Riffing on the Rays
May 27, 2008 at 1:50 pm by Eric SniderI think I crossed a tipping point over the weekend. It’s exciting, and a little scary.
As recently as a few weeks ago, I would sort of stumble across Rays games on TV, watch a few innings until I lost interest. Kept up with ’em in the papers. It was about last week that I started checking out page 2 of the sports section to see who they were playing and when/where the game was on. If I thought of it, I’d tune in for the beginning of the game, watch a few frames. Hang around if the game was good, but hardly ever catch the whole contest.
That’s changed.
On Sunday and Monday, I actively sought out the game on TV and made sure I was in front of my TV at start time. Last night, I watched eight whole innings — until the score was 7-1 and the game well in hand. This is even more remarkable because Game 4 of the Celtics/Pistons game overlapped. I put the hoops game on picture-in-picture for a while, but bagged it and just checked on it between Rays innings. Amazing: I never thought I’d choose an early-season baseball game over an NBA playoff game.
So it’s official: I’ve gone from trying-to-be-a-Rays fan to Rays fan. This isn’t as purely euphoric as it may seem. Rays fandom comes with some risk. I’ve lived in Tampa Bay since the mid-’70s, and have been through the conversion to fandom with the Bucs and the Lightning.
The Bucs, that was easy — I’m a football fan. As soon as they became respectable — and ditched those sherbet-colored uniforms — I was in. I’m still in, even when they suck. The Lightning was a flirtation — it was all about their Stanley Cup run, but as soon as that was over, I reverted to my non-hockey-fan ways.
Baseball’s different. I grew up with it, of course, but never played it past Little League and for years have been singing the baseball-is-boring tune. But baseball’s not boring anymore. Well, that’s not true — it’s still pretty dull, except when the Rays are playing.
Yes, Tampa Bay plays a comparatively exciting brand of ball, but for me that’s the least of it. It’s this simple: It’s about the winning. It’s about our local team, so woeful for so long, having the best record in the Major Leagues. It’s about being astonished. And on a deeper level, it’s about being proud of living in the ‘burg, about not being a laughingstock.
And then it’s about: Will it last? That’s where the trepidation comes in. Over the weekend, I watched a couple of professional arguers on an ESPN talk show say that the Rays would be finito by July. It’s tempting to respond with “Bullshit, asshole, they’ll be around in July and beyond!” But I can’t wholly sell that argument. Part of me thinks those talking heads could be right, that this miraculous Rays run is destined to end, and end badly.
On the other hand … the way the Rays are playing these days does not look like a mere hot streak. It looks like a good team that expects to win. I can’t quite shake that feeling of “when will it all come tumbling down?” — but when I look at their players and the different facets of their game, it all looks pretty damn good. The Rays play is so unprecedented that it could be legit.
So it gets more exciting still, and scarier. The Rays might actually keep this up.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking that this little preoccupation with the local baseball franchise is kind of silly. But nah. I’m a sports fan, and make no apologies about it. The Rays upsurge is a fun sidebar in my life — it doesn’t take center stage. At the very least, it gives me something to look forward to at night. Maybe that’s the scariest part: If the team reverts to its old ways and tanks, I know my interest is going to wane. I hate it, but it’s true.
I get the sense that there are a lot of folks out there just like me. I heard a few call in to sports radio on the way work. The next step? Going to games. That’s not a tipping point that I’ve crossed, but I think it could be drawing near.
There’s been a lot of hand-wringing about the attendance at the Trop not matching the team’s winning (and entertaining) play. Last night, for instance, the Rays drew by far the smallest crowd in the major leagues.
One of the biggest issues for me is that I like watching the games on TV. I like listening to Staats and Magrane call the game. I’m a lazy-ass; I tend to opt for the couch and the 57-inch HD over the hard plastic seat in the stadium.
I don’t buy the argument that the Trop is difficult to get to. Parking is abundant, mostly because the crowds are modest. The walk up to the park is quick. Inside, the Trop lacks charm and aesthetic appeal, but the weather is good and the team is playing bang-up ball.
So, yeah, I’m a little guilty about not getting out to a game during this crazy run (I did attend the home opener). I do feel an obligation, and I also figure that going to a game is bound to be a pretty good time. Again, I get the feeling that there are a lot of people out there who are thinking like me — on the precipice of attending games, not so much because we’re skeptical, but because we need to change our habits.
Certainly, the Rays deserve crowds of 25,000-plus these days, but that’s not the way it works. It’s easy for me to say, and probably a little unfair, but … keep this up, and we will come.
