Montreal Bay Ex-Rays
Update (29 September): The Rays have called off the banner for the postseason. Perhaps best to not tell your fans you’re leaving in the middle of a pennant chase. Thoughts below stand though…
Earlier this week, Tampa Bay Rays President Matt Silverman indicated that the team plans to hoist a banner this postseason. However, this banner isn’t to celebrate any achievement of the Rays but instead promote the team’s long-rumored move to Montreal as part of a “sister-city” agreement with Tampa. And this makes total sense, because what’s a better way to thank a fanbase for their support than to advertise your departure in the middle of a pennant chase. Under this deal, the Rays would split their home games between Tampa and Montreal (41 games a piece) and become the first MLB franchise with 2 home stadiums in different countries. Underpinning this decision by the Rays however, is a series of considerations about public financing for stadiums, baseball economics, and the viability of baseball in Florida writ-large.
First let’s establish the conditions: the Rays are locked into a lease with the city of St. Petersburg, FL (not Tampa) through 2027, that binds the team to play in Tropicana Field. This has long been a point of contention between the franchise and the city. For beginners, the Trop itself is a dilapidated facility, consistently ranking among the worst stadiums in baseball. Moreover, the stadium is difficult to access from downtown Tampa— where the majority of residents in the metro area live— making attendance a consistent problem for the Rays. This is not to mention the fact that the Tampa Bay Rays had long struggled as a franchise (up until the last decade) and compete with the more-popular New York Yankees, whose fanbase of tri-state area retirees in Florida often outdraws the Rays and who call actual Tampa their spring training home. Altogether, these compounding issues have made the matter of financial solvency and revenue a consistent problem for the Rays. Without a relaible fanbase, access to games, and terrible facilities, the Rays were not able to draw enough demand to match the supply of available tickets. Per Sportico, the Rays ranked 24th in MLB for revenue in both 2019 and the Covid-impacted 2020 (the latter despite an AL Championship and World Series appearance).
Now, let’s examine the actors in the center of the issue. From the municipal side, the City of St. Petersburg is caught in the center of this debacle. Responsible for managing and financing Tropicana Field, the city has every incentive to hold the Rays to its lease agreement, despite any effort the team may make to leave. The more games the Rays play in St. Pete, the more revenue the city is able to bring in, and the more its able to manage the large depreciating dome that it’s on the hook for. By contrast, its neighbor Tampa has different incentives at play. If the Rays were to move across the causeway to Tampa— even for 41 games— Tampa would be able to extract some of that revenue and economic benefit of the team. The same is true for Montreal, a city that has been starved of baseball since the Expos left for DC and who have a large domed depreciating asset themselves that must be paid for.
And this brings us to the principal actor at the center of the entire situation: the Tampa Bay Rays. Unable to extract enough revenue from their current situation, the former hedge-fund managers, investment bankers, and consultants in their operation decided that dividing the franchise amongst two cities is the optimal revenue option. By cutting the supply of available games for each city (from the typical limit of 82 home games to 41 a piece), the Rays can create more demand in either market. With half the options and half the seats over the course of a season, the Rays are able to create limits on supply and thereby increase prices in each market through discrimination. Moreover, this likely rids the Rays of an excess supply problem— it seemed slightly dubious in the first place that there was enough demand in Florida to fill 82 Tampa Bay Rays games a season. Now, with a more optimal number of home games, the Rays are able to eliminate this problem.
And I’ll say this: from a purely financial perspective, this outside-the-box thinking is great. The Rays win by getting not one but two new stadiums and effectively matching supply with demand across two different markets. But, thinking from the heart, this entire move is such a classic Rays decision— one that forgoes any sense of spirit for cold-hard excel spreadsheet glory. The Rays have been notorious for years for running a baseball team like a hedge-fund: trading star players like Chris Archer, Blake Snell, and David Price just as they reached arbitration years and became too expensive. In this way, the Rays have become the posterchild for the next stage of moneyball.
And in the decision to split time between Tampa and Montreal, we see the dark side of this philosophy: the Rays have lived long enough to be the villain. The mechanisms that underpin the Rays operation are surplus value and net present value. A player (such as Blake Snell) is valuable to the Rays as long as he offers surplus value (his on-field production is more valuable than the dollar amount on his contract). When the latter eclipses the former, it makes more sense to trade Snell for a haul of prospects who have greater Net Present Value by virtue of their team-control, cost, and future value to the team. Through this style of thinking that represents “trusting the process” on steroids, the Rays have gamified front office operations and convinced fans that the mark of success isn’t just winning but winning on a budget. This clearly plays out in public discourse around service time for prospects where fans openly root for players to be controlled and underpaid because of the surplus value that this would bring their team.
And going back to the decision to move from St. Pete to Tampa/Montreal, the Rays have gone further to dupe their fans. Not only have the Rays convinced fans that success should be measured based on surplus value, but they’ve convinced fans in two different countries that having a Major League Baseball team for just 41 games is worth it.
Make no mistake, the Rays decision to move to Tampa and Montreal for 41 games a piece is not about giving fans better access to games or growing the sport across the border. It’s about COLD HARD CASH. Just as the Rays have made clear when they traded fan favorite superstars to optimize around the margins, they have exemplified again that winning at cost is more important than their customer experience. Once the Rays reach their 41 games in Tampa by the All-Star Break and head north to finish the season in Quebec, they will pay no attention to the fans they left behind in Florida until the next year. Without a doubt, attracting talent— both on and off the field— will be more difficult without a consistent home stadium.
And I know I come from a position of weakness as a Yankees fan— arguing that the small-market Rays are exploiting baseball’s economic system for their benefit while Goliath historically has bought its way to championships. However, the upcoming drama that will unplay between Tampa, Montreal, St. Petersburg, and MLB illustrates the downside of celebrating David too much.