BEST OF JIM ROME SHOW, MEMORIAL DAY 2010

Knowing that just going to the ballpark isn't cool, the Tampa Bay Rays are looking to convert their yard into a "baseball nightclub." I like it. But the first thing you'll have to do is change the name of the joint, because Tropicana Field won't work as a club. You need something tight, and sleek like "Juice", or "Squeeze", or maybe just "813". And rip out the turnstiles at the entrances, and replace them with red velvet ropes, and huge dudes in leather jackets, earpieces and clipboards.

And everyone knows you can have the pimpest, most decked out club in the country. But if you don't have a line outside, you're nothing.

Season ticket holders are on the list and get in first. Scrubs in the upper deck wait behind the rope without a hand-stamp. Because you know, you're at capacity. Unless, you're a really attractive female and then you get right in! Oh, and kill the ice cream in a helmet and domestic drafts, because it's not a club unless there's bottle service…(and it's not bottle service until a couple of hotties come by, make themselves a drink with your liquor and just keep moving).

Oh, and no bottle service is complete without the requisite 1,000 percent mark up. Oh, and condolences to granny working the organ upstairs, but she's out. You need to bring in a name DJ to spin for every home game. That's huge. Oh, and a dude in a tux in the restrooms for the smorgasbord of cigs, gum and musk.

While it's too bad a quality organization like the Rays have to resort to this, at least they're smart enough to acknowledge it. I like it. Forget the peanuts and Crackerjack, buy me some peach Schnapps and Cognac.