knowing all that, would be tempted to bite the hand that feeds him?

Almost three years ago, the then-Devil Rays gave us fans two things to cheer for: a new name and color scheme, as well as plans for a new, waterfront, open-air ballpark right in the heart of St. Petersburg. It was a technological marvel, promising the freedom of open-air baseball, with fresh breezes off the Bay and air-conditioned corridors to keep the temperature in check, and the protection of a weatherproof fabric retractable roof that would blend seamlessly into the skyline and prevent inevitable rainouts. It would be built on the longtime home of Spring Training in St. Pete, Al Lang Field, a place where baseball was played for three generations. Great teams from the Miracle Mets, Ozzie Smith's Cards, eight of the Yankees' championship teams, and the 1951 NY Giants' pennant winners, not counting all the teams that played on this hallowed ground as visitors over the decades. This ballpark even experienced an actual live-birth of a new team, the Gulf Coast League Devil Rays, the necessary precursor to today's American League Rays, that first took the field in 1996 on this site.

So, it has the pedigree and it has the views of downtown and the Bay, but does it have the space for something this size? The drawings presented to the public showed that, with minimal disruption to the original footprint, the dream stadium of the Rays would fit. Yes, it would require a 600+/- square foot section of the Bay to be filled in near the dogleg on Bayshore Dr SE, but it would guarantee St. Pete would be the home of Major League Baseball in Tampa Bay for a very long time. With ample parking downtown, connection to Interstate 275 via two connecting freeways, and access to the existing bus hub in downtown - with space available in the parking lots of the St. Petersburg Times for an intermodal transit hub when rail gets going in a decade or so - what could possibly be the downside to this?

Enter 1 Beach Drive, St. Petersburg, FL, 33701 aka the Bayfront Tower.

What seemed like a surefire way for the city to get the 80 acres the Trop sits on back onto the tax roles and a permanent home to the area's "boys of summer" quickly turned awry. Betting against old, rich, blue hairs with nothing to do and all the time in the world to do it is a mistake. After a year of debates, protests, campaigns for and against the proposal, and being a hot-button issue in the mayoral race, the Rays officially tabled the idea indefinitely. What seemed like the right thing for a city on the rise was now just a smoldering pile of ash. The dream stadium would stay just that: an eternal dream that would never come about.

Fast forward to June 2010, where the Rays - which had been dodging the question since their first proposal died, who insisted they're not demanding anything but "we will not be playing in Tropicana Field in 2027" - all of a sudden demanded something: a new home, and soon. But it came with a caveat: no more talk of downtown St. Pete, and probably no more talk of St. Pete as a whole. The place where the impossible dream started will no longer the be the home of the next dream. Just like a jilted lover left on his knee after his girlfriend said, "No," the Rays are doing what they can to cut ties with St. Pete, including possibly spiting them by leaving the county entirely. What once seemed like a sure thing less than 24 months prior turned into, for lack of a better word, a clusterfuck.

So, Stu has done everything right to this point: he made his case, brought forth a proposal, accepted the first defeat gracefully, plotted his next move, and pulled the trigger. Hell, it could even be argued that his refusal to accept the first (of many to come, I'm sure) compromise by the City since this all started was smart. As a good friend of mine pointed out, "It doesn't matter to me where they go as long as it's not out of state or too far out of the TB area." And despite my rage for the cavalier attitude in Stu's blatant shunning of St. Pete, he's right: we do need to do whatever it takes to keep them, as they are our team, and to let the Rays go to Portland or Charlotte because of our petty parochialism would be a PR disaster of epic proportions for the region as a whole. No one would ever want to move to such a "spiteful, ungrateful, and shameless" area; we've already gotten a black eye for - no matter if it's justified or not - our treatment of the homeless population, so we shouldn't give the national media any other reason to turn potential new residents away.

That all said, St. Pete shouldn't be sold out, either, to make the "spirit of cooperation" work. As I've said previously, we stand to lose the most should they leave our city, as we we've been the ones putting out the money to make the team viable in the area. As evidenced by their television ratings, they are definitely a team with a loyal and deep fan base, despite the accusations by know-nothings from other regions, so it's not a case of overall apathy. In fact, I think they could do just as well, or maybe even marginally better, over in downtown Tampa, though not as good as people are alluding. (Let's face it: until mass transit is up and running, people just don't like the hassle of driving and parking along with 17,000 others.)

Without some kind of guarantees in a new contract, however, St. Pete loses something more than status as a "major league city" by forfeiting the Rays to Tampa or anywhere else: they lose the revenue brought in, and in the end, that's all that should matter to the City. There's a guaranteed 81 days a year - in the middle of a summer season that's brutal for natives, let alone visitors - where people will be downtown. People are spending more time downtown since parking is harder and harder to get at the Trop, and they make more impulse purchases based on what they see when they walk by, which is what fuels areas around the county like Wrigleyville, the Inner Harbor, and the Gas Lamp Quarter.

Losing that guaranteed draw will cause irreparable harm to the overall economy of the city; the Suncoast Dome was built to get the city out of that same economic disaster in the first place. So, that's the main reason Foster needs to try and keep them in St. Pete first, but if they can't (and without a proposal by the City the team can't refuse) they need to focus on protecting our interests. Require any negotiations with other cities include a guaranteed percentage of the revenue coming to St. Pete. In return, we invest that same percentage rate into the final cost of the new stadium. We force the first cooperative effort by any of our cities since the bridges were built, which in turn could lead to more cross-Bay relationships, including mass transit, and finally bring us on-par with other metros across the country. Doing so guarantees St. Pete much-needed revenue for as long as the stadium stands, the Rays get their dream stadium in any city they want, and the new home of the Rays is still within 60 minutes of the loyal fan base it has painstakingly created over the past 13 years.

I'll be the first to admit it: I'm spoiled. I have baseball in my backyard and don't have to sacrifice much to be there; sadly, not everyone's that lucky. However, this is a very spread-out area, so getting a stadium near the vast majority of the population - like it is in cities like Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, and Los Angeles - is near impossible. To make it all work, we all need to sacrifice something we cherish. For me, it's the stubbornness of letting them leave my grasp and following them wherever they end up. For St. Pete, it's the civic pride and bragging rights they bring. For people more than 15 miles from the stadium, it's the idea that "if it's not 5 minutes away, it's too far," and tossing that out the window.

We cannot, however, sacrifice everything for something, and when being put in an unreasonable position of "bad guy" solely for the "greater good" without any chance to ask for anything in return is unacceptable. If you'd like to be a good negotiator, Stu, next time St. Pete comes to the table with a proposal, understand the City will inevitably lose massive amounts of cash based on your move and offer them a bone in return for their cooperation. You'd be surprised how far you can go with a little empathy.

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.

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.