Editor's Note: Scott Butherus describes himself as a baseball fan, a native Floridian, a journalist and a devoted drinker of beer. He's also a graduate student in multimedia journalism at the University of South Florida's School of Mass Communications. With a level of savvy that bodes well for the 26-year-old's future success, he dreamed up a master's thesis project that combined all of his passions: a six-month investigation into Florida's baseball culture, culminating in an 18-day, nine-city, beer-soaked journey to all of the spring training sites along the Gulf Coast.
Here at Creative Loafing we empathize with all of Scott's interests (especially the beer), so we agreed with him and his graduate advisors that his story (excerpted from his thesis) would be a good fit for CL. It's a sweet deal: He gets a published piece, a degree and, of course, beer; we get a look back at the spring training season just past, combined with reflections on baseball's place in Florida. (We didn't get beer, though; we'll have to talk to him about that.)
A core part of Scott's project, reflecting his multimedia degree, is its online component. Readers of CL's blog, blurbex.com, have already seen Scott's postings from the spring-training trail. Users can also view his online virtual tour and video documentary (right).
First Inning: Tiger,Tiger
"Number 131, you're up!" yelled a grizzled coach in a Tigers hat. It was my turn to try and achieve my childhood dream of being a big-league ballplayer. Although the chances of that happening were approximately the same as a snowstorm blowing through the Sunshine State, there I was, standing on a pitcher's mound in Lakeland at the spring tryouts for the Detroit Tigers.
Maybe it was a case of the butterflies, or maybe it was the Kobayashi impression I'd tried at the Pirates game the day before, but my stomach had the jitters. I guess that's why my first pitch sailed three feet over the catcher's head, ricocheted off a pole and nearly drilled the handful of catchers waiting on the other end of the battery. After that, the rest of my bullpen session in front of the coaches went well; I spotted my fastballs, my breaking balls were sharp, and thanks to a little extra wind, my knuckleballs danced like a drunken mascot. I even got to shake hands with Todd Jones, current closer for the American League Champion Tigers, who'd come over from the adjacent field to watch. At 26 I wasn't the oldest among the over 200 players trying out that day, but I certainly was old by baseball standards.
The day started off with a drive out to Lakeland to one of Florida's most historic stadiums, Joker Marchant, along with fellow UCF alumnus Phil Risi. After signing in, we were greeted by Detroit's head of player development with a quick pep talk about how the odds were against anyone being signed. Then we were split into groups based on our positions.
The players trying out ranged in age from 18 to 45. Most were players from obscure Division II or Junior Colleges (in their teams' uniforms) who wanted to prove they could play at the next level. A few were players with previous professional experience who'd been forced to forego their baseball careers due to injury or other circumstances. The last group consisted of foreign players from Latin America and Asia who never had a chance to play college in the U.S. (One Japanese player had flown all the way from Tokyo just to try out.) For all the players trying out, the chance of getting a callback was slim. As one of the coaches told me afterward, "Last year we brought in three players from the tryouts. … none of which broke camp with the organization at the end of spring training."
Second Inning: Phanatics
Bright House Networks Field in Clearwater, the latest of the spring training megaplexes, was unveiled in 2004, built with over $18 million in tax dollars for the Philadelphia Phillies. Perhaps its most beloved feature is the 60-barstool, 50-foot, thatched-roof tiki bar called Frenchy's, located just beyond the outfield fence in left field.
A full liquor bar in the middle of the cheap seats? This was my field of dreams. The only thing missing was Kevin Costner playing catch with Shoeless Joe.
Joe Jackson never showed up, but several other well-known ballplayers made an appearance at the hut. Former Phillies Darren "Dutch" Daulton and Larry Anderson are frequent attendees at the games, and current Phillies like Ryan Howard and Chase Utley often hang out after the games, signing autographs and listening to the live music. It's easy to see why Clearwater was named one of the top sports cities in America by Sports Illustrated, despite being home to only one spring training team and its minor league affiliate.
