Live From The Trop

Wondering if Rays fans were desperate to enjoy a little success in their first-ever postseason game?

In the first inning of today's ALDS opener against the White Sox, the fans at the Trop were cheering called strikes as if each were the final out of the World Series. I watched the first inning, but I couldn't hear it. It's deafening in here. Cowbells are one thing -- this is as throaty a crowd as I can recall at a major league baseball game.

Outside, during our live pregame show on FSN Florida, I was practically assaulted as I tried to do standups near the Rotunda entrance. Not only are they amped, they're shorn -- as in mohawks, the look du jour of today's Rays fan in the know. It's positively electric here.

At least, it was pretty electric when Evan Longoria homered to open scoring...the mood was dampened a tad when the Sox came back to take a third-inning lead. Lot of baseball left...but the atmosphere here is charged.

(pause)

Evan. Longoria.

(long pause)

Back at my usual Tampa hotel, in the high-rent district (cough), and now have some time to digest what I saw tonight.

First: the crowd support tonight was outstanding. I mean, outlandish. Remember back around '02 when Angels fans busted out the Thunderstix? It was that loud. Louder, I think. The Rays fans have a thing about cowbells -- which, if they really stopped and thought about it, is kind of insulting to Tampa Bay as a "cowtown" -- and they ain't skeered to rattle those puppies. That building tonight brought back memories of the loudest, most emotional sports venue I've ever personally witnessed, which happened to be Game 7 of the 1995 NBA Eastern Conference Finals, when the homestanding Orlando Magic beat up on the Indiana Pacers.

It was close. Not quite as loud -- 35,000 fans in a cavernous stadium can't generate the heat of 15,000 in a building half the size -- but it was close.

Second: when I stepped into the Rays locker room tonight to gather interviews for the live postgame show on FSN Florida, I was stunned at the silence.

This was business as usual for these guys. Every player I talked to, from Rocco Baldelli to JP Howell to Carl Crawford to Dan Wheeler to Carlos Pena, all repeated the same mantra: we're sticking to our routine. This is just another day. It's game 163. Blah blah, and blah.

Yet, it's not blah. It's for real. It's how these guys do their thing. I've been fortunate enough to cover the Rays several times this season on FSN Florida, and I've been consistently struck by their supreme sense of confidence. Not cocky, mind you, but confident. They honestly believe they're supposed to be here.

Stop and think about that for a moment.

The Rays, as has been written a thousand times already, have absolutely no business being here, if we judge that statement by their own history. Ten years in baseball, nine years dead last, one year second-to-last. They had the worst record in the majors last year. And they just waxed the White Sox.

That was one of the best baseball games I have ever seen. For a variety of reasons.

And read this: Chicago will be lucky to win one game in this series. Tampa Bay is going to the American League Championship Series, folks. They remind me quite a bit of the 2006 Florida football Gators. They ain't losing. Not this time.

One more thing, relevant to our football audience: after the Rays game, I went to dinner in downtown St. Pete with my cousin Rick, who lives in the area and was lucky enough to score tickets to the game. We ate dinner and watched South Florida's home game against Pitt -- what a night to be a sports fan in the Bay Area! -- and I made a comment in the bar that I wish I had posted here, because you won't believe me now.

With the score tied at 7-7, I said to nobody in particular: "The Bulls are gonna lose this game."

Bingo.

All I'm saying is, I'm on a streak. So set your schedules for the ALCS.