John Romano: 'We're supposed to be booing the Cubs. We're supposed to be loud!'

TAMPA, Fla. — The cheer began low and hopeful, growing in intensity and volume as other voices joined the chorus.

It was the ninth inning at Tropicana Field, and the tying run was in scoring position. Fans were on their feet and decorum was losing its grip.

"Let’s go, Yan-kees! Let’s go, Yan-kees!"

You would think we’d be used to this by now. After all, opposing fans have been swarming the Trop’s bleachers for nearly three decades. Yankees. Red Sox. Cubs. Orioles. Doesn’t matter. The bigger the game, the more the interlopers spread.

It’s not quite unprecedented, but it can be unnerving. After a season when Tropicana Field was silenced by a hurricane, the phenomenon returned as forceful as ever in 2026’s opening homestand. First a three-game set with the Cubs, and now the Yankees have invaded.

Is it fair to say that nearly half the crowd has been cheering against the hometown team? It’s certainly felt that way, particularly when things are going well for the visitors. At times, it’s felt like acquaintances showing up in your living room just to mock you.

Lisa Sampiero was at one of the Cubs games, and was tempted to take a picture of the crowd and turn it into a game of “Where’s Waldo?” Except instead of searching for a cartoon character in a red-and-white striped sweater, she was looking for a single Rays fan in her viewfinder.

“My heart just breaks for the players. We’re supposed to be booing the Cubs. We’re the ones who are supposed to be super loud,” said Dunedin’s Sampiero, who was at the Rays’ inaugural game in 1998 and tries to attend 10-20 games a season. “How would you feel going to work and being booed — maybe not booed but hearing chants for the other team — every night. It felt like there were a few hundred of us. You couldn’t hear us over the Cubs fans.

“It pisses me off. We should be drowning them out, not them drowning us out.”

There are reasons for this. Heaven knows, it’s been examined before.

Yes, the Rays are an expansion team with less history than most. Yes, Tampa Bay is a community filled with people from somewhere else. Yes, Florida is a tourism destination. Yes, the lack of major corporations in the market can make it difficult to sell season tickets. Yes, yes, yes.

But even with those acknowledgements, it’s still pretty astounding that the Trop can occasionally turn into Fenway South or Wrigley South. The Rays have been around for 29 seasons. They’re akin to the Mets circa 1990. An entire generation of fans has grown up in the Rays era, and now they’re raising children of their own.

Shouldn’t Tampa Bay have outgrown this?

“It was pretty eye-opening at the beginning. I’m not from here, I didn’t know what to expect but I did not expect that. I think we were all a little shook up by that,” said Rick Vaughn, who came to the Rays from the Baltimore Orioles and Washington Redskins as vice president of communications two years prior to the inaugural season. “I’m kind of disappointed that it hasn’t changed over the years but there are a lot of things that go into it. It’s not just the (lack of) fans or apathy or whatever you want to call it.

“I think we just need to accept it. There’s nothing we can do about it. It’s one of the reasons we live here. People enjoy being in this area, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change. We don’t have to apologize for that.”

It’s not like it’s a secret around the league. Players who arrive in Tampa Bay typically understand the atmosphere they’re about to encounter. And there have been a handful (Zach — cough, cough — Eflin) who have taken shots at Rays crowds after switching to a different uniform.

But, for the most part, Rays players are diplomatic about playing in less-fervent surroundings. They make sure to compliment the Rays fans who do show up. And they usually grow to appreciate the fans of other teams because it’s more fun to play in front of a larger split audience than a smaller, partisan crowd.

Nick Martinez is experiencing his first homestand as a Ray this week, but said he lived through a similar situation with Dodgers fans invading San Diego.

“I think just being in Tampa in the beautiful, great state of Florida, a lot of people like to retire here. Snowbirds move down here and take over our state,” Martinez said. “I think it’s just something to get used to. I joked around with (Padres CEO Erik) Greupner one year when we sold playoff ticket only to Padres fans. I said, ‘Why don’t we do that during the season?’ He said, ‘Because in the regular season it doesn’t matter who the fans are. As long as the seats get sold, it’s good for everyone.’”

There is truth to that. Much of America knows Tampa Bay as the place that struggles to draw baseball fans, but they don’t know the half of it. The Rays would be in deep trouble if they didn’t sell so many tickets to fans of visiting teams.

Is that sad? Amusing? Embarrassing?

Yes.

But the Rays also averaged 21,871 fans during the first four games of the homestand. It’s the largest four-day audience to open a season in Tampa Bay since 2012.

“There are a lot of Rays fans. I know the Cubs fans were loud but so were our fans,” said pitcher Ryan Pepiot. “It’s easy to say their fans were louder and there was a big discrepancy because they won the last two games, they had some big innings. But our fans were loud on opening day when we won, and nobody is talking about that.

“We get it. There are a lot of people who move here, live here, snowbirds going back and forth. I just think it’s fun to see the whole place packed. It just makes it feel more like a major-league game.”

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