TAMPA, Fla. — If the fans excited to experience the last night of downtown Tampa’s Super Bowl Experience are frustrated at being stuck at full stop on I-275 northbound just before the Ashley Street exit, they’re not going to like what comes next.

It’s 6:30 p.m. on a Saturday evening, and while traffic flow into downtown can be tough when, say, the Lightning are playing, this is the biggest weekend in American sports, and despite the pandemic, everybody wants in on the action. Vehicles crawl downward onto Ashley, where things only get worse; unsure where to go, cars hold up traffic with blinkers on, changing lanes before drivers wonder if maybe they’d been in the right one all along. 

Those dying to get out of the snarl (and those, like me, dumb enough to think they’ve got an ace up their sleeve) duck right onto Doyle Carlton Drive, hoping to grab a streetside space behind the Straz Center for the Performing Arts, or sneak up to the massive parking lot at uber-hip dining destination Armature Works. No dice. The distance between the Straz Center and Armature Works is eight-tenths of a mile; this evening, it takes just over half an hour, and it doesn’t look like there’s any parking to be found.

The extended stop-and-go drive gives people plenty of time to watch thousands of revelers travel the least exciting stretch of the Riverwalk on foot, many in the hometown team’s red and pewter, and many of them without masks. The raised train trestle over the Hillsborough River lights up in the rearview like a DJ’s backdrop. Everything is light and bustle and excitement—outside the car.

It’s a quick shot down East Palm Avenue to Ybor City once one gives up on trying to find parking anywhere near the night’s main attractions. There’s no wait to park in the Palm Avenue garage. Along Eighth Avenue, the most crowded areas seem to be the trolley stops, where folks wait to catch a ride into downtown. A trolley at 15th and Eighth can’t take on all passengers, leaving a few to wait for the next ride, but overall the avenue seems quiet.

Trolleys were full on Saturday night. (Image by Scott Harrell)

Seventh Avenue is a different story. It’s not even 8 p.m., and traffic is only slightly less congested than it was along the Riverwalk. Foot traffic is even busier, and despite the city’s mandate that masks be worn outside in heavily populated neighborhoods—Ybor included, and probably in bold type—a sizable number of the men, women, and children of all ages and races seen on the sidewalks are not wearing them.

Lines begin to form outside the district’s most popular nightspots, further adding to the pedestrian congestion. Clubs like Prana and 1509 are particularly popular; crowds form, with many waiting until they get near the doorman to put on a face covering. It’s easier to stay six feet away from a stranger by ducking into a dive bar like The Reservoir than it is walking down the street. At Habibi Cafe & Hookah Bar, maskless patrons lounge in chairs along 17th Street, whether they’re smoking or not; it’s legal, given that they’re technically seated at a business, but that might not give some traversing the five feet of sidewalk between the tables and the street much comfort.

The line outside Ybor's 1509 the night before the Super Bowl. (Image by Scott Harrell)

A contingent of Christian soul-savers is out in force, using bullhorns and PA systems to spread their word. Almost none of them is wearing a mask. Smoke from a streetcorner blunt wafts 50 feet from a couple of police officers.

An unnamed evangelical on the streets of Ybor. (Image by Scott Harrell)

Tampa’s Parks and Recreation Department has set up a booth where Centro Ybor fronts Seventh Avenue, offering free masks to passersby. A young Tampa Police officer stands with them, reminding those not wearing masks that a mandate is in effect. This is the single most visible evidence of the city’s attempt to enforce the mask mandate in Ybor City; it looks and feels more like a friendly public outreach program than an attempt to contain a public crisis. An enthusiastic volunteer attempts to answer questions from this reporter before a supervisor intervenes, directing all inquiries to an office long closed.

Tampa's mounted police take to the Ybor streets. (Image by Scott Harrell)

By 10 p.m.—when the Super Bowl Experience hoopla along the Riverwalk shuts down—Seventh Avenue looks a lot like it does on any especially jumping Saturday night that wasn’t occurring during a pandemic. The only real difference is the preponderance of Bucs gear. The street and sidewalks are full. The lines of cars trying to get into the parking garages are longer than the ones trying to get out. And despite the mandate, fewer than half the people on the street are wearing masks.

Super Bowl Sunday is big for Tampa. I can’t help wondering, however, if what happens seven to 14 days later might be bigger.