St. Pete On Offense

Here’s hoping that the name Kenny Irby becomes not just well-known around here, but synonymous with success. Irby, an African-American pastor and faculty member of the Poynter Institute, has now added a third identity: community intervention director for the city of St. Petersburg.

Arguably, it’s the most important hat he wears, because he’s being charged with being the point man for youth outreach as a means to curb the alarming increase in young people, notably young black people on St. Pete’s south side, who are in danger of winding up in jail or dead. A recent spate of gun violence prompted Mayor Rick Kriseman to create this new position.

If Kirby, who has been called a “leader” and a “motivator” as well as tough and sensitive, is to succeed, it will be due, in large part, to the cooperation and coordination he receives from both the Pinellas School District and the St. Petersburg Police Department. Failing schools and a hike in the juvenile crime rate are hardly coincidental.

And while Kirby hasn’t said so, he could also use the high-profile help–and concomitant pulpit–of the Black Lives Matter movement. If Kirby is to succeed, he needs all available hands on board. Success is ultimately undermined by the cherry-picking-of-lives-tragically-lost agenda.

“This is about the people of a community reclaiming their community,” underscored Deputy Mayor Kanika Tomalin. “This is about them saying, ‘Not our sons.'”

Kirby deserves the community’s best communal response–from parents to police. And if he is successful, the multi-pronged approach with the right point man could be a model–and inspiration–for other cities with similar demographics and crime statistics.

Peer Mentors Matter Most

The most welcome sign that this school district continues to move farther from what the Gates Foundation wrought is news that peer evaluators will become a less-than-lamented thing of the past.

They can go back to the classroom full time or seek promotions. Some will likely apply for “teacher talent developer” positions that will incorporate both teaching and teacher-training–but no classroom evaluations, which were a source of morale problems. Only the tone deaf and the Kool Aid dispensers missed that dynamic.

It’s too bad that grant money and Gates cachet were so influential in detouring the district from a common sense approach to instructional accountability and better teacher performance. Anyone with serious teaching experience knows the difference between “peer evaluators” and “peer mentors.”

It’s more than a semantic distinction. It can be the difference between resentment/intimidation and gratitude/counsel. Taking a teacher under a wing or taking them to a pedagogic woodshed.

As for the evaluating, per se, that should be more the purview of well-chosen, properly-promoted department heads rather than some hybrid evaluators with built-in blow-back from evaluatees.

No Token Gesture

However it happened–born of political posturing and rancorous disagreements initially–Tampa’s new police review board is now up and running. The time for debate is over. It’s the societal times we live in, and Tampa doesn’t lack for combustible elements.

It was needed; now it’s here. And the board is no token gesture to placate activists. It’s a representative cross section of this community and reflects the real world. We have reason to be optimistic.

Next Generation Ballpark Coming For Rays

Remember when going to a baseball game was all about, well, the baseball game? The diamond raison d’être. It was all about the home team, the players, the plays, the strategies, the umpires’ calls. It’s what you cheered, yelled, celebrated, cursed and booed about. And hot dog hawkers helped. That was old-school interactive.

Not quite like that anymore. Even Fenway and Wrigley have made major concessions.

I was reflecting on this while noting the Rays incipient search for a “next generation ballpark.” While most attention is focused on a site, funding, partnerships, population centers and transit options, the Rays have also made it clear that there’s another priority. Their post-Trop home will have to cater to 21st century baseball fans.

According to team officials, the new facility will “need to have a collection of intimate neighborhoods within the ballpark.” In stadia-speak, that means plenty of bars and galleries, where fans can congregate while still in sight of the action as well as ever more sophisticated “fun zones” for kids. It’s also a given that technological bells and whistles–think unlimited smart-phone-app scenarios–will be part of the generational repackaging.

Some personal context.

Back in the late 1990s, I was living near Atlanta and took my mother to Turner Field to catch a Braves-Mets game. She was a baseball fan dating back to the 1950 “Whiz Kids” days of the Philadelphia Phillies. My dad played on Army base teams with several future members of the Phillies and hard-core Phillie fandom was forever cemented.

Back to the Ted. By about the third inning, we had both noticed a pattern. At any one time, no more than about a third of the crowd was seated. Concession stands with regional treats and interactive inflatable games were the draw.

Little did we know that we were witnessing an evolving new normal. Fans don’t just show up and root and banter about the game. They put it on cruise control and pivot out of their assigned seating.

