Tropicana Field Is More Than a Ballpark—It’s Home
By Catherine Tinker
Tampa, FL
Tropicana Field is home. It was the home of my first Major League Baseball game. I couldn’t tell you anything about how that day played out except for the fact that I probably ate lots and lots of popcorn. It’s home to the big moments like Kevin Kiermaier hitting an extra-innings walk-off home run or seeing them clinch the division at home the year after nobody could go to the ballpark. It’s home to smaller memories like several of us trying to get Kevin Cash’s attention so our friend could get an autographed ball to surprise her dad, or getting splashed by the stingrays when sitting in Section 150 on Opening Day.
It’s home as both a place and the people who make it, like the team store associates who joke, “Here comes trouble,” when my dad sets foot in the doorway. When I saw the first photos of the roof tattered and exposing the field to the elements, the people who make Tropicana Field were my first worry. Baseball provides plenty of us entertainment, but what about those who rely on it for their livelihood? The team store associates, the fan hosts, the concessions workers who look forward to Opening Day every year as a fresh series of 81 opportunities to create joy for all who pass through the gates.
Does it have its flaws? Every ballpark does. But it’s ours. When the catwalks sabotage the visiting team’s hit? A sense of pride swells. That’s the Classic Trop Experience. Another source of pride has been every time I hear of another game getting delayed due to rain. Not in our house. People love to poke fun at our home park, but it was built knowing the climate where it resides. It was built according to the local need. And I love it for that.
I hope deeply that we haven’t seen the last game in St. Pete. For all the joy I’ve known within the Trop, she deserves a proper send-off.
About Catherine Tinker
Catherine Tinker lives in Tampa with her cat. She struggles to find a personality and fill her calendar when it’s not MLB season.