You'll have that in the big city
Call me an Interbay Superstar acolyte. While I'll never have the style, glamour, or connections of Rachel*, I'm trying to make the most of my new world here in Pinellas -- while remembering my roots. Thus, I'm not really living the South Tampa - St. Pete lifestyle as much as I am the Lutz-Oldsmar-Clearwater. It's like cutting your Manhattan with tap water. Call me a Redneck Interbay Superstar, a rover, a wanderer, a vagabond...
Call me what you will, the last two nights have been fruitless and toothless, but there's a story in every smile.
In my never-ending quest to find actual Devil Ray fans watching baseball, I headed out Friday night to watch the Anaheim game (10:05 start) and figured the Clearwater Dogwater Cafe would be a good place -- a well respected sports bar, yadda. Well, it was half empty, and despite the game being underway, and signs posted EVERYWHERE advertising drink specials during Rays games, it wasn't on any of the televisions. I'd committed myself, though, and the bartender found the game for me. I stayed through the seventh, then headed over to the lauded 420 Park Place. The band was playing The Bangles, and were pretty good, but a good band can't help a dead establishment, so I rolled out after a Select and found myself back at Eddie's in Dunedin. I got the lowdown on the places to be from some guys at the bar, and headed home. Little to say about my Friday night adventures.
I was more determined to find a good spot to watch the game on Saturday. I ran down to the US 19 Mugs & Jugs, which was packed. Despite having, oh, 400 or so televisions, zero were tuned to the Rays. I asked the bartender if the one television NOT tuned to the boxing match (it was showing Law & Order) could be tuned to the Rays, and she snapped at me. I don't know if rudeness is part of the decor at Mugs & Jugs, but I decided I had better places to be.
Where else would I be guaranteed to find people watching the game but at Ferg's, the sports bar across from Tropicana Field? So I ventured into St. Pete, wandered past the homeless dudes, and walked into Ferg's. A Jimmy Buffett tribute band played to a crowd of 50-somethings and the NASCAR race was on all the televisions. I walked past a "Private Party" sign and into a private party for Rays pitcher Doug Waechter. At least they had the game on in there, but I felt guilty taking their beer, so I drove down Central Avenue and on a whim stopped in a tiny joint called Steve's.
Your usual hole-in-the-wall, Steve's had a pool table, new jukebox, some hipster kids near the front, and some grizzled old men huddled around the ancient television in back watching... the Devil Rays. The grizzled old men were true fans, and I enjoyed watching the middle innings, though being trapped into a conversation with a dude without his teeth whom I relied upon the tone of his voice to determine how I ought to respond to his mumblings. I excused myself to bowl, using the incentive of $500 to the first 300 game as inspiration. Steve gives free drinks to every 220 game, but I could only manage a 218.
I told Steve I was going next door for open mic at Cafe Bohemia, where I drank some unspecified Hollish ale and listened to a pink-haired lounge singer whom I'm sure is some kind of cult figure over here. If anything, it was true St. Pete, and when they packed up, I went back nextdoor to rap with the hipster kids.
Gave 420 a second chance, and it turned out to be the last. Ran out to Eddie's, and the parking lot was nearly empty. Finally dropped by JJ's Prime Time and found the sparse crowd friendly, if... sparse. Undaunted, I rolled over to Hillsborough for last call at Chase Club, and... well, you can probably figure out where this is going. The brunette wasn't impressed with my game, so I rolled it on back to Dunwater Harbor.
If you think we're giving up, you're crazy. It's a new town, it'll take some shakes to get the snowflakes falling. And Steve's a cool dude.
Also, this story was just on SportsCenter, and it's totally changed my opinion of Kobe Bryant. Eh, not totally. Somewhatally.
