Tropicana Field

trolled around the stadium to check out the place and really get a feel for it (I have been to Tropicana Field three times before, but never thought to check out the commodities aside from the beer vendors and restrooms). The outside of the stadium is a vast expanse of nothing, rich with closed businesses, desolate housing developments, and a total lack of identity. Truly a far cry from the neighborhood surrounding Fenway Park, which is alive with bars, stores, cart vendors, and others attractions. Inside of the stadium, they've got a lot of the same features that you will find at other professional sports stadiums, and not much else to go above and beyond that. Once you get onto the field it's much the same. An atrocious dome encompassing a medium sized grand-stand, meager outfield seating, and half-empty luxury suites (Kind of sounds like the new Yankee Stadium, minus the dome). The only place worth sitting is close to the field, where you can really get down there and close to the players. I must admit that I look down upon a stadium with no real bull pens, but when you're within reach of Jonathan Papelbon and Jason Varitek, it's a pretty cool experience.

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t the last place in the division, or all of baseball.

The Rays play their home games at beautiful Tropicana Field, also known as Fenway II.

It's redeeming features include extreme cleanliness (they have no fans to get it messy), those damn catwalks that are always getting hit by balls and confusing the umps, that sweet-ass heckler, and of course Raymond, the mascot that appears to be half smurf, half walrus (koo koo ka choo). 

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