Columnist Steve Carp: St. Pete’s no place for a Final Four

Steve Carp

Friday, March 26, 1999 | 10:12 a.m.

Steve Carp covers college basketball for the Las Vegas Sun. This columns is one in a series on the road to the Final Four.

TAMPA, Fla. -- Whoever thought it was a good idea to have the Final Four here shouldn't accept too many pats on the back.

It may look like a Final Four. It may seem like a Final Four. But it sure doesn't feel like a Final Four. Not when you can pick up a free copy of the Toronto Sun (a day late, mind you) and see Canadian flags flying everywhere.

Had I known, I would've brought a bag of loons and my Vancouver Canucks jersey.

Nothing against Canada, mind you. But if this is supposed to be one of America's premier sporting events, don't hold it where everyone, and I mean everyone, is coming to be outside, not indoors in some bogus dome.

OK, it's too late to do anything about it. But didn't the NCAA learn anything from 1996 when it held the Final Four in New York, even though the games were played in the swamps of Jersey?

That year, everyone was in Manhattan, then had to schlep across the Hudson River to get to the Meadowlands for the games. But New York seems like a small village compared to this place when it comes to proximity.

But apparently, the NCAA didn't learn. It got swept up by the effervescence of the Tampa organizing committee. And this is what you have.

Everything's so spread out, you're grateful your rental car has unlimited mileage. Here in Tampa Bay, which isn't a city, but more of a state of mind and convenience for the chamber of commerce, you want some Final Four flavor? Get behind the wheel and drive, baby.

It's a 40-minute drive to Tropicana Field, where the games will be played this weekend. It's a 20-minute drive to get downtown. There's traffic galore. And in these parts, you either drive 40 mph or 90 mph, depending on whether your car CD is cranking out Jerry Vale or Metallica. If you hear Springsteen, it means you're going the speed limit and you're normal.

One national columnist who shall go nameless in the event he has to return here, surveyed the situation. And as usual, he got it right.

"This sucks," he proclaimed. "Whoever thought they should have this here should be shot."

Understand this is a very nice place. It has a lot of atmosphere. The beaches are packed. People are spending money. The bars are doing great business. The weather's tremendous. George Strait's in town for the weekend. So is Marilyn Manson.

But with all due respect, it's hard to think about Mike Krzyzewski and Marilyn Manson in the same place.

The problem isn't so much that things here are so removed from each other. It's that there's too much competing for your attention. Is it Duke or the Dixie Chicks? Is it Michigan State or spring training? A day watching UConn or a day walking along the beach?

You go to the Final Four in a place like Indianapolis, New Orleans or San Antonio and the focus is on the event. Everywhere you go, it's hoops hysteria. People are talking Final Four, talking coaching changes, talking tickets, as in, "Have you got any?"

Here, you wonder if leaving for Tropicana Field today to make Saturday's tipoff of UConn-Ohio State is leaving too late. Chances are a Michigan State cheerleader won't win a bikini contest in one of the bars at the Pier in St. Pete. But maybe one of her classmates who's here on spring break will.

But if you look hard enough, you will get Final Four fever. The lobby at the Hyatt Regency downtown was busy with coaches, 90 percent of them armed with cell phones a la Bill Bayno, trying to score a tee time on a golf course, which may have been the second toughest thing to do. Getting a dinner reservation at Malio's, the restaurant where Roger Clemens and George Steinbrenner cut the deal to put the Rocket in Yankee pinstripes, is the toughest task this weekend.

Gonzaga's Dan Monson was all-lobby as he was holding court. So was new Baylor coach Dave Bliss. Former Georgetown coach John Thompson was also there. And no, I didn't ask him about the rumor that he was coming to UNLV to replace Bayno. I wasn't sure if the Sun had paid up my life insurance policy. The Hoyatollah is still a big dude and you don't want to get him mad at you.

The two pieces of coaching news from the lobby had Steve Fisher leaving the NBA to take the San Diego State job and Lorenzo Romar bailing on Pepperdine to go to St. Louis. Two odd fits -- a West Coast guy in Romar going to the Midwest and a Midwest guy in Fisher headed to the West Coast.

Over at the Tampa Convention Center, Hoop City was in full swing as fans mingled with Connecticut's players and coaches were doing the talk show circuit in the big hall when they weren't signing autographs.

And at the Ice Palace, guys were dunking and shooting threes at the 11th annual college slam dunk and 3-point contest was held.

The restaurants were busy. At Bern's, a popular steak place, Rhode Island's Jim Harrick, Missouri's Norm Stewart, Tim Welsh of Providence and Mark Gottfried of Alabama were all on hand, enjoying a nice dinner with family and friends.

Still, it doesn't have that Final Four excitement. At least not yet. Perhaps by the time the games tip off Saturday and there's 41,392 packed into Tropicana Field, it'll finally feel like the Final Four.

Then again, it could rain like it did last year during the South Regionals and it'll feel like Sea World, only you're in the water without a snorkel. There are people who attended last year's soakfest who still haven't completely dried out.

And if the atmosphere comes up short, what the hell. Just go to Ybor City, the town's old Cuban section, fire up a cigar and grab a cold Corona, grateful for the fact you didn't come all this way to see Marilyn Manson, and that next year the Final Four returns to Indy and all will be right with the world.