The year was 1998. Bill Clinton was in the White House, "Titanic" was cleaning up at the Oscars, and in a dome in St. Petersburg, Florida, a baseball team with neon-purple gradients on their jerseys finally took the field. It was the birth of the 1998 Tampa Bay Devil Rays.
Honestly, if you weren't there, it’s hard to describe the aesthetic. It was peak 90s. The expansion era of Major League Baseball was hitting its stride, and after years of failed attempts to lure the Giants or the White Sox to the Gulf Coast, Tampa finally had its own identity. It wasn't exactly a winning identity—not yet, anyway—but it was ours.
Most people remember the 99 losses. They remember the cavernous, slightly depressing feeling of Tropicana Field before the renovations. But there is a lot more to that inaugural season than just a basement-dwelling record. It was a chaotic mix of aging superstars looking for one last paycheck and young kids who weren't quite ready for the show.
The 1998 Tampa Bay Devil Rays: Building a Team from Scratch
How do you even start a franchise? In 1998, the Devil Rays' ownership, led by Vince Naimoli, decided the best path was a "win-now" veteran presence. Looking back, that was probably a mistake. But man, it made for some interesting box scores.
They went out and got Wade Boggs. Yes, that Wade Boggs. The Red Sox and Yankees legend. He was 40 years old. They grabbed Fred McGriff, the "Crime Dog," who was still a legitimate power threat. They even had Quinton McCracken patrolling center field, who actually turned out to be one of the bright spots of that first year.
The expansion draft itself was a weird time. The Arizona Diamondbacks were doing the same thing at the same time, and they eventually took a very different path toward a World Series. The Devil Rays? They were stuck in the American League East. Think about that for a second. You are a brand-new team, and your "neighborhood" consists of the 114-win New York Yankees, a peak Pedro Martinez-era Red Sox, and a very competitive Baltimore Orioles squad.
It was a literal slaughterhouse.
Opening Day at The Trop
March 31, 1998. It was a sellout. 45,369 people crammed into what was then called the ThunderDome (and later Tropicana Field) to see the Devil Rays take on the Detroit Tigers. Wilson Alvarez was on the mound for Tampa. He was their big-money free-agent pitcher.
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He didn't make it out of the third inning.
The Devil Rays lost 11-6. It was a messy, long game that set the tone for much of the season. But for the fans in the stands, it didn't really matter that they lost. Professional baseball had finally arrived in a market that had been teased for two decades.
The Weird Stats and Surprising Stars
If you look at the 1998 Tampa Bay Devil Rays roster today, it feels like a fever dream. You had Bobby Witt throwing heat. You had a young Rolando Arrojo, who actually represented the team in the All-Star Game. Arrojo was fascinating—a Cuban defector with a deceptive delivery who managed to win 14 games for a team that only won 63 total.
Think about that. One guy accounted for nearly 25% of the team's entire win column.
- Fred McGriff hit .284 with 19 homers. He was the steady hand.
- Wade Boggs hit the first home run in franchise history.
- Quinton McCracken led the team in hits (179) and batting average (.292).
- Bubba Trammell showed flashes of being a cult hero with his power.
The pitching, however, was a disaster. Outside of Arrojo, the rotation was a revolving door of "who's that?" and "oh, I forgot he was still playing." The team ERA was 4.35, which doesn't sound terrible in the steroid era, but when your offense is struggling to put up runs, every lead feels fragile.
Why the "Devil" in the Name Disappeared
You can't talk about the 1998 team without mentioning the name. The 1998 Tampa Bay Devil Rays featured that iconic (or eye-searing, depending on who you ask) rainbow gradient logo.
The "Devil" part of the name was actually controversial from the jump. Local religious groups in Florida weren't thrilled about it. Naimoli reportedly received tons of letters protesting the name. It took another decade before Stuart Sternberg bought the team and shortened it to just "the Rays," shifting the branding from a deep-sea creature to a burst of sunshine. But for the purists, that 1998 jersey with the purple, yellow, and green is the holy grail of thrift store finds.