We also noted a protocol change.

Baseball is a relatively pedestrian game. There are all kinds of predictable breaks in the action: between pitches, between batters, between innings. But that had no bearing on the “Excuse me-heads up-watch it” chorus of those continuously recycling for fried chicken, Bud Lights or local hookups. Beyond annoying if you were there to actually, well, see the game.

Then there was a play in the 6th inning that galvanized our attention. It was a scoreless game. A Braves’ runner was called out while trying to steal second base. It was close. The batter had just missed strike three and the throw was in time. A classic “strike-him-out/throw him out” highlight  play.

But the runner may have gotten a hand in before the tag was applied on his thigh. I prided myself on pointing that out to my mother who said: “Let’s see what the (scoreboard) replay shows.” Indeed.

Now this was before formal challenges and call reversals, but there were still highlight replays. This surely was one. Only problem: You only get so much time between innings, and everything had been pre-programmed: from advertisements to a trivia contest. No time to show the “strike-him-out/throw-him-out” play. It was merely a highlight–not a revenue-producing ad or a form of interactive fan fun.

We looked at each other, excused ourselves to pass the one fan in our row, did our seventh-inning stretching at the concession stand and headed back to Marietta. I forget who won. Didn’t matter then either.

And little did we know. We hadn’t simply been watching a baseball game. We had been part of an experience.

One that is still evolving.

Gasparilla Postscript

*Gasparilla is now the third largest parade in the country–after the Parade of Roses in Pasadena and Macy’s in New York. But a sure sign of the big time is when you attract the full complement of sign-carrying, street-corner evangelists. “Repent Or Perish” adds a nice, perverse touch. “Trust Jesus: Ask Me Why You Deserve Hell” could actually drive you to drink.

Personally, I preferred the purely secular “Time Flies When You’re Having Rum.”

*Given the challenges, uh, inherent in Gasparilla, it’s hard to believe no one has thought of a catheter concession. Arguably, even more important than funnel cakes and Bud Light. At some point, seems like a practical alternative to a long-lined Port-o-Let or a grassy knoll. Maybe souvenir naming rights could be part of the package. Call it “Go Hillsborough.”

* Allowing police officers to use a residence bathroom: There’s no greater look of gratitude.

* Generally speaking, spectators who attend Gasparilla for the parade are not an issue. Even those who linger late. Those on a constant loop through alleys and side streets, seemingly oblivious to an actual parade–that can’t be seen from there–are the problematic sorts.

* Police can’t be everywhere, so there are still trespissers–although not like you used to see. But context is important. Ever since the Boston Marathon, the foremost priority is ultimate national security. Security cameras, hovering helicopters and strategic deployments are not policing drunken disorderlies.

* There are plenty of city-provided trash receptacles. Too bad more aren’t utilized. It’s not all drunks with a bad aim.

Tampa Theatrics

Over recent years the relationship between City Hall and historic Tampa Theatre has been an amiable one with bottom-line considerations. The city owns the building and allows the Tampa Theatre Foundation to use it rent free. It also kicks in an annual subsidy of about $100,000 for the iconic structure. It helps, as Tampa Theatre is constantly hunting for grants and gifts to renovate, upgrade and meet the serious infrastructure needs of a 90-year-old building.

Another Tampa Theatre need: alleviate administrative staff crowding. It was recently addressed when its Foundation board approved the purchase of an office condominium on the southern flank of the theatre building. The money will come from ticket revenue.

Only one problem. Apparently no one gave Mayor Bob Buckhorn a heads up. He reacted the way any fiscally-conservative mayor–who’s also a sound-bite maven–would when blindsided. To wit: “I’m going to look very carefully at any additional funding requests for the Tampa Theatre, when they can’t pay for their basic upkeep but they’re out there buying real estate they don’t need.” Ouch.

In fairness to Tampa Theatre, it has more than a dozen employees crammed into ad hoc theatre spaces, included converted storage areas. Some work out of a “green room” used by performers. But when your existence is so dependent on governmental cooperation/budget priorities, the onus is on you to make sure that the most accountable, high-profile, public official is always in the loop.

And, yes, it would have helped if Gov. Rick Scott had not vetoed the $1 million that state lawmakers had allocated for Tampa Theatre last year.

Moon Shot Player

By now, we’re used to the familiar, local refrains of ballyhoo–from City Hall to Visit Tampa Bay–about this evolving market. From Riverwalk pizzazz and Vinikville plans to millennial magnet and host of next year’s national college football championship game.

