We all have stuff we keep on keeping. Call it memorabilia. Call it personal litter.
Some of it winds up on a shelf somewhere next to a cool bobblehead. Some of it remains in that attic shoe box.
And every now and then we’re reminded of its relevance when something is retrieved from exile. Here’s one such–recently unearthed amid abandoned postcards and hotel stationery. It’s a commemorative card–in the shape and format of old baseball cards–from March 14, 1990.
It was a souvenir to welcome the formally attired guests to the 43rd Annual Governor’s Baseball Dinner–held for the first time at the new Florida Suncoast Dome Tampa Bay in St. Petersburg. Appropriately enough, Tampa’s Bob Martinez was Florida’s presiding governor. I was there because I was the editor of a business magazine that had a cover story on “The Bay Area’s Big League Pitch”–one that also featured a mock-up of what the Dome would look like when configured for baseball.
The card had a picture of the Dome on the front and some bullet points on the flip side. In order: *”MAJOR LEAGUE COMMITMENT … 22,697 Season Ticket reservations sold in 30 days. *United Political and Corporate support coupled with a dedicated local ownership group. *MAJOR LEAGUE MARKET … 13th largest media market in America. Florida’s number one metro in America’s 4th most populous state. *MAJOR LEAGUE FACILITY … A 43,000 seat baseball showcase.”
The facility had been built on spec–despite the less-than-encouraging words of Major League Baseball Commissioner Peter Ueberroth–because, damn it, it was about time something important came to St. Pete. A football stadium, a state university main campus, an international airport, a major amusement park–they had all gone to the Tampa side of Tampa Bay. That was the mindset; that was the motivation; that was the mistake.
Amid all the pomp, ceremony and amped small talk about spring training history and MLB expansion plans and relocation rumors, there was no ignoring the elephant in the room, even then. A free-lance writer friend and I shared pachyderm intimations over liberally-poured Merlot.
Spring-training tradition, which is tourist driven, does not equate to prime time. St. Petersburg, on the fringe of an asymmetrical market with deceptive marketplace numbers, a ton of parochialism, residents with allegiances to other places, lifestyle competition from golf, tennis and fishing and a dearth of corporate headquarters, seemed problematic.
But then this is the way journalists think. They’re not card-carrying chamber of commerce reps for a reason.
As it turned out, the city unsuccessfully wooed the Chicago White Sox, the Seattle Mariners, the San Francisco Giants and the Minnesota Twins and watched Colorado and Miami grab the first expansion slots in 1993.
But in 1995 the Vince Naimoli ownership group was awarded (along with Arizona) an expansion franchise. One that had been in competition with Frank Morsani’s Tampa Bay Baseball Group, which wanted to build a privately-financed stadium in Tampa. MLB did Morsani–and this region–wrong. Three years and $85 million in Dome renovations later, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays were reality.
The resultant, long-term lease was the quid pro quo for letting the Rays keep the bulk of revenues from a public building. There were no attendance clauses for the Rays to invoke just in case.
Well, “just in case” happened. In 1999 attendance nosedived from a 31,600 average in the debut year to 21,600. Not even the novelty of Major League Baseball was enough to prevent the onset of the new normal in year two. Not even a (2008) World Series season (22,200) moved the numbers appreciably. Now the Rays regularly finish last in attendance among the 30 MLB franchises. Last year it was 15,400.
As I look at my Florida Suncoast Dome souvenir and recall those conversational misgivings, I don’t feel particularly prescient. Just perplexed.
This is still a sprawling area that lacks mass transit. St. Pete is still on the western fringe. This is also a market where only 600,000 people currently live within a 30-minute drive of the Trop, the fewest among all MLB franchises. And it’s still corporate headquarters-challenged. Etc.
In short, when so many factors still militate against success, you must knock it out of the park on the one critical variable you can control: stadium venue. The recent vote by the St. Pete City Council assures the Rays the right to look across the bay. It doesn’t certify success, but it does insure that the future-less status quo will no longer prevail.
But there are no guarantees. Just ask Frank Morsani.