Ferris Bueller made it stylish to skip school and go to a baseball game, but Sean Simon and his friends really do it with panache. Sean is a schoolteacher from Pennsylvania and a Phillies fan since birth. Along with his friends Bob, Tom and Brian, he has made a tradition of calling in sick to school to catch the first plane down to Florida to see opening day in Clearwater. For the last two years, this band of Phanatics has also managed to buy the season's first bucket of beer at the tiki bar — a tradition they intend to continue next year.
"Spring training is all about relaxing, getting your buckets of beer, talking with the players like Michael Jack Schmidt and good friends," Sean said between sips of Coors Light. "A favorite moment? I don't know if I have just one. I love it all. Ask me again after the eighth bucket."
Third Inning: Heading for Home
Underneath a small tent in Pirate City a soft-spoken man stood in the center of a circle of reporters, answering each question with quiet wit and the occasional requisite baseball cliché. For Pittsburgh Pirates manager Jim Tracy, spring training is more than just morning workouts and roster decisions; it's a homecoming.
"We lived in Sarasota for 13 years. One of the best parts of being back in Florida is being able to see those people that we had built relationships with again."
Long before becoming a big-league skipper, Jim was a baseball dad helping out his kids' teams while offering batting tips to 11-year-olds. His sons' baseball careers all began on the Little League fields of Sarasota, he pointed out proudly: Brian is currently a pitcher with UC-Santa Barbara; Chad was recently drafted as a catcher by the Texas Rangers after an All-American career at Pepperdine; and the youngest, Mark, is just beginning his Pepperdine career. "They were all students of the game from a very early age."
The Pirates have a long relationship with McKechnie Field, which was built in 1923 as the centerpiece of Bradenton's downtown district and has hosted the Pirates since 1969. It's a true urban stadium: The grandstands nestle up to the main thoroughfare, and foul balls are apt to carom off the hoods and windshields of passing traffic. McKechnie also features some of spring training's finest diamond delicacies: Polish sausage, turkey legs, subs, pizza, fruit smoothies and a beer counter serving Pennsylvania brews like Yuengling, Rolling Rock and Iron City Lager.
Although ballpark food might contribute to the obesity of today's youth, it sure hasn't hurt Florida's ability to churn out talented young players year after year. The state is responsible for superstars like Gary Sheffield, Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez and Jason Varitek as well as future stars. Why is Florida such a hotbed of young talent? For several reasons, says Tom Pluto, a baseball instructor with the nationally renowned IMG Baseball Academy in Bradenton who has spent the past 41 years working in a variety of levels of youth baseball. The weather, for one thing: "You can get out pretty much any time of the year and train."
More importantly, he adds, "This is a spring training state, [so] you have so many professional baseball players, who after their careers come down here to live. That experience filters down through the college and high schools all the way down through the youth leagues."
Fourth Inning: An infidel among the Yankees
The construction of Legends Field in 1996 — a replication of Yankee Stadium, complete with arched facades and identical field dimensions — marked the end of the traditional concrete-block stadiums that had exemplified Florida baseball. At over 10,000 seats, it has the highest capacity of any spring training site in Florida, and exhibition games frequently outdraw the regular season games of the home-crowd Devil Rays.
For any true baseball fan there are usually only two teams to root for: your team and whoever is playing the Yankees. Their bloated payrolls have made them the team everyone loves to hate, and the only things worse than the Yankees themselves (at least from the perspective of rival cities) are their fans. In an informal poll taken on each of Major League Baseball's internet message boards, Yankee fans were rated the worst in all of baseball (although it should be noted that the Red Sox and Mets weren't far behind).
Feeling that this phenomenon needed to be observed further, I decided it would be fun to soil the hallowed grounds of the pinstriped by showing up in Boston Red Sox regalia, just to see if New York fans really were as horrible as they'd been labeled.
Yankee fans lived up to their reputation: It was like wearing Bloods colors straight into the Crips' hood. From the moment I crossed the bridge connecting Legends Field with Raymond James Stadium, I was greeted with boos, evil glares and drunken middle fingers. Throughout the game I was barraged with sarcastic insults like "Hey buddy! The ladies' bathroom is down the walkway!" and my personal favorite, a profanity-laced insult from a chubby fan in a Yankee jersey: "You think that's funny? You think you're funny? You're a fucking asshole, dude."
