It's fair to say that Marlins Park, the home stadium of MLB's hapless Miami Marlins, has not seen much entertainment in recent years. That changed on Monday when the NFL's glitziest show officially rolled into town.
Super Bowl LIV's Opening Night made amends in some style, filling the venue with media from all across the world, myself included, who for a few short hours morphed into a frenzied collective, firing questions at machine-gun speed -- firstly at the Kansas City Chiefs players, then the San Francisco 49ers.
The assembled media are allowed an hour with each team after a collection of the league's best talent are given rockstar introductions via an elevated runway.
The remaining players are free to roam the room in their all-white custom-made tracksuits -- left to fend for themselves for the most part. It can be intimidating. Most are engaged by some media or other, though the emergence of a brutally visible popularity contest ensues, with some players surrounded by a pack of expectant journalists, while others face slim pickings. A small group of stars make a beeline for the fans, signing balls and posing for selfies. Others huddle in groups, seeking strength in numbers.
Those tackled by the press face an onslaught of questions that are repetitive, occasionally surreal and rarely disarming. Experienced NFL journalists jockey with entertainment reporters, comedians, social media influencers for position in the media scrum. There's always the perennial fancy dress contingent, too.
All of this means that the conversation can move swiftly from the merits of Robert Saleh or Eric Bieniemy to naming the weirdest food they've ever eaten. When the world gets up close and personal with the league stars, the world can't control itself.
As I roam, I see some players having their mind blown by a magician pulling card tricks, another going head-to-head in the board game Gone Fishin', while others are pointing out WWE star Roman Reigns to their pals.
Some players go Primetime, grabbing the mic and asking the media, or other players, questions. I interviewed Chiefs kicker Harrison Butker -- just moments after he'd impressively conducted an interview, mostly about food, in both English and Spanish. He answered my questions about the mental strength required to kick a game-winning field goal with the same grace as he did when talking about tacos minutes earlier.
Amid all the chaos, this is a point that keeps coming up: How remarkably fluent, composed and engaged so many of the players are. Much like a band that has to play the same hits every night on tour, the players field the same questions, often in a row, with fresh sounding answers, despite feeling as though part of them must be dying due to the prodding repetition.
But the questions keep coming: "Will Jimmy Garoppolo be able to win the game for the 49ers if they have to rely on the passing game?
"How do you stop Patrick Mahomes?
"What would it mean for Andy Reid to finally win a Super Bowl?"
All are valid, all fair to ask. But after hearing them again and again, you'd forgive the players for finally cracking, melting down, and screaming at the top of their lungs. But their resolve stays strong: Gracious answer given. Await the next prodding question.
Most players are newer to all this than much of the media, who have covered Opening Night for years, watched it evolve from a low-key daytime affair into a technicolour spectacle. Yet, while some show their wide-eyed wonder at the scale of proceedings more readily than others, a relaxed sense hovers around both camps.
It's an increasingly hard sell for players to convince us that they treat the Super Bowl just like any other game, that the build-up, the hype and the commitments are not distracting. Opening Night is only the beginning of further media opps for the teams this week. The energy and positivity generated by the event is undoubted. But as the scale gets bigger, and the scope for questions becomes more varied, more hysterical, you have to wonder if there's a tipping point, a line that Opening Night will cross. Will it shift it from a light-hearted, well-produced spectacle to something less palatable?
Some suggest it's already crossed that line, that it is a pointless exercise drumming up noise and little else. It may be that both sides have it right -- it's neither essential nor redundant, just a fast, furious and a little bit fun way of kicking off Super Bowl week.