I Will Not Root for the Rays

OK, I know it's been a long time since I managed to post something, but aside from the phenomenal collapse of the U.S. economy thanks to our absent (-minded) president, the Cubs thanks to an epic fail, and my social life thanks to the beginning of school, I haven't had much to report. But I can't let this go by without comment. You see, the Rays are going to the World Series after spending last year (and pretty much every year before that) as the laughing stock of the entirety of Major League Baseball, making even the Royals and Pirates look not so completely ridiculous. They've been held up as Exhibit A for the case against expansion teams, they've played games for fewer fans than most minor league teams, and they spent a long-suffering decade bearing the name of Satan himself. Now, no longer bedeviled by their mascot, they've achieved what every club hopes for at this point in the year: they're still playing.

My main problem with this is that their fans in no way deserve to see them in the World Series. I know I've just invoked the ire of the entire state of Florida, but I'm willing to take that risk. See, if you look at the attendance numbers from this year and compare them to last year, you'll see that the difference in season-long fan attendance in Tampa Bay was 391,760. Yes, in a year where they went from worst to first, they saw a magnificent 28% spike in attendance, rocketing them to 26th place in overall attendance and pushing their average attendance to just over 50% of their stadium's capacity. The Rays, who held the best record in the majors for much of the season, continued to play most of their home games in an empty stadium.

Meanwhile, the teams with the largest attendance numbers have largely come up empty this postseason. No New Yorker needs to be reminded of the astounding collapse of the Mets and the ineptitude of the Yankees this year. LA is dealing with two clubs who made earlier-than-expected exits. We Cubs fans are so numbed by a century of failure that to be swept in the first round of the playoffs barely registers as a disappointment. The Red Sox mounted one of the most amazing single-game comebacks in postseason history only to fall two runs short in the deciding Game 7. The only team remaining to oppose the Rays are the long-suffering Phillies, who hail from a city that's been waiting for a major sports championship since just after I was born. No, arena football in no way counts as major.

As a team, the Rays haven't even entered their teenage years. There are no adults who have grown up as Rays fans. Hell, there aren't even any children who've grown up Rays fans. No one can name the "great" Rays players of the past. This is a team without a history, without tradition, without even a decent mascot.

Don't get me wrong, the Rays have fielded quite a team this year and have had great success. But much of that success (43 wins, to be exact) came at the expense of an Eastern Division that seemed unable to put together any kind of game against them. They enter the World Series at a time when most of the country would be hard pressed to name two of their players. They proudly flaunt their ugly haircuts. They're young. They'll have their chances. They deserve to be disappointed.

So, much as it pains me to do so, I'll be cheering on the Phillies in this World Series. This is likely to make life with SecondLaw slightly unbearable, but I'll deal with it. At least the Phillies have a proud history that's been grounded in futility and championship drought. They've been waiting. They've earned their place in the Series.

As one grammatically-challenged fan asked, "Why can't us?"