To say that the Seattle Mariners haven't given their fans (such as myself) much to cheer about in recent years would be a gross understatement. They looked to be well on their way to another dispiriting season when they rolled into St Petersburg for a four-game series against the Tampa Bay Rays.
Being a true glutton for punishment, I decided to travel down for the final two games of the series, taking Thursday off from work in the process. Getting tickets and booking a hotel was easy enough, given the Rays' perennially low attendance and the quietness of downtown St Pete. However, as the adage goes, it's easier to plan for a journey than to actually embark on it; this one was certainly no different. On that note, this is the complete chronicle of my trip to Tropicana Field, broken down into several segments:
Drive to the ballpark
I made the trek down to the Trop for an M's game last August, but that was for a Saturday night game; it was a very smooth drive to St Pete and back, so much so that I got back to Orlando within two hours of the game (an 8-0 shutout loss for Seattle). This time, I would have to try to avoid the notorious rush hour traffic in downtown Tampa. I left town at 3pm, hoping I wouldn't get caught up in the crunch... suffice to say, that didn't happen. At all.
I got to the heart of Tampa just before 5pm; the ensuing backup at the infamous Malfunction Junction put a grinding halt to what had been a nice and tidy ride. No sooner than I navigated my way through the interchange, I ran into an even bigger problem: more traffic flowing in from downtown. In fact, that was even worse than what I saw at the intersection, because the gridlock lasted all the way until the last exit before the bridge, which might as well have been the promised land at that point. All told, it took a full hour before I finally reached the Pinellas side of the bay.
On the flip side, going through Pinellas was the equivalent of rolling through a county road in Kansas. People even drove above the speed limit on the fast lane, which was a pleasant surprise. After checking in at my hotel, I hopped back on the car to get to the Trop, which I figured would be easy enough to get to from there.
There was only one problem: I forgot that downtown St Pete had so many one-way streets. At one point, I made a left turn into oncoming traffic, which must have scared everyone on that street, just as it did for me; fortunately, there was a back alley immediately to my right, and I managed to wiggle my way through before becoming just another statistic. That was the last of the driving adventures on the day, as I finally got to the ballpark almost 30 minutes before the first pitch.
The peculiar thing I noticed about St Pete was that outside of the Trop, there were hardly any signs that a baseball team existed in town. Aside from small flags flying outside of shops, hotels, and on some light posts downtown, it was almost as if the Rays weren't part of the city's fabric. I don't know whether that's down to the team not being adept at marketing themselves (something I heard from Rays fans at the game), but I thought it was odd that a team that good was just about invisible in their own backyard.
Preface to this section of the post: Tropicana Field is a truly bizarre sporting venue.
From the outside, it resembles an enormous circus tent with a roof that's about to collapse on itself. Apparently, they designed it that way for air-conditioning purposes, which actually seems like a smart piece of planning. The downside, of course, is that it still looks like the largest circus building in the world, instead of a Major League baseball stadium.
The definitive feature of the ballpark, by far, are those infamous catwalks. They provide the support system for the roof, and are also home to the lighting system -- you kinda need to keep the field lit when you play in a closed dome. It's still a wonder that any player could track fly balls in that ballpark though, taking into account the looming catwalks and the light-colored ceiling. Thankfully, they're not so dangerous that players and fans could be killed or otherwise maimed -- aside from a few light bulbs being shattered on occasions, but that's okay.
To the Rays' credit, they've redesigned the interior of the Trop so that it's no longer an utterly soulless atmosphere vacuum. The concourses actually look respectable, and the views of the game are decent depending on where you sit. That said, there's only so much anybody can do to make it a venue worth visiting up to 80-90 times a year. To bring up an old saying; no matter how long a log stays in the water, it doesn't become a crocodile.
Wednesday night game
The Mariners had dropped the first two games of the series, losing 3-2 in the extras on Monday night, then following it up with a miserable 3-1 loss on Tuesday. The same old failings on offense were there for everyone to see on those two nights, although, to be fair, they are a young, rebuilding team (I would chime in with a comment about this being our third rebuilding project of the last decade, but then I don't want to sound too snarky).
