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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.
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:
- 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,
- 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
- 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....
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.
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!
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!
I've been scarce lately. It's not intentional, as I truly do want to write for the 4 people that have bookmarked my page, as well as myself. However, I really am at a loss lately for topics to discuss. I don't want my blog to be a regurgitation of other blogs, which in and of themselves are also regurgitations of others blogs. I don't want to be an RSS-proxy of news topics, either. As my orange juice post shows, I can find (relatively) fresh and original ideas to talk about. In spite of that, I am at a loss lately.
So, it's time for more (in deep movie announcer voice) "audience participation-tion-tion-tion!" With that in mind, what topics can you think of for your man Jimbo? The only rule is it has to have some connection to the Delaware Valley, the Tampa Bay area, and/or baseball. Hopefully, you guys can throw some stuff my way soon!
