Good Grief

Somewhere in the midst of their 11 game losing streak the Tampa Bay Rays were eliminated from the playoff race. Just as the defending American League champions are coming to terms with their fate, so I must confront my own grief for the loss of my teams season.

First there was denial. While in this stage I refused to recognize the teams short comings heading into a season in which they would not be under estimated by anyone. Adding that to the fact that the Rays were forced to part with some key players of that pennant winning team.

Anger overcame me as I struggled to understand why the team that had showed so much promise in the playoffs the year before was once again playing with such inconsistency.

Bargaining is the next stage, and believe me I'm not above a little deal making with Saint Jude ( the patron saint of lost causes )with the bases loaded and 2 outs.

It is with the next level that I most disappointed myself. I have been a Rays fan since their inception and have witnessed many losing seasons, so when I started becoming depressed after a series loss or a paticulary bad outing I knew I had hit bottom.

It is time for acceptance. Baseball is my game and I have always associated it with having fun. Even when the old Devil Rays were losing steadily I enjoyed watching the games. I have learned a valuable lesson. High expectations can lead to a big let down. The Rays are my team and I will remember that it is only a game. A game that is meant to be enjoyed.

Same Old Story, Same Old Song and Dance

Even though you know somethings are inevitable it doesn't necessarily make them any easier to accept.

The one time Rays ace, pitcher Scott Kazmir was traded to the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim for two prospects and the infamous player to be named later.

The reason for this trade was money or should I say the lack of money on the part of Tampa Bay. I am certain that if the Rays had better revenue streams they would not have parted with a pitcher of his caliber. Simply put the organzation had to clear his salary off their books in order to address more pressing needs. The resigning of Carl Crawford being a prime example.

Kaz will be missed by the Tampa Bay area, not only because he is a good pitcher, but also because he is a good man who was very involved with local charities helping sick children.

I wish Scott the best of luck with the Angels and if the Rays don't make the playoffs, I now know which team I will be pulling for.

Hot August Night

My wife and I have just returned from a well deserved vacation. As with most of our getaways, we headed south about a hundred miles to the small barrier island on which we met. It is to that place that we retreat to a few times a year to soak up some sun, recharge the old batteries, and attempt to revisit our youth if only for a short time.

While cooling off from a hot day on the beach at a local pub we struck up a conversation with the owner, who overheard us talking about baseball. She told us she was originally from New Jersey and was a big Yankees fan. After assuring her that we did not hold that against her and letting her know that we are Rays fans she suggested that we check out the Rays minor league team in Port Charlotte the Stone Crabs. She told us that they were home for a three day stand, so we decided to make the short trip down the coast the next evening to take in a game.

As it is with most summer afternoons in south Florida, the storm clouds had gathered and were threatning to spoil our plans of enjoying an evening of baseball. Luckily for us the fates were kind and the clouds parted to reveal a beautiful sunset as we strolled toward the newly renovated ballpark.

Having arrived a little early, we decided to check out the Rays new spring home. The grandstand was small, but very neat and comfortable. From our seats behind home plate we looked out at a classic diamond with a beautifully maintained outfield. Beyond the outfield instead of bleachers was a boardwalk featuring a sitting area with tables and concessions.

Speaking of concessions, having skipped dinner in favor of ballpark food, we found our way to the nearest oasis for snacks. Now being the brains of the outfit my wife selected a healthy supper topped of with bottled water. As for myself I chose the traditional hot dog, peanuts, and a cold beer. As we made our way to our seats I couldn't help to think how blessed I have been.

Shortly after settling in our seats and finishing off our feast, the singer of the National Anthem was announced. She was a pretty little girl of about 10 or 11 years of age and man could she sing. The applause was enthusiastic and well deserved.

The game itself was very entertaining, featuring several big leaguers doing rehab stints with their respective affiliate teams. The home team played well and had a 2 run lead going into the top of the 9th until a 6 run rally in that inning by the visitors put the game out of reach.

As we walked back to the car through the hot August night, my wife turned to me and asked, "how long before they're back home?" Now I ask you, how lucky can a guy get?

