TAMPA, Fla. — When the deciding vote to build a Rays stadium was cast — at 12:45 p.m., by the Hillsborough County Commission on Friday — angels did not weep.
Clouds did not part, and thunder did not shake the rafters. But if you were listening closely, you just might have heard a community exhale.
This was not just the end of a journey, but the realization of a quest. Some might say a crusade.
When seeking the origins of this tale, you need to go back much further than last fall when Ken Babby and Patrick Zalupski’s ownership group began chasing the ballpark at Hillsborough College. Even beyond the 19 years since the Rays first fixated on a waterfront site in St. Pete during their initial pursuit to replace Tropicana Field.
The story of Major League Baseball finally arriving in Tampa — the city, not the region — can be traced to the 1980s and the formation of the Tampa Bay Baseball Group by a handful of business leaders. The plan, at the time, was to build a domed ballpark entirely with private money next to the old Tampa Stadium, near where Raymond James Stadium now resides.
It was 40 years and 35 days ago that Tampa’s dream of being a Major League Baseball town was dashed by the St. Petersburg City Council’s bold decision to build its own domed stadium on spec and a prayer.
Forty years since baseball’s then-commissioner told St. Pete’s mayor that the city was not a strong candidate to land a team. Forty years worth of insults and empty bleachers at the Trop. Forty years of baseball fans in Tampa grumbling that baseball was doomed on the wrong side of the bridges.
All of which led to Friday morning, when the most elusive stadium in baseball became a reality.
And all it took was a 5-2 vote by the commission a day after the Tampa City Council approved the deal 4-3.
Two votes and a commitment to build a $2.3 billion ballpark, that is.
Finally, it is Tampa’s team.
Soon, it will be Tampa’s turn.
This is what Major League Baseball wanted. Today, and 10,000 yesterdays ago.
“It’s amazing that (St. Pete) got the team all those years ago, and the sacrifices that were made and the visionary thinking that went into that,” said Will Weatherford, former Speaker of the Florida House and current Rays limited partner. “There’s always a risk in building a new ballpark, and today is no exception. This community is taking a risk on the Rays by bringing them here, but I think it’s a transformational moment. There’s going to be a material difference with the Rays playing in Tampa.
“It’s just math. It’s numbers, it’s volume, it’s people. I think the community is going to embrace this team. They already have. There is already a diehard fanbase, and Tampa is going to take it to another level.”
Tampa is closer to the heart of Tampa Bay’s geographical area. It’s the region’s corporate center. In a market that lacks some of the economic advantages integral for baseball, a ballpark in Tampa has long been considered a necessary component.
It’s why former owner Stuart Sternberg spent years trying to work a deal in Ybor City and Channelside. It’s why the Rays mourned a missed opportunity along the Tampa Riverwalk. And it’s why the Zalupski group turned its full attention to the Hillsborough College site once Gov. Ron DeSantis showed a willingness to intercede.
There’s a reason it’s taken years for this to happen. The cost of stadiums has outpaced inflation at a frightening pace.
When the Tampa Bay Baseball Group first envisioned the stadium across the street from the current Hillsborough College site, the estimated cost in 1983 was $40 million. Today’s $2.3 billion cost is nearly 60 times higher.
Elected officials are pushing the idea that the public contribution to the ballpark is in the $876 million range. The reality — when factoring in the state’s contribution to rebuild the Hillsborough College campus, the virtual gifting of 113 acres, the interest costs on loans and bonds, the repayment of the Rays’ $100 million loan — the true price tag in public funds is well over $1 billion.
That’s an enormous investment and, accordingly, a huge risk.
It might also be the only path to survival for MLB in Tampa Bay.
Even while winning an uncommon number of games on the field, the Rays have perpetually finished near the bottom of the league in attendance. Is it the fault of Tropicana Field’s location? Is it the fault of the stadium’s starter-home quality? Or is it an overall market deficiency? We’re about to find out.
“Tropicana Field was outdated the day it opened in 1998,” said Hillsborough Commission chair Ken Hagan, who has spearheaded Tampa’s efforts to lure the Rays for nearly 20 years. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s climate-controlled and comfortable. But I’ve been to every major-league ballpark, and when you see what a real ballpark is, you realize the Trop is a minor-league facility.
“I think our forefathers inherently knew that Tampa would be the better baseball market. There’s a rich history going back to our Cuban descendants, the Negro Leagues, the Smokers, Babe Ruth hitting his longest home run (at Plant Field). We have an enormous baseball history. And from a population standpoint — using MLB’s paradigm of 30 minutes from the ballpark — you more than double the population and business support in Tampa.
“For all of those reasons, yes, I think today’s decision rights a wrong.”
There still is much to be done. You do not have to strain your memory to recall the celebration in St. Pete in 2024 when Sternberg and his partners struck a deal to build a state-of-the-art ballpark on the opposite end of the Trop site. Within a few months, the deal had fallen apart. In a project of this size, deadlines can be missed, circumstances can change, and lawsuits can be filed.
For now, however, the signs point toward success. Construction for a temporary campus for Hillsborough College students will get underway in September, and groundbreaking for the ballpark likely will happen in January.
Two years ago, the Rays handed out T-shirts and signs after getting approval for their St. Pete ballpark:
“Here to Stay,”the slogan read.
Now, it looks like the Rays are heading out of St. Pete after all, but they remain in Tampa Bay. Maybe a little editing would be helpful:
It’s Here’s, a New Day.