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At long last, Tampa Bay's major beginningBy HUBERT MIZELL © St. Petersburg Times, published April 1, 1998 They lost, badly. But they played. Good. Twenty years. How many times, during an oft-turbulent Tampa Bay journey, did we think our eyes might never see March 31, 1998? Baseball full house. A creation christened as the Devil Rays. A team to call our own. Tuesday was immediately soaked with greatness. Ted Williams, Stan Musial, Monte Irvin and Al Lopez. Old men now, but fabulous historic practitioners of the game. Hall of Famers, here to flick a soft barrage of ceremonial first pitches. Fred McGriff, Wade Boggs, Dave Martinez and Bubba Trammell brought leather to catch the throws of giants. Wealthy moderns who would ask autographs from Ted, Stan, Monte and Al. From those icons, any of the Devil Rays could get so much more. If this team, Tampa Bay's own, ever plays with talent approaching that of The Thumper, if it can evolve into competitors with The Man's zeal, there are joyous times ahead at The Trop. Just to see 3/31/98 ... The Devil Rays are 0-1. Detroit boomed ahead 11-0, but the Tigers would be mildly staggered by the rallying Rays before putting away an 11-6 opener. May I make a guarantee? Tampa Bay's baseball team will not go 0-26. Your Rays will not be the reincarnation of your baby NFL Bucs of 1976-77. Win tonight ... they're .500. Baseball works that way. I'm still applauding St. Petersburg's uncharacteristically gutsy civic act of building the dome. Still glad my town decided to bet on the come. Still happy we didn't listen to Peter Ueberroth, the naysayer, then commissioner of baseball. It was a zesty 86 degrees as patrons jammed through gates for a 5:05 first pitch. Not yet April. Wait until it's July, August and September. Say thanks we're smarter than Miami. More understanding of Florida's spring and summer weather quirks than the Marlins. Let them sweat in Pro Players Sauna. Let them soak. Let them suffer. Dome is the Florida deal. Not traditional, but sensible. Tropicana Field cost more than it should have. Surely, it took longer to furnish with a franchise than it might have. But, finally to see legitimate, in-our-house American League baseball on 3/31/98, being among a sellout gathering of 45,369, there was invigorating closure. Even if the Detroit Tigers batters were abusing Tampa Bay pitchers. The Trop was smacked with some deserved licks from critics in the weeks leading to 3/31/98. There were ugly miscues during college basketball's NCAA South Regional. But that, like Tampa Bay's terribly long chase of Major League Baseball, is finished now. Most of what I saw Tuesday night was beyond good. Good array of P.A. music, not as disgustingly loud as in NBA arenas. Nice message boards. Solid scoreboards, including results on all other major league games. Huge and handsome Mitsubishi video screen. Also, within dome reason, the look of a baseball park. More important than anything, at last we were playing. Not searching. Not scrapping. Has anybody forgotten the highs, when Tampa Bay thought the White Sox were about to become our ballclub, to be followed by piercing lows as the possibility evaporated? Emotions agonizingly similar when the Mariners almost relocated to St. Petersburg, then the Giants. Also the Rangers. Did I mention the Twins? Surely there were others. But, at last, we have the Rays. Much of Tuesday evening was shy on heroics for The Trop's budding baseball fanatics. People kept waiting. Hoping. Watching as the Tigers, one of the AL's oldest operations, went ahead 4-0 and 6-0 and 11-0. Any crumb to taste Then, in the sixth, when Tampa-bred Wade Boggs hit a homer, we learned what a serious Trop cheer can sound like. Better than that, when the Rays rallied for four runs in the home half of the ninth, the rag roof shimmied from the uproar. Even if 30 percent of the sold-out arena had already gone home, well before the last out. We'll get the hang of this. It will take a while, but Tampa Bay will adjust. Baseball operates at a unique pace, so unlike football, hockey and basketball. Good thing, I think. Especially when the home team is getting bounced 11-6. You know that another chance will quickly come along. Like tonight. Game two, a 7:05 start. The Tigers will hang around through Thursday. Two more games. Another brace of shots for Tampa Bay's new kids on the AL block. For those who grow up with baseball's gait, there is understanding. Others can learn. Will learn. Learn it well and you can become charmed. Baseball games have a pace that generously allows for conversation, chomping hot dogs, swigging drinks and debating strategy. As we grow in Big League Season One, clientele at The Trop will become more adept at second-guessing managers and debating moves by the general manager. No sport has stats like baseball. Local media must become better at digesting and dispensing the numbers. This isn't like football, where few onlookers really know how well a left tackle or a strong safety is playing. We see nine positions, 10 counting the DH, and there are statistics for everything. That reminds me. What was wrong with the "pitch speed" board in left-center field? It wasn't working on opening night. Wilson Alvarez wasn't quick enough to avoid Detroit bats. There are things still to improve at Rays games. Including our own Tampa Bay attitudes about how to best enjoy the grand old game. But, finally, they are playing.
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