Class Act - SYMT

When I was introduced to the local racing scene back in the mid seventies, the Reutimann brothers were firmly established as fan favorites in the Tampa Bay area. Buzzie, Wayne, and Dale were among the most dominant drivers at both Golden Gate Speedway (the asphalt track now long gone) and East Bay Raceway, the dirt track located just south of Tampa.

It all started in the early twenties when Emil Reutimann moved his family to the small town of Zephyrhills, Florida. It was there that he started the family business of working on Model A automobiles.

Emil started out as a mechanic, but it wasn't long before he was experimenting with differrent ways to make a car go faster. Emil Jr. shared his fathers need for speed and soon they both were participating in car races with friends and neighbors in a small field just outside of town.

By the time little Emil L. (Buzzie) was born racing cars had become a part of the families life. If anyone was ever destined to become a race car driver it was Buzzie. It wasn't long after he started working on cars that he began building his own to race along side his father against all comers.

Buzzie was followed in the tradition by younger brothers Wayne and Dale. While the older brothers Buzzie and Wayne were on the road in the northeast making a name for themselves, younger brother Dale was back home racing with his dad in central Florida. In fact Dale was developing into a very talented driver and according to older brother Wayne, " if any of us would have made it he would have". That hope ended late one afternoon when Dale and his father were killed when a drunk driver crossed the center line of U S Highway 301 and crashed head on into their truck.

It is now over thirty years later and one of the family has made it to the big show. David Reutimann has taken the family tradition all the way to the top. He represents three generations of drivers who were also skilled mechanics and fabricators who built their own cars and established a reputation of being a class act.

David now drives for Michael Waltrip Motorsports and is out there on the biggest stage in American sports. Being from the same area I feel a sort of kinship to the Reutiman family. I grew up not far from Zephyrhills and traveled the short distance on Highway 301 to Golden Gate Speedway to watch Buzzie, Wayne, and Dale tear up the track and competition.

Being a part of NASCAR's top series has always been a dream shared by the Reutimann family, but to have the 00 on the side of David's car is truly the stuff of which dreams are made. You see the Reutimanns not only have a rich tradition in racing, but have been associated with the 00 since the early days back in Zephyrhills.

David now continues the proud tradition of the old 00 and of living up to the family creed of going first class all the way.

Forget Fox

I have had enough of Fox and I am done with them. Whoever decided to change that site can fold it five ways and put it where the sun don't shine. They have ruined that place.

The last straw came when I went to ed hardiman's blog and the text was missing. I contacted him and recieved a link from ed which proved to be no help. Way too many people have disappeared from the boards for me to care about that community any longer.

I apologize for the rant, but I needed to get that off my chest.

Thank you and take care.

Tampa Bay Trauma

Let me start this off by congradulating Mark Buehrle of the Chicago White Sox on the perfect game he pitched against the Rays yesterday. Tampa Bay's hitters had no answer for the crafty left hander.
It seems that the Rays are running out of answers to a lot of questions. For example, what has happened to their starting pitching. A unit that last year was among the best and now is barely keeping their collective heads above water.
Speaking of water, the old debate on which side of the bay a new stadium for the Rays should be built has flared up again. The only thing that everyone seems to agree on is that the stadium must be built. It's a tired old argument and I won't bore you with the details, suffice it to say that this might get ugly.
In the meantime Tampa Bay continues to search for some relief for their pitching problems. Roy Halladay's name has surfaced as a possible solution to the staffs lack of consistency. Halladay has a home in the area and is rumored to have expressed an interest in playing for the Rays. The major obstacle for this kind of move is of course money. The Rays don't have any.
That's where Scott Kazmir comes into the picture. Tampa Bay is looking to deal the left hander in order to free up some cash. Kazmir is a good pitcher, but he has lost some velocity after an injury last year. Odds are the Rays will have to part with a prospect or two to make any real splash deal work.
Tampa Bay needs to balance the fact that they are still very much alive in the race for the wild card spot and realizing that they need help to compete for the big prize.