While I won't miss tired old Ed Smith Stadium, even though it has its charms, there is much that will be missed, starting with my condo on Siesta Key, where the sugary sand of the beach is 20 feet to the right of my Palm Bay Club front door.

And there is Gus's 12th Street Caf?, across the street from home plate, where the omelettes are as big as manhole covers and Diane treats you like a first cousin. And there is The Broken Egg, where Dick Vitale eats every morning and says, "This is my office," as he spends more time on his cell phone than he does chewing eggs.

It is nearly time for the final game, normally just another dreary exhibition against the Pittsburgh Pirates. The beat writers are sitting in the second row of the small, cramped press box.

For 10 years, we sat in the front row - how long it took us to figure out the blinding sun that obliterated our laptop screens couldn't reach us in the second row. And screeching foul balls are more likely to crack craniums in the front row.

A fan from Sarasota showed me his homemade sign, "The $un $ets on $ara$ota Ba$eball." And it is nothing like watching the sun set on Siesta Key with the 80-year-old gentleman playing "Taps" on his coronet. They needed him here Thursday.

Sarasota Mayor Lou Ann Palmer addressed the pregame gathering and was roundly booed and finally said, "I'm glad you are angry because I am angry, too, that the Reds are leaving."

When she presented team owner Bob Castellini a key to the city, a fan yelled, "Why didn't you give them a new stadium?"

Only 2,935 showed up in 7,500-seat Ed Smith for the farewell, but the people working inside the place are the best.

Most of all, it is the people - especially the 50 or so ushers at Ed Smith, the friendliest and most helpful folks one can imagine, always with a kind word and smiley hello.

Same with the yellowshirted security guys and the small five-man grounds crew, called "The World Famous Ed Smith Stadium Grounds Crew" by the public address announcer. They aren't truly worldfamous, but they might be the best in all of springtraining crewdom.

And I'll miss the pounding of puppy paws coming down the stretch at the Sarasota Kennel Club, where I made many appearances to visit my money with Director of Misinformation Leo Bertram McCarthy.

So, it is goodbye old friends. We'll write from Arizona.