They will be named the "Reno 911s", right?

So what happens to Tucson? Do we have a musical chairs affiliate game again? Do the Royals move their from Omaha while Rosenblatt undergoes renovations? Are there any teams unhappy with their PCL affiliate?

No idea what happens to Tucson.

I'm thinking the new DBacks affiliate should call itself "Reno Mustang Rancheros"

It's actually the team in Tucson that's picking up and moving to Reno. It couldn't come close to turning a profit in the Old Pueblo.

For some reason, they couldn't get anybody to come out to games out in the blazing sun in a crappy part of town, even though it's a shiny, relatively new (1998) stadium. Tucson had some ridiculously low attendance for its AAA games--like just a few thousand on average for a metro area that exceeds 1m. The town has no trouble supporting the U of A--I've never seen as many people at a football game. And the team stinks! Somebody who knows minor leagues better might be able to guess what that kind of attendance is worth. AA? High A?

What you would get moving in is a pretty nice stadium. But somehow I doubt a AAA team moves in. But for my part, I'd rather see a game at old Hi Corbett (remember the Spring Training site in "Major League"?), in the middle of town, than drive way out to Tucson Electric Park.

Losing a AAA team (to Reno of all places) is bad enough for the town's ego. What's worse is the trend for Spring Training in Tucson. The White Sox are basically out next year, and the Rockies are making noises that they want a new stadium if they're going to stay. I guess the massive Phoenix center-of-gravity for ST Baseball is too much. Sadly, I can't say I blame them.

I won't be surprised if the Dbacks & Rockies are out of Tucson in a couple of years.

The $50 million project will require the demolition of the downtown fire station

There's a city with its priorities straight!

Yeah, I know I cherry-picked the text. Just goin' fer some cheap laffs, folks.

Who knows? Attending a game in Reno could end up being "The biggest little mistake of your life."

A bigger mistake might be at the casinos as the limit hold 'em games there are brutal...

Apropos of not that damn much, here's my Reno story:

In 2003 I took a month-long-find-myself road trip. Just me, my car, and about 8000 miles of Pappasesque delights. I played it mostly by ear, but I did have my copy of that Road Trip USA book by Jamie Jensen (I think Pappas actually contributed to it, but that's neither here nor there). I used the book for sites, but found my own food and accommodations for the most part.

The night I made it into Reno followed a wondrous day. I woke up that morning in Moab, Utah, and went hiking in Arches National Park before dawn, watching the sunrise from Delicate Arch. Later, I went back to town, had a great breakfast, and then hit the road across Utah. I was going to stop in Ely, Nevada for the night, but I got there much sooner than I thought I would, mostly because I kept the cruise control at about 100 mph for a good part of my day (U.S. 50 past Great Basin isn't heavily patrolled). After a bite to eat and a look around Ely (dreary, snowy day up on that mountain) I decided to bust across Nevada (the Loneliest Road) and make Reno before bed. So I did, again breaking all kinds of speed records while contemplating the scenery and my place in the cosmos. I rolled into Reno sometime after 9pm, if I remember correctly.

Euphoric from a wonderful day on the road, I was in the mood to try something different, so I let Jamie Jensen and Road Trip USA guide me to some local color in the form of a motel they called "quaint" and "retro" and "charming" named "The Heart O' Town." From the street it looked, well, OK. It had a neat neon sign and didn't look too seedy, so I figured what the hell. I went inside to ask for a room.

The office -- attached to the manager's apartment -- smelled like cabbage. An old lady came out and took my name, money (cash only, please) and gave me a room key. I was starting to regret handing over my money (and giving my real name) but decided that I could handle anything that day. I walked up to my room and opened the door to see: a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A TV from the Ford administration. A red velvet bedspread with multiple questionable stains. The stench of bugspray and (maybe) death. Before I let my bag hit the floor, I turned on my heel and walked out.

Back in the office, not wanting to insult the proprietor, I mumbled something about making a mistake or mixed up plans (I don't remember) and my need to get my money back and leave. The old lady wasn't having it, though. No refunds. No way. Not possible. Because I was on a hiatus from practicing law -- and thinking about maybe never going back to it -- I had no stomach to argue my rights. It wasn't a lot of money, and I was willing to leave it on the table. As I walked out, the old lady yelled encouragingly "you can keep the key until morning if you want! The room is yours all night!"

My exhaustion catching up with me, I decided to go Velveeta that night, so I got on the freeway, got off at Sparks, and checked into a suburban Cross Country Inn situated next to an Outback Steakhouse. Ah, home! When I checked in I soon realized that some Cal-Nevada girls high school volleyball tournament was going on in town, because the lobby was filled with scores of tall and athletic sixteen year-old girls, most of them blond, most of them wearing bikinis as they made their way to the indoor pool. I was a five days unshaven and dusty dude wearing ratty clothes with full legal rights to a no-tell motel downtown all night, so I quickly separated myself from the surrounding nubility (I wasn't really tempted, but given my appearance, one sideways glance could have gotten me arrested), got into my room and immediately went to sleep. The next morning I planned to hang around Reno, but my friend from LA called me to tell me he scored Angels-Mariners tickets for that night, so I decided to drive to LA a day early.

So that's my Reno story.

You just wrote a treatment for the new Coen brothers movie, Craig. They haven't done Reno or Vegas yet, have they?

Re: more info on why Tucson is bolting from the 1998 stadium. There were apparently some political shenanigans that prevented the new ballpark from being built downtown (which even then was considered a textbook plan to revitalize an area that needed revitalizing). A local pol owned some land in the junky south part of town and hoped that a shiny new spring-training complex would revitalize the surrounding property values, and hey, the AAA team could play there in the summertime. Everyone was supposed to win.