skip to main |
skip to sidebar
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.
Being a Rays fan is hard; anyone who denies that is lying to themselves. We can never do anything right in the eyes of the world: we're a second-class team (there are three banners hanging from the rafters after April Fools' Day - and this isn't a joke - that will prove otherwise) playing in a second-class city (and Arlington, for some reason, isn't?) that has a second-class stadium (with guaranteed clear, 72°F weather 24/7 in the lightning capital of the US) with a second-class fan base that refuses to support the team. Cowbells aside, the Rays fans I've had the pleasure of meeting are as die-hard and passionate as their counterparts in long-established northern cities. Yet, for one tired reason, we're the most loathed fans in all of sports, even more so than Eagles' fans: our apparent apathy toward a stellar team.
This, however, needs to serve as a warning: the appearance of apathy – no matter how justified – will not only serve as fodder for the sports talk shows across the country, but keep true talent away from St. Petersburg and will drive outstanding homegrown talent away.
Baseball, like any other business, runs franchises for one reason and one reason only: to make as much of a profit as humanly possible. Do you firmly believe there are franchises in Toronto, Minneapolis, and Anaheim for the "betterment of the community," or to be an "exciting entertainment option"? No; they're strategically located across North America to get as much money as they can handle. They do this by selling merchandise, having broadcast deals with certain television networks, charging for seating to each and every game, and selling concessions at the stadium to keep those patrons fat and happy. They know that these four things will guarantee they can make ungodly amounts of money, and that's a fact we must live with, not just for this sport, but every sport in the world.
That said, the flip-side to such seemingly-rampant capitalism is extra money to invest into the team in hopes of not only winning a championship, but also to increase the profits at an even greater rate. Buying their merchandise is a great start to increasing their take, but only a fraction of what you pay goes to the team; a greater portion goes to MLB, with even more going directly to the manufacturer. Broadcast rights are a great moneymaker, too, but they're based on pre-negotiated rates set years in advance – long before you even think of turning on the game – so any new advertising dollars the network may get go directly into their pockets, not the team's.
The only sure thing that you, as a fan, can do to make sure the team has enough money to operate in the manner you wish is to go to the games, plain and simple. The team makes the most money off of ticket sales, with concessions helping to pad the coffers even more. The more money the team makes, the more they can use in negotiating new, more-expensive contracts to attract high-quality talent to sunny St. Pete or keep the ones they already have.
"But the ticket prices are so expensive, especially in this economy, and I just can't afford to go!" I get that it's a burden; I'm living paycheck-to-paycheck myself and have a tough time meeting my bills on time. I also realize that by not giving the Rays money, they don't get to keep the Carl Crawfords and the Rafael Sorianos for anything more than either the initial rookie-arbitration periods or quick forays. The prices keep rising because of the Bostons, the Washingtons, and the New Yorks of the world paying players asinine amounts of money for mediocre talent, thereby causing the free agency market to be skewed out of whack (basically, it's a metaphor of the housing market that's caused us all to be paycheck-to-paycheck...if we're lucky). Blame MLB's Bud Selig all you want for not forcing a salary cap to be in place in lieu of higher-than-necessary ticket prices, but you can only blame yourself for letting our beloved outfielder slip through our fingers.
The question over attendance no longer pertains to the stadium drama; last night – the day that will be remembered in infamy by Rays fans the world over as the day our 2008 American League Championship seems decades ago, as we had a triple-shot of reality – proves once-and-for-all the question over attendance is really about getting talent here in the first place. Will we really want the team if we know the homegrown talent we've spent our blood, sweat, tears, and money on will just divest them in a few years time? If they're going to do that, will this area want to put out the commitment of tax revenue on a new stadium? Would you want to spend money to see a team that's dismantled due to budgetary constraints every few years?
The Rays brought up the stadium issue with the downtown St. Pete stadium on the waterfront in 2007 for a couple of reasons, but there was one that was so subtle, it wasn't caught until today: if they would have built it like they wanted, it'd be open 16 months from now, and Carl Crawford would be starting in its outfield – in blue and gold. We may not have been able to give him the big payday like they did in Beantown, but we'd have something they wouldn't: a new home. But that's the past and there's no point in lamenting it.
Let's learn from this mistake and prevent its repeat in 2016, when Evan Longoria's contract comes up for renewal. Sure, it sounds like a long time away, but take this into account: we signed him for 8 years at $44,000,000, and something tells me a Rookie of the Year and a few Gold Gloves will let him become worth a tad more than that. Knowing this now, however, will help us plan for its inevitability. Go to the games, spend some money at the stadium, and remember that you're doing your part to make sure Longo – as well as other young gems like David Price, B.J. Upton, Jeremy Hellickson, and many others – will be lifelong Rays.
Sure, it may be a sacrifice for you and your family to drive over the big, scary bridge, but this is what we have to deal with right now. My feelings on the whole stadium saga are well-documented on my other posts here on this blog, so I'm not gonna take one side or the other on this post; you just need to suck it up and support your team more than just thinking you're supporting the TV contract they grossly under-negotiated. The time for playing armchair manager is over; it may prove you're a loyal fan, but as much as it sucks to say, loyalty doesn't pay the bills.
Otherwise, when 2014 comes and the begging and the pleading by the Rays' PR department over those last four years failed to get you to the Trop, realize it's too late at that point to stop the ball from rolling and Longoria will be on his two-year long farewell tour. Just don't bitch to me when he's wearing pinstripes in 2017.
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.