But it’s really special to also be able to say that one of our own is prominently on the case for the cause of curing cancer. Tampa’s Moffitt Cancer Center, which has already been in touch with the office of Vice President Joe “Moon Shot for Cancer” Biden, expects to be a leader in a ginned-up national effort.

Plaudits to Moffitt’s executive vice president and center director Thomas Sellers for taking the initiative to contact the Obama administration about utilizing the Oncology Research Information Exchange Network, a Moffitt-founded consortium of 11 nationally-recognized cancer centers.

When President Barack Obama gave that “moon shot” shout-out for a cancer cure at his State of the Union address, the folks at Moffitt–not yet 30 years old–knew they would be major players. But this isn’t about synergistic, economic development. Not this time.

This is about literal life. There’s no better reason to feel Tampa proud.

Children’s Parade Celebration

Time was when Gasparilla was a day off for Hillsborough County employees and a weekday, Tampa-centric parade. It was a demographically-challenged event known for its overindulgences.

Now it’s the third largest parade in the country. Moreover, it’s also a “season,” according to Visit Tampa Bay, one that carries a $1.7 million marketing campaign to lure visitors from out of town, out of state and even out of the country. It’s a season that lasts two months and is dotted with community and cultural events around town. The estimated economic impact exceeds $20 million.

Gasparilla has certainly evolved–and that includes serious attention to policing in the last few years. Krewes are diverse in all the ways diversity allows.

But nothing, frankly, has been a more notable upgrade than the Children’s Parade.

It’s no longer a wholesome–but token–sop to the sober. It’s no longer just a nice little parade with a Preschooler’s Stroll and a Bicycle and Pedestrian Safety Rodeo. Now it’s a nice big, family-friendly parade that also attracts up to 200,000 spectators, 100 floats, 50 participating krewes–plus marching bands, dance squads, an air show and a “Piratechnic” extravaganza. No need for a “safe house” or alcohol zoning.

But the best part is this: It looks like Tampa. Black and white and brown. Parents and their kids. Enjoying the day. Catching beads without an agenda. Celebrating where we are and who we are.

Buckhorn’s Pragmatic Politics

This is just a gut feeling. I think Mayor Bob Buckhorn privately hopes the media will crop extra close those photos where he shares a forum with Gov. Rick Scott. Case in point, Scott’s hyper-inflated, “Million Miles for a Million Jobs” bus tour that recently brought him–along with Lt. Gov. Carlos López Cantera–to Tampa.

All but hard-core Scott supporters see through this self-congratulatory drive-by that makes no acknowledgement of context: most notably the national economic recovery and the dubious quality of many of the jobs added in Florida. No reason to think the mayor has been sipping the gubernatorial Kool-Aid just because he periodically pops up at Scott’s local appearances.

But Mayor Bob, a fiscally-prudent Democrat with designs on being the next governor, is also a political hybrid and pragmatist–and loyal. He can attend fundraisers for Pam Bondi and Hillary Clinton. And he will do what he has to–shy of recruiting a Cuban consulate–for the sake of his city. He goes after the business–from Riverwalk grants to Bollywood conventions.

He appreciates that Tallahassee was a necessary partner in TIA expansion. Ditto for a key role in USF Medical School’s plans to relocate to downtown. And the mayor approves of the $250 million in economic development spending that Scott has been pushing. But, yeah, there’s some stuff, including a certain high-speed rail project and a gun-free zone around the 2012 Republican convention, that didn’t go well.

Pols remember all that–but they also know that carrying a grudge can only make it worse. This governor, who hasn’t always been helpful and has earned the rebuke of many, is also in a position to help the cities of some mayors. That’s all that matters. Even if it requires all those enabling photo ops.

Koetter’s Impressive Debut

If head-coach, first impressions are worth anything, the Bucs’ new man in charge, Dirk Koetter, is undefeated. That is the upshot after his debut press conference. His football acumen and his track record speak for themselves. But Koetter’s candid, engaging and emotional delivery spoke volumes. As in genuine.

And for those questioning Buccaneer General Manager Jason Licht’s nominal search effort that didn’t include reaching out to Alabama’s Nick Saban, remember this: Coaching at the collegiate and professional levels are two different worlds. Three who couldn’t cut it at the pro level: Lou Holtz, Steve Spurrier and, yes, Nick Saban.