TAMPA – Fielding is no easy task at Tropicana Field. Just ask Harrison Bader.
The Yankees centerfielder had a problem with the domed stadium’s off-white ceiling, which has four catwalks, on Saturday when the Rays’ Josh Lowe lofted a pitch in the third inning. The contact resulted in an RBI double after Bader lost track of the ball and overran its landing spot.
“It would have been a really, really good catch,” Bader, one of baseball’s best defenders, said after the Yankees’ 3-0 loss. “On the way down, I just lost it.”
Bader went on to say that The Trop is, “Not my favorite. You know, turf is a little sticky. Roof is a little tough.”
Jake Bauers, who began his career in Tampa Bay, added, “It’s way harder to see the ball in the outfield,” as well as at the plate.
“Keep your eye on the ball at all times,” he warned the Daily News. “As soon as the ball goes up in the air, if you take your eye off it, you’re not gonna find it again. It’s gone.”
It’s things like that and unique ground rules that make The Trop, which opened to the public in 1990, one of baseball’s least appealing stadium’s for visiting players. And with a largely gray interior that resembles a convention center, it doesn’t have the best reputation among baseball fans.
But I am here to tell you that The Trop rules – if you don’t have to play there. I understand that this is a controversial opinion.
I went into my first-ever trip to the ballpark with an open mind when the Yankees played there in May. Much to my surprise, The Trop made a charming first impression, one that held up after a second visit this past weekend.
Some baseball fans may have heard that Tropicana is a wonderful place for reporters to work, and that’s true. The view from the press box is one of the best in the majors, getting to the clubhouse and field is extremely easy, and the media dining is among the better that I’ve tried.
Granted, no one reading this cares about any of that. But those are not the only reasons I’m a proponent of the venue.
As a first-year beat writer, I’ve been making it a point to give myself tours of all the new stadiums I visit. And let me tell you, The Trop has plenty to offer fans of all ages.
In addition to cheap ticket prices – the Rays don’t draw many spectators – there are tons of interesting concession and beer choices, a party deck, an arcade, a pitching and hitting simulator, and a kids activity section. And if you’re an animal nerd like me, the 10,000-gallon stingray touch tank in right-centerfield has little competition when it comes to the best one-of-a-kind stadium amenities (I won’t have a chance to check out the pool at Arizona’s Chase Field until next season).
The Trop also, for the most part, has strong in-game entertainment, including rock-heavy playlists, interactive jumbotron segments and an on-field security guard whose dancing puts Yankee Stadium’s Y.M.C.A. performances to shame.
And on the rare occasion that it’s actually packed, the place does get loud.
While not a feature of the stadium itself, Tropicana Field regularly offers cool experiences for younger fans, such as chances to run the bases and organized, pre-game autograph signings. It’s genuinely one of the family-friendliest ballparks I’ve been to so far.
And sure, The Trop is a dump – no one is denying that – but it’s a dump with more personality than many newer, corporate constructions.
The stadium knows what it is, leaning into its reputation by maximizing its quirkiness. For example, there’s a three-person Hall of Fame that’s essentially behind a garage door, a perfect design for a ballpark with the aesthetic of a warehouse. There’s also a large statue of a generic, legless baseball player coming out of a concourse wall. It’s totally random, and it’s awesome.
And I haven’t even gotten to the best part, something even players appreciate: Tropicana is climate controlled.
“You come in and you know it’s gonna be the same every day,” Bauers said. “It’s never 90 degrees. It’s never 60 degrees. It’s 73 with a white roof every day.”
Now, there are days when some would appreciate a little sunshine in the Sunshine State, and that’s not an option at The Trop. But in August, players are happy to be indoors.
“Florida is definitely a tough environment,” Kyle Higashioka, who has to wear catcher’s gear, told the News. “I played a few years in the Florida State League. It’s a tough environment to play outdoors and even at night. So it is nice to have climate control.”
Higashioka also enjoys The Trop’s visiting clubhouse and support staff. Alas, he said that the park is his least favorite place to play.
“But I don’t really hate playing here,” he added.
In addition to catching pop-ups beneath the catwalks, Higashioka shared a common complaint about The Trop.
“It feels like a casino,” he said. “You just never know what time it is outside and there’s no windows. You have no sense of what’s happening outside and it’s kind of just weird.
Higashioka is right about that. The Trop’s lack of a view to the outside world is by far its worst quality. Whether you’re playing, rooting or reporting, it’s easy to lose track of time and the weather one may run into upon leaving.
If the Rays ever get a do-over – their pursuit of a new stadium has been a years-long debacle – they’ll want to include more windows and fewer catwalks. A little color wouldn’t kill them, either.
But, in one writer’s humble opinion, they’ll also want to incorporate a bunch of the features and experiences that make Tropicana Field the kind of dump to which more of MLB should aspire.
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