Tropicana Field fans are invited to send text messages to report problems or ask for help

ST. PETERSBURG — Before Matt Garza threw his first pitch, a message scrolled across the signboard behind third base:

Need Help? Unruly Fans? Text Rays <space> issue and location to 41513.

"Here we go," Eric Weisberg told his co-workers Wednesday night.

They sat at a long table beneath the scoreboard, on a deck overlooking the wide expanse of Tropicana Field: a firefighter, a medic, the head of security, a St. Petersburg police officer and the cleaning crew chief. This group could take care of anything that might happen.

Weisberg, who oversees customer service for the Rays, had been preparing for this all summer. On Tuesday, workers installed a 28-foot banner above the field.

This week, it became official: The Trop has text tattling.

"We got a few pranks last night. But tonight, I don't know," Weisberg said Wednesday. "Things could get serious."

You could feel the tension in the stadium. So many people, so passionate about this push for the playoffs. And with Red Sox fans seeming to equal Rays' supporters, Weisberg worried about fights.

He hoped text tattling would help. If people texted in problems as soon as they started, Weisberg could dispatch one of his 140 ushers to keep things from escalating.

"We want to empower our fans, give them a voice," Weisberg said. Then — two minutes into the game — his laptop blinked and the first text rolled in.

• • •

"What does this mean?" Weisberg asked, squinting at his screen. The man next to him leaned over, raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

The first text said only:

(: alli :)

"I don't even know what that is," Weisberg said, shaking his head. "I don't know how to respond."

The system lets him choose from 10 preprogrammed responses, from "We need more information" to "No issue."

In this case, he was cryptic and noncommittal: "Thank you. Your message has been received by the Rays."

The next text came five minutes later: Annoying maniac on upper level right field.

Weisberg grabbed his binoculars, focused below the giant video screen. "I know who that is," he said, staring at a fan wearing sunglasses and a huge yellow wig. "That's the Cowbell Kid" — the ever-present Rays fan who whips up enthusiasm in the cheap seats.

A minute later, another message came from the same phone number.

Too much use of bell section 144 upper row.

"Monitoring the situation," Weisberg typed. "Bob," he called into his radio, "can you check on that guy?" Through the binoculars, he watched an usher approach the yellow-wigged fan. He saw the Cowbell Kid look up at the control booth and grin.

"Are you serious?" he asked through the radio. "It was him texting on himself? He wanted to see how long it would take someone to get there? Well, now he knows."

Weisberg sent a message to the Cowbell Kid: 2nd prank. Your number is now being blocked from the system.

• • •

Raymond James Stadium has text tattling. The Bucs started it last year. In baseball, the Orioles, Cardinals, Twins, Diamondbacks and Marlins have it. Here's how it works: A Miami company called In Stadium Solutions sells the service. It gives the stadium a texting code and sets up a software program. When fans text in, they are supposed to give their section, row and seat number and a brief description of what's wrong. A message comes directly into a supervisor's cell and laptop.

"I can call whoever I need, and the fans get a response right away," Weisberg said. "They don't have to leave their seat or miss any of the game."

He won't say how much the texting service cost the Rays, calling it "extremely affordable" and "invaluable."

• • •

Bottom of the first inning, Carl Crawford at bat: Someone in a fight 310 Row H Seat 1. Weisberg focused his binoculars on that section. "There's no fight," he told his team. "But let's send someone up there anyway, to check it out."

Two minutes later, his radio crackled. Nothing there, said an usher.

Same story for the Issue in section 113, Row P. And for Section 310 Row H someone is punching a guy in an orange and white shirt.

"I see an older gentleman in an orange and white shirt," Weisberg said behind his binoculars. "But he's definitely not getting punched."

Weisberg lowered his binoculars. "Don't they have anything better to do? There's a game going on down there, people. Enjoy the game!"

But the texts kept coming:

Ugly Red Sox player on third base. (Nice noggin, Kevin Youkilis.)

It's freezing up here can we lay off the AC?

Seriously, said the next post. It's like the North Pole.

• • •

We love to complain, to tell on people, right perceived wrongs. Especially when we can hide while we do it.

Boston fan making trouble in 142.

Super annoyingly loud guy behind me section 120 row x seat 4.

But what happens when one person's obnoxious is another person's enthusiastic:

"All we can do is check and see what's going on," Weisberg said. "Let everyone know we're watching." And so are 19,147 other fans, armed with cell phones.

• • •

In the top of the 8th inning, Weisberg got the 21st text. The Rays were up 5-4 but the Red Sox were making a run. People were standing, cheering, pumping their fists.

Unruly fans section 300 row X seats 11-13.

Weisberg called an usher. The usher climbed the stairs behind home plate and spied two guys wearing white Rays visors. One was ringing a small blue cowbell.

The usher approached him: You can't do the cowbells except when there are two outs and two strikes.

"Are you serious?" asked one of the fans. The usher was.

Ryan Mitroka and Bill Pilotte, both 24, had no idea someone had tattled. And they didn't know cowbells came with rules.

They had gotten theirs at a game, as a giveway. "I thought that was the Rays' thing," said Mitroka, who had driven more than an hour from New Port Richey. "You'd think with less people here they'd want you to make more noise."

• • •

After the Rays closed out an 8-5 win, Weisberg closed his laptop.

He had received 25 messages. Mostly jokes. He had sent his ushers all over the stadium chasing false alarms and quelling cowbells.

And he had received at least one complaint he just couldn't do anything about.

Please help. So many Boston fans. Everywhere!

Lane DeGregory can be reached at degregory@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8825. Michael Kruse can be reached at mkruse@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8751.