Nowadays, stathead discussions are centered around fantasy teams, but inevitably, the discussion turns to favorite players and, of course, favorite teams.When I'm involved, curiousity overwhelms those around me after they take a quick glance at the mysterious green hat that sits atop my head and inquire about the potentially foreign logo that graces its front.
"Is that some Japanese cap?," one will ask.
"He must've gotten that at Sea World," Quips another.
Alas, I'm embroiled in a 15-minute explanation about the money they perceive I foolishly squandered on my Tampa Bay Devil Rays hat, and how I came to fall helplessly for the lovable losers from St. Pete.
It's not an easy explanation, especially when I have to navigate the moans and groans of how I began my baseball fandom as a die-hard Yankees fan, idolizing the likes of Donnie Baseball, Steve Sax and Mel "Soul Glo" Hall.
Maybe it has to do with my older sister, who moved to Tampa upon graduating from college, thus providing me the opportunity to adopt a team other than my Dad's. Perhaps the reason lies with my baseball-hating best friend, who attended college near the Rays' inexplicable indoor stadium, yet only forced himself to attend one game at the urging of his stepfather.
The truth, however, is simple - and stands the test of any argument or debate when defending one's team, regardless of sport: There is no true explanation for why I love the Rays.
Their uniforms are a disgrace, which makes me ponder why my $250 personalized Rays jersey was stolen from my car this past December. Their stadium is one of the most ill-thought out concepts in the history of the sport, is not particurly fan-friendly and will need a replacement sooner rather than later.
Devil Rays history is marred with precarious trades (Abreu for Stocker), signings (Greg Vaughn is awesome!) and draft picks (Dewon Brazelton over Teixeira and David Wright). Any momentum generated by the club is often stunted by an inability to compete within a division of exorbitant payrolls and larger market teams, and oftetimes, a style of baseball better equipped for the National League.
But still, with opening day each year, I live and die with each pitch. I wait, in hopes, that this will be the year for the lovable Rays, a team not that unlike the Bad News Bears; a team that lacked the talent and resources to compete, but somehow found a way to overcome being its own worst enemy to prevail in the end.
It's all about the hope, the triumph of the underdog and why I am, ultimately, a lifelong fan of the Devil Rays.
For better or worse, although the former comes around less often than the latter.