Even the ushers joined in. One asked to see my ticket stub every time I returned from the bathroom, even when my hands were filled with beer and hotdogs.
Fifth Inning:
The streets of St. Pete
"It gets into you," said sportswriter Carter Gaddis as we talked one afternoon in St. Petersburg's Progress Energy Park. "It gets into your bloodstream."
Gaddis was talking about spring training, and he should know. He has been covering the beat for both the St. Petersburg Times and Tampa Tribune since 1992. "I really, really love spring training. It is my favorite time of the year."
It's been a part of the life of St. Petersburg since 1914, when the city hosted the first spring training game between major league teams. The St. Louis Browns, who were training in St. Pete, faced the Chicago Cubs, who arrived by steamboat from across the bay where they were training in Tampa. In honor of the occasion, the mayor of the city declared the day a holiday and schools and businesses around the city closed. Over 4,000 spectators filled the grandstand bleachers and concourses of Coffee Pot Park. Later that spring, the Grapefruit League and its formalized four-week exhibition schedule was born. The park still exists along Coffee Pot Bayou, although the grandstands and field have long been replaced by swing sets and boat docks.
Over the course of the century, more and more teams trained in St. Pete, many lured there through the efforts of Pennsylvania transplant (and former mayor) Al Lang, who spearheaded the fundraising for Waterfront Park in 1920. The sidewalk plaques in downtown St. Pete tell some of the teams' lore, and a bit farther north Crescent Lake Park, site of Huggins-Stengel Field, has its own tales to tell: Legend has it that an alligator crawled from the lake onto left field during a Yankees game and scared Babe Ruth all the way to the dugout.
Even with all this history, it wasn't until 1998 that Major League Baseball granted St. Pete its own expansion team: the Devil Rays. Carter Gaddis was the Trib's primary Devil Rays beat writer from 2001 through 2005.
His passion for baseball is clear. "I grew up playing the game, following the game, reading about the game, absorbing everything I could about the game," he said as we watched a Devil Rays batting practice. "I also had a love of writing. When I was able to combine those things it has been a real blessing."
Gaddis first attended a spring training game when he moved to Florida in 1982 and has been hooked since. "Spring training is so relaxed, so laid-back," he said, watching a lazy fly ball land about 10 feet short of the warning track. "The only way to go into a 162-game season is to ease into it, and that's what these guys do."
Sixth Inning: Roots
The biggest story of the spring in Sarasota should have been ex-prospect and fallen idol Josh Hamilton. The former number-one draft pick of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays was making a final push to fulfill his promising career, which had been tragically derailed by poor decisions and copious amounts of drugs. Instead, the biggest story in Sarasota revolved around the drama taking place off the field — or rather, about the field. The Sarasota City Commission, responding to the Cincinnati Reds' threatened move to Arizona, had agreed to build a new $54 million facility to keep the Reds and their minor league affiliate in Sarasota. The project is now in serious jeopardy because the city and the team haven't been able to find a contractor willing to take on the final $10 million tab for the project.
If the plans for a new stadium fall through and the Reds do decide to leave after next spring, it would be a tragic loss for the community. I still have vivid memories of seeing my first major league game in Payne Park: from the metallic clang of a Carlton Fisk homer as it bounced off the roof of a mobile home just beyond the outfield fence to the acrobatic diving stop by third baseman George Brett that fascinated me so much I remain a Kansas City Royal fan to this day. Built in 1924 adjacent to the county courthouse, Payne Park has been called home by the New York Giants, the Boston Red Sox, the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Chicago White Sox. As I walked through the practice fields behind Ed Smith Stadium, the current spring training site, I found that I wasn't the only one with fond memories.
Joe Ayrault and Ryan Jackson have deep roots in the Sarasota area. So it's fitting that their baseball careers have brought them back full circle to their hometown as the manager and coach, respectively, for Cincinnati's minor league affiliate Sarasota Reds. Both Joe and Ryan explained that they were "little baseball rats" growing up in Sarasota before going on to professional careers. "It was awesome," said Ayrault, a former catcher from Sarasota High. "I remember the days when I was a kid having all the baseball cards, getting autographs, hanging out, looking for broken bats." I got to mix in as a batboy every once in a while. It was a blast." Jackson, a Cardinal Mooney graduate who had stints in the big leagues with the Marlins, Mariners and Tigers, is thrilled that he now gets to share his experiences with younger players. "It's exciting to get the opportunity to send these young players over to the big league side," he said with a grin. "I remember what it was like to rub shoulders with the big leaguers, and it's great to see them get to do that for their first time."
