|
Two visionaries live their 'Field of Dreams'By DAVID K. ROGERS © St. Petersburg Times, published April 1, 1998 Bob Stewart, "Mr. Baseball" to many residents, and Rick Dodge, who pursued baseball through two decades on St. Petersburg's behalf, were in the stands Tuesday to watch the Devil Rays' first game. No box seats, no invitation to a suite somewhere, never mind being asked to participate in the festivities on the field. "I've had at least 150 people come up to me already," Dodge said. "Most of them say something like "I'm a fan, and thank you. We know how much you did, and we'll always remember.' "A lot of them say, "You should be on the field,' and I tell them I'm right where I want to be -- in the stands with the fans." Dodge was sent out by the city on an exploratory mission to find out what it would take to land a Major League Baseball team here. He was an assistant city manager then, a former recreation department head with a fondness for baseball. Stewart, as a St. Petersburg City Council member in the 1980s, was nominally Dodge's boss. He and a handful of other local officials had begun beating the drum for baseball as an economic development tool in 1980. In 1986, Stewart got the ultimate chance to show his support for the game: He voted with a City Council majority to build a $65-million domed stadium without having first secured a team to play in it. He got a second chance when, as a Pinellas County commissioner, he voted to approve millions more to help improve what is now Tropicana Field. The total cost of the stadium today, as the Devil Rays begin play: about $210-million. A video that ran before Tuesday's game downplayed the efforts of the Stewart-Dodge era even as it boosted the role played by the Devil Rays' general managing partner, Vince Naimoli. Or, as the announcer put it, "the years of heartbreak and, finally, the jubilation as the Tampa Bay Devil Rays are born." It was on somebody else's watch, the tape made clear, that the Giants, the White Sox and the Marlins' expansion slot were lost. "Strike three and we're out," read what looked like a newspaper headline. Then a clip of James Earl Jones from the movie Field of Dreams: "He will come, Ray," intones Jones. "He will most definitely come." The next image on the screen was a close-up of Naimoli. But Stewart had no quarrel with anyone Tuesday. "Relief," was the word he used to describe his feelings. "It's the criticism and the questioning that comes from the fact that we have put a tremendous financial debt on the local community," he said. "It's a pretty heavy responsibility, and it had started to wear on me, quite frankly. I have a sense of relief in seeing a major tenant in this building." "Hello, mayor!" Stewart called out as former Mayor Robert Ulrich strode over. "Congratulations!" Ulrich offered back. "I'm mighty proud of you." Ulrich was joined by a steady stream of well-wishers. "I've got to shake the hand of Mr. Baseball," said an ebullient Roy Harrell, a lawyer active in business, politics and community development. Stewart greeted them all warmly, but grew reflective: "I'm just glad we didn't know in 1986 what it was going to take to get to 1998. Because if we did, I'm not sure we would have taken the journey. "Would I have voted for it again today? Knowing the conclusion, yes, obviously. But the uncertainty, the tremendous liability and responsibility for having a building sit empty. . . . "But today, knowing that they're going to throw out the first pitch in just a few minutes, that vote back then makes me look like a visionary today instead of a horse's derriere," Stewart said with a laugh. He added: "At last."
Business |
Citrus |
Commentary |
Entertainment
|
Home
T. PETERSBURG -- They ended their long quest exactly as they had started it. Just fans.
