Sometime after the All-Star break, the Tampa Bay Rays will begin their inevitable decline in the American League East. It will happen without fanfare, and come October of this year, as the Red Sox and Yankees are readying themselves for another run at the World Series, bulldozers will be stationed on the Astroturf outfield of the Tropicana Stadium. At an appointed time, at, say, the minute of Evan Longoria’s birth on October 7th, 1985, the bulldozers will churn to life and they will knock down the outfield fence They will plow through the rows of bleacher seats that sat empty all year, save for days when the Red Sox or Yankees came to town. And then the Tampa Bay Rays will set about building the largest outfield in baseball history.
At least that’s what should happen.
Look: it’s time for the Tampa Bay Rays to realize some hard truths. This team has the misfortune of playing in the American League East, in direct competition with two of the wealthiest, smartest franchises in baseball. They suffer the indignity of playing ‘home’ games against hostile crowds of Red Sox and Yankee fans, and even after eleven seasons and one name change, they remain a team that lacks anything resembling an identity. They face a Sisyphean challenge of direct competition against better-funded opponents, and even if they reap gems from a top-rated farm system, it is unlikely that the franchise will ever be a consistent contender in the American League East.
To win, the Rays must first accept that the deck is stacked, and then do everything they can to get a new deck in play. They must come up with ways to neutralize the advantages of their opponents, while making it possible for a financially-strapped franchise with a small fan base to win ballgames and attract fans.
As I see it, constructing the largest outfield in baseball history would change the Tampa Bay franchise in three crucial ways. But before I address those changes, I should clarify that I am not merely advocating that the Rays should have a larger outfield than the one in San Diego, or the one in LA. What I am advocating is that the Rays take their outfield dimensions and push them back eighty to one hundred feet. I’m talking centerfield distances of 550 feet and corner distances of 420 feet. This is a drastic, historic change, but there is no rule against building a large outfield. And the benefits would be immediate and long-lasting:
Homefield Advantage/Visitor Disadvantage
Having the largest outfield in baseball presents a unique home-field advantage. Rays players would learn how to ‘play’ the new outfield much quicker than their opponents (just like Red Sox leftfielders typically know how to play the Green Monster better than opponents). Furthermore, the Rays could experiment with different defensive alignments: dramatic shifts, four outfielders, etc.
And opposing teams would suffer a defensive disadvantage. The thought of Manny Ramirez tracking fly balls in an expansive left, or Johnny Damon trying to get a throw in from deep center, would be worth the expense.
A large outfield doesn’t neutralize power: it shifts who has the power. Having large outfields would not, I think, decrease offense, so much as change the kind of offense that occurs. David Ortiz and Carlos Pena would not hit homeruns in that park, but Carl Crawford and Jacoby Ellsbury would. And on speed, the Rays have a clear edge on the Red Sox and Yankees. They currently lead the American League in steals, and were 3rd, 2nd, and 2nd in 2007, 2006, and 2005. They have outfielders who, at the very least, can get to the ball quickly.
Ease of Designing Team
It is easier to acquire speed and defense than it is to acquire power. By designing their outfield to reward speed and defense, the Rays would seek players who are a) readily available, and b) comparatively inexpensive. A fast player like Brian Roberts commands a salary of $8 million dollars. Adam Everett, a poor hitter but an elite fielder, received $2.8 million dollars. Meanwhile, a player like Jason Giambi, whose skills are in getting on-base and driving in runs, receives more than $20 million dollars per year from the Yankees. In the near-future, this will remain the case. A large outfield would allow the Rays to shift where they spent their money: instead of paying for the big hitters, they’d acquire inexpensive players whose skills would benefit their team, and only their team.
Branding
Finally, building the largest outfield in baseball would create, for the Rays, a strong identity. By eliminating out-of-the-park homeruns, the Rays would be opening the door for a different kind of baseball. ‘Old-Fashioned Baseball,’ or ‘Throwback Ball’ or ‘Baseball the Way It’s Meant to be Played.’ Whatever the hackneyed phrase, I am certain the media and fans would eat it up. Traditionalists would hail it as a return to a purer version of the game. Hell, I hate small ball, and I’d watch the Rays every time they played in that insane outfield.
What is clear is that the Rays would be playing a different kind of baseball. It would be interesting, very exciting, and unique. And, considering the home-field edge that such a park would allow and the affordability of acquiring players who would thrive in such an environment, I believe that such a change would allow the Rays would be competitive in their division.
In Summary
Look: there is every possibility that I’m wrong about this. It’s a stab in the dark, a thought that occurred to me once that I haven’t been able to shake.
What I know for certain is that the Tampa franchise has never been competitive. What I know for certain is that they play in a division against teams that are richer, smarter, and better-loved than they are. The Rays have had a nice run this year, but I’m not at all convinced that the Rays are for real, nor am I convinced that they will ever be competitive against the Yankees and Red Sox, at least not as things stand now. I think a whole lot of people want to believe the Rays can be competitive, mostly because all of us want to be optimists. We want to believe that underdogs can win and anything is possible. But from where I stand it seems highly unlikely that things are going to change, unless the Tampa Bay Rays take it upon themselves to cause change.
So cause that change, Tampa Bay. Start up the bulldozers, tear down the wall, and show us how to play a different kind of baseball.