Seventh Inning: The Red Sox Saved Her Life
Spring training teams often form deep bonds with the communities that play host. Dunedin is a perfect example. Just three miles north of Clearwater, this tiny town and its ballpark have a distinctly Canadian flavor. Knology Park, formerly Grant Field, was originally built in 1930 and named after the mayor who championed its construction. In 1977, the expansion Toronto Blue Jays first arrived in Dunedin and would leave their mark on both the city and the stadium. The Canadian anthem is sung before each game, concession stands feature Labatt Blue on tap, and only recently did the stadium vendors stop accepting Canadian currency. It's only natural; Dunedin has a higher ratio of Canadian-born residents than any other city in Florida.
Baseball has a way of keeping people young. It can even save your life: Just ask 92-year-old Virginia Bagnall. Virginia was the special guest the day I visited Knology Park, and she had the honor of throwing out the ceremonial first pitch for the hometown Toronto Blue Jays. Afterward, I heard the story of how baseball saved her life.
During WWII, Virginia was stationed in Iceland, where a German spy assumed her identity in order to infiltrate American forces. The spy looked like Virginia, talked like Virginia and even knew all about Virginia's background and personal life. The impostor knew the answers to every question posed by American intelligence agents until they asked both women about their favorite sport. Only Virginia, who had grown up as a "rabid Boston Red Sox fan," knew the real answer. As a resident of Dunedin for the past 48 years, she continues to be a fan; during the summers she has been known to watch four or five games a day.
Seventh Inning Stretch:Take me out to the ballgame
Florida is a baseball state — just as Indiana is a basketball state, Texas a football state and Nevada (arguably) a blackjack state. Accordingly, Florida history is rich in the folklore of spring training. For instance, in 1903, New York Giants pitcher Rube Waddell is said to have been so heartbroken over his unrequited love for a young Florida woman that he drunkenly attempted to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge into the St. John's River, only to be pulled from waist-deep mud by his laughing teammates. The Grapefruit League — the collective identity of Florida's spring training teams — allegedly owes its name to a prank played by catcher Casey Stengel on his manager Wilbert Robinson when they were with the Brooklyn, N.Y., franchise. That spring, Robinson boasted he could catch a baseball dropped from an airplane. Stengel accepted that bet, but failed to inform his coach that the baseball would be replaced by a grapefruit. Upon impact with Robinson's mitt, the grapefruit exploded, coating the manager with juice and knocking him unconscious. When he awoke, Robinson cried bloody murder.
Baseball clubs began heading to warmer climates for pre-season training in 1870, when the Cincinnati and Chicago ball clubs held organized exercise camps in New Orleans. It wasn't until 1888 that professional teams discovered Florida as an oasis. By 1900, spring training had become a ritual of every professional team.
In the South, the game of baseball was such a novelty at first that exhibition games against local college and city league teams turned into popular events. The Tampa Bay area, with its numerous semipro teams and large contingent of Cuban-born ballplayers working in Tampa's nearly 200 cigar factories, provided a steady contingent of exhibition opponents.
Many decades later, the reporting of pitchers and catchers around the second week of February has come to symbolize the rebirth of hope for every fan whose team did not walk away from the previous season as winners. Although today the competition for positions has largely been settled by the time spring training begins, there is always the intrigue of rookie pitchers battling for the fifth slot in the rotation or the former All-Star trying to hang on for one more season in the sun. And while the institution has changed tremendously over the course of its century-long history, spring training has still managed to maintain a certain degree of its sacred charm — not to mention its ticket-selling appeal. Spring training games attract over 1.6 million fans and contribute nearly $500 million to Florida's economy.
