Ten Reasons We Should All Just Agree That Tampa Sucks
Tampa: Miami Lite.
Oh no they didn't.
In a cheeky little column this morning, the Tampa Tribune announced that the Cuban sandwich is now Tampa's official sandwich. It went on to claim that the Tampa version of that sandwich is superior to Miami's. Between jabs at the 305's personal injury lawyers and Tony Montana references, writer Jeff Houck makes the case that Tampa's cubano is more Cuban than Miami's because its flavors are inspired by Italian and German immigrants. (What?)
Granted, the attack on us wasn't unprovoked; it came in response to a Miami Herald piece dissing the culinary acumen on Florida's west coast. And normally, far be it from us to defend the Herald. But this isn't the first time Tampa's tried to steal our glory. This isn't about newspapers. This is about Miami. This is war.
So forget the sandwiches, and read on for 10 reasons the 305 kicks the ass of the, um, what's Tampa's area code again? Oh, right, no one cares.
Even if we give Tampa the Cuban sandwich -- and let's be clear; we do not -- there's still plenty of food on Miami's side. We've got James Beard Award nominations coming out our ears, and plenty of winners. We've got celebrity chefs galore. And we've got the South Beach Wine and Food Festival bringing the flavors of the world to our backyard every year. If we're ever on death row and get to request our last meal from any local restaurant, well, let's just pray we're not being charged in Tampa.
Yeah, it's a cliche. But it's an awesome cliche. Next to cruise passengers and reality show contestants, partying is Miami's greatest export. Our clubs and bars are countless. Dozens of new DJs visit us every week to spin for the party-crazed masses. Our open container laws are pretty much a joke. And it all adds up to one legendary scene. When Tampa kids really want to throw down, they come to us. Period.
We can't think of a single A-list celebrity who hasn't visited Miami. Hell, it's hard coming up with names of stars who haven't owned property in this town. Tampa's most famous celebrity resident, as far as we can tell, was Bubba the Love Sponge.
Is Tampa the new Miami when it comes to reality TV casting? In short, no. And it doesn't hold a candle to Miami in terms of the number of TV shows that are set in Miami, or ones that are filmed here. Tampa's just not entertaining, y'all. Don't even.
You just let us know when you start hosting one of the largest and most prestigious art events in the country, mmmkay, Tampa?
Tampa teams may technically be better at sports. But not at entertaining. Anyone in Tampa who thinks he had more fun cheering on the Bucs than we in Miami had making jokes at the Dolphins' expense last year is kidding himself. And now we have Marlins Stadium, with its flashy statue and flashier clubs. As far as we're concerned, the rest of the world is stuck in a rut lined with hot dogs and tradition; in Miami, we have Sports 2.0., and it comes with a pina colada.
Two words: Rick Ross. Don't even argue, or he will find you.
It's not your fault, Tampa, but that doesn't make it any less true: Miami won the geographical lottery. We've got the beautiful, wide-open ocean to the east; the fun, kooky Keys to the south; the serene, if somewhat bland, Fort Lauderdale to the north; and a whole lotta swampland separating us from you. Oh, snap.
We're Sexy and You Know It
Travel & Leisure ranked Miami the third most attractive city in the country last year. Where was Tampa on that list? We don't know; we just skimmed the article during our last mani/pedi. The fact is, we look good, and looks matter. And don't go complaining about how vain and superficial we are -- jealousy is such an ugly quality.
And while we're on the subject of jealousy, let's add Miami's many haters to the list, because they're evidence that we're doing something right. You don't get haters by being ordinary. Millions of people all over the world love Miami, which makes us an easy target for naysayers trying to make themselves look cool. Tampa, on the other hand, doesn't have haters. Well, except for us, we guess. You're welcome.
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