The Larry Rothschild Era
Larry Rothschild was the first manager. He had the impossible task of managing a roster built of spare parts. He lasted a few seasons, but 1998 was his biggest test. He was a pitching coach by trade, and you could see him trying to squeeze every ounce of life out of a bullpen that was constantly overtaxed.
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The fans were patient, mostly. They were just happy to have hot dogs and professional ball in an air-conditioned building during a Florida July. But the honeymoon period with the front office started to sour pretty quickly when it became clear that the "veteran-heavy" strategy wasn't resulting in many "W"s.
The Long-Term Impact of the 1998 Season
What did 1998 actually teach the baseball world? It taught us that expansion in the AL East is playing the game on "Hard Mode."
While the Diamondbacks were able to build a winner relatively quickly in the NL West, the Devil Rays spent the better part of a decade as the laughingstock of the league. However, the failures of the 1998–2005 era eventually led to a total philosophy shift.
They stopped trying to buy old stars. They started hoarding draft picks. They started valuing defense and pitching over everything else. The 1998 season was the necessary "rock bottom" that eventually gave us the 2008 World Series run. Without the pain of those early years, the "Rays Way" of hyper-efficient, low-budget winning never would have been invented.
Misconceptions About the 1998 Roster
People think that team was just a bunch of nobodies. Not true.
You had Hall of Famer Wade Boggs. You had Fred McGriff, who eventually made the Hall of Fame. You had Roberto Hernandez in the bullpen, who was one of the most feared closers in the game at the time. The talent was there, it just didn't fit together. It was a "Fantasy Baseball" roster from 1993 dropped into the reality of 1998.
Also, people say Tropicana Field was a dump from day one. Honestly? In 1998, it was considered a miracle of engineering because it kept the rain out. Florida summer storms are no joke. Before the Trop, professional baseball in Florida was basically a series of rain delays.
The Reality of 63-99
Finishing last in the division by 51 games is a special kind of pain. The 1998 Yankees finished 114-48. The Devil Rays weren't just in a different league; they were on a different planet.
But there were moments. There was a stretch in June where they looked almost competent. There was the emergence of Esteban Yan. There was the sheer joy of seeing a professional double play turned in St. Pete.
If you are a collector or a historian, the 1998 season is a goldmine. The memorabilia from that year is everywhere in central Florida. It represents a time of pure optimism before the reality of the "losing seasons" grind set in.
What You Can Learn from the 1998 Devil Rays Today
If you're looking for lessons in sports management or just want to appreciate how far the franchise has come, look at the roster construction of that inaugural year.
- Don't overpay for past performance. The Rays learned this the hard way with their veteran-heavy '98 squad. Today, they are the kings of trading players before they get expensive.
- Market identity matters. The neon gradients were cool but maybe a bit too "extreme 90s." The modern rebrand is more sustainable, but the 1998 gear is what sells for $150 on eBay right now.
- Patience is a requirement. Expansion teams rarely fly out of the gate. It took the Rays ten years to have a winning season.
Actionable Steps for Fans and Collectors
If you're looking to dive deeper into the history of the 1998 Tampa Bay Devil Rays, here is how you should spend your time.
- Track down a 1998 Inaugural Season Program. They are relatively cheap on secondary markets and give a great glimpse into how the team was marketed to a skeptical Florida public.
- Watch the Opening Day highlights. You can find grainy footage of the first pitch on YouTube. It’s a trip to see the original turf and the old scoreboard.
- Research Rolando Arrojo. He is the most underrated player in franchise history. His 1998 season was statistically incredible given the team he had playing behind him.
- Check out the "Devil Rays" section at the Ted Williams Museum. Located inside Tropicana Field, it houses some of the best artifacts from that first season, including gear worn by Wade Boggs.
The 1998 season wasn't about winning a ring. It was about proving that baseball could survive in a place where people said it would fail. They lost a lot of games, sure. But they started a legacy that eventually turned into one of the most consistently competitive teams in the modern era.