The players were already warming up by the I got to my seats. The view was surprisingly good considering I got the cheapest available ticket on Stubhub:
As expected, the Rays fans made up the overwhelming majority of the crowd, although there were a fair few Mariners fans in the house as well. We had reasons to cheer early on, as Kyle Seager (one of those promising young players) hit a three-run blast in his first at-bat. The lead only lasted until the fourth inning though, and the home team was ahead soon enough.
Seager hit another one out in the top of the sixth to tie the game at 4-4, but the Rays responded with a solo shot of their own in the latter half of the inning; Mike Saunders had a chance to rob Luke Scott of the homer, but just couldn't get the ball inside the glove. I didn't get to see the play because I was in the process of moving down (location seen at the pic on the very top), though it's probably for the best that I missed it. That ended up being the winning run for Tampa Bay... these are the kind of breaks that teams on a hot streak always seem to get.
One thing I noticed about the game atmosphere: certain Rays fans appear to have adopted the vuvuzela as their favorite noisemaker. It seems inexplicable that an "instrument" associated with soccer would make its way to baseball in America, but there it is. They actually drowned out the cowbells, which have become the symbol of the Rays fanbase. Well, not so much drown out, but overpower them in terms of noise; those horns really reverberated inside the closed confines of the Trop.
At any rate, as painstaking as it was to actually get to the ballpark, going back to the hotel following the game was a comparative breeze. The traffic coming out of the Trop was eerily light; not surprising, considering the official attendance was 9,837, and was probably closer to 8,000. It probably took about 15 minutes for me to walk out of the stadium, pull out of the parking lot, and walk back into my room. Either way, it beat having to park far out, or even having to walk through the unfamiliar streets of St Pete at night, while wearing a visiting team's shirt.
Thursday afternoon game
It's easier to move down the aisles in baseball than in any other sport; even more so if the crowd is so sparse the seats up front are begging to be taken. With another small crowd on hand, I decided to get a good as possible from the beginning, despite buying a ticket for the same seat as the night before. The key is to walk through an unchecked entrance, one not being looked after by an usher. There were a number of open gates down by the bullpen on both sides, and I took the liberty of taking a seat behind the Mariners bullpen.
About 15 minutes before the first pitch, a group of what looked like college-aged kids took a seat in a row behind me. They were from the Hillsborough side of the bay, and made the trip down after finishing their final exams at USF. We had a good banter going the rest of the game -- they were particularly impressed that I made the trip for this game, albeit to cheer on the visitors. Even though they became increasingly drunk as the game wore on, they were a pretty fun bunch to be around; cheers, peeps.
As they did in the first game, the Mariners jumped out to an early lead, going up 2-0 after RBIs from Mike Carp and the much-maligned Justin Smoak. But just as they did in the previous game, the Rays also clawed back immediately, taking a 4-2 lead after two innings, with Jeff Keppinger and Desmond Jennings providing the big hits (by the way, if Jennings isn't a household name yet, then he will be by the end of the year).
Ichiro drove in Seattle's third run in the fifth inning, but they would be shut out the rest of the way. Final score: Rays 4-3 Mariners, and a four-game sweep for the home team. The silver lining is that #51 looked like he was close to being back to his former self, even at his age. He and King Felix are still very much the team's biggest draws, so the M's definitely need the two of them to be at their best, even if the rest of the team can be unwatchable at times.
As for the crowd and the atmosphere: it was vastly different from the night before. The fans inside the stadium seemed younger on average, and by extension, more inebriated and boisterous. There was a group of college kids near the bullpen that let the Mariners relievers have it all night, even after they had been called to the mound ("Looooooogieeeeee" toward Lucas Luetge was my personal favorite). It was definitely more lively and exciting than the previous game, though the official attendance was still well short of 12,000.
With the series over, perhaps mercifully on the Mariners' behalf, I hit the road for the return trip to Orlando. It was a fantastic day off for me, and if my bank account allows me, I'll definitely look into visiting again in July, when they return to town for a weekend tilt. Hopefully they'll actually win a game if I do go -- I'm now 0-4 when watching the M's play in person.