Eighth Inning: Fenway South
If Fenway Park is the capital of Red Sox Nation, then Fort Myers has definitely become one of its commonwealth territories. "I bet you've never seen one of these before," said Kristen Handy in her thick Massachusetts accent as she held out her hand to show me the gold ring with the sapphire "B" on top: a 2004 World Series ring, one of only 45 that were made available to the public. "$3,500 and it was worth every penny," she declared. Kristen was one of a group of Massachusetts natives gathered in the parking lot of City of Palms Park. Every year this group of Fenway faithful makes the pilgrimage from Boston to Florida; some of them have been coming down for 26 years.
If Grapefruit League games are meaningless, you sure couldn't tell in Fort Myers. The atmosphere was not quite playoff time at Fenway, but the game between the Sox and the Yankees definitely had the air of a game that mattered (including the armored SWAT vehicle stationed outside). The pre-season games here are usually sold out the day they go on sale, and what few tickets are released on game day are quickly scooped up by scalpers. Luckily, I was able to get into the game without paying 200 bucks when a nice family with a spare ticket parted with it for face value and a 1979 Bucky Dent card.
Once inside I got to check out the view from the rightfield deck, affectionately known as the "white monster" because of the large number of retirees who can be found sitting along the rails during afternoon games. The deck is the latest addition to the park; with its barstools and drink counters, it is designed to imitate the seating on top of the Green Monster in Boston. The rest of the stadium was packed, with rows of the Red Sox faithful spilling out into the "Standing Room Only" section of the concourse. As the sign inside the tunnel leading out from under the stands proclaimed, I was in the middle of "Red Sox Nation."
Ninth Inning: Twin Peaks
Across town at the Minnesota Twins complex, I returned to what spring training is all about: blue skies, a laid-back crowd and $5 drafts of premium beer. Out of all the stadiums I visited, none managed to capture the essence of spring training like Hammond Park. Before the game, fans could get up close and personal with the players on their way to the practice fields behind the main stadium. As one young signature-seeker told me, brandishing his prized Joe Mauer autograph, "You can get all kinds of autographs back here. It's not like the Red Sox where maybe just a few of the players sign after batting practice."
The intimate feeling continued inside the park. By the second inning the beer ladies knew me by name and the ushers had started calling me "Cheap Seats." The minimal foul territory enabled fans to get close to the action, sometimes too close: The bright yellow signs warning spectators to be aware of balls flying into the stands proved to be prophetic, as two different people had to be helped out by paramedics after being drilled by foul balls. I didn't mean to laugh, but when someone takes a shot to the face because he didn't want to drop his beer …
"I've lived here my whole life, so Florida is pretty much all I know. I plan on staying here the rest of my life." For Twins pitcher Jason Miller, Florida roots are hard to give up — even if it means spending his summers in Minnesota. Jason Miller is the latest in the long line of left-handed pitchers to graduate from the perennial baseball powerhouse Sarasota High, a legacy that most recently includes Bobby Seay, Doug Million and Matt Drews. "It's great seeing how many good players have come out of Sarasota one after the other," said Miller. "You think it's gonna stop at some time, but they just keep pumping out great players."
Jason is now in his second major league camp, but if you were to ask him 10 years ago if he thought he would be in this position he probably would have scoffed. "I remember in Little League all I could do was hit. I couldn't pitch. I could throw, but I couldn't throw strikes. I used to hit people all the time and I never knew where the ball was going. I never wanted to be a pitcher; all I wanted to do was hit. Now look at me, I can't hit and all I can do is pitch. It has been quite a reversal."
Although he is likely to start the season in AAA, Jason enjoyed the time he spent with the big-league club. "It's unbelievable how fun it is out here and how good these guys treat you and how good you are treated up in here in the major leagues. Compared to the minor leagues, it is night and day." He sounded optimistic that his time would come soon. "Just keep pulling for me and praying for me. I've been doing this the last seven years, so just stay patient with me. I think this year will be a big year for me. I just got to keep doing what I've been doing and think I'll get called up this year. Hopefully everything works out."
He knows there is a grand tradition to carry on. With its long history of baseball, Florida is on his side.
This article appears in Mar 28 – Apr 